Page 94 of Lethal Alliance

“Would you prefer us to use a different name?” Darya’s smile is understanding. “I know how... hard it can be, living two lives.”

“I know you do.” Rosa presses her hand, then releases it and turns back to me. “I know you both do. Rosa is fine. It’s probably best that you don’t know the name I’m using now.”

I give a rather hard laugh. “I take it this is just a fleeting visit, then. Not planning to stick around?”

Darya frowns at me. “Roman—”

“It’s fine.” Rosa interrupts her. She folds her hands in her lap and watches me across the limo. “You have every right to be angry, Roman.”

“Good to know.” My fingers itch for the Scotch bottle, but today alcohol is not an option. I meet her eyes briefly, but my own slide away. Even that fleeting glimpse is enough to jolt me to the core.

For so long, I’ve seen her eyes only in my dreams.

It’s been years since I allowed myself the luxury of actually remembering them.

Those memories are too painful.

Liquid brown eyes, laughing into my own as she held my hands and danced with me.

Eyes soft with love as she read me to sleep.

Memories like that undo a man. Break the walls I needed to build in order to survive.

And today, of all days, isn’t the time to take that fortress down.

My anger makes no sense, after so many years of longing to see my mother again. But it’s there, as uncontrollable as it is savage. I’m not proud of it, but nor am I capable of processing it.

Not today.

“Look, Rosa.”

She flinches when I use her first name, but it’s the best I can do. I force myself to meet her eyes, taming the sudden rush of adrenaline with the discipline of long practice. “This isn’t the day for a family reunion.” I take a card from my shirt pocket and hold it out to her. “This is my number. Feel free to call it the next time you’re in Spain.” I knock on the window, and Dimitry lowers it. “Tell Bryce to pull in at the next truck stop. Our passenger won’t be traveling with us.”

He wisely doesn’t argue, just nods and raises the window again.

“Roman!” Darya is glaring at me. “We can make time—”

“No.” Rosa cuts her off in a subdued tone. “After what has happened, our conversation can wait.”

My inner tension ratchets up even further. The limo turns into a service road, but I’m no longer paying attention. “What do you mean, ‘after what has happened’?” I fix on my mother’s face, any hesitation I previously felt about looking at her dropping away. “What do you know?”

“I know that Vilnus Orlov has kidnapped your goddaughters.” She meets my eyes steadily. “That he’s holding them in Miami.”

“And how, exactly, do you know this, Rosa? Who are you talking to?” I clasp my hands between my knees, pinning her to the seat with my eyes. “Or should I say—who is talking to you?”

Darya is very still. Her smile has faded, and her eyes on Rosa are narrow and wary. It hurts me to see her like this, and that does nothing to alleviate the churning anger inside me, anger I neither understand nor, at the present moment, have any wish to examine.

“Sergei sent me a message. But I knew before that. Alexei, he—”

“Alexei is talking to you. Of course he is.” Darya’s voice is hard. Her eyes shift to mine as the limo glides to a halt. “I agree with your son, Rosa. I think this is a good place for us to part ways.”

“Not a chance,” I interrupt her. “Not if she’s talking to Alexei.”

Darya frowns, but she doesn’t argue with me.

“I’m sorry, Rosa, but for now, I’d prefer it if you remained under my protection. Darya is flying back to Spain today. You will travel with her.”

Rosa stares between us both, her bewilderment apparent. “That isn’t wise, Roman. Darya will need to be in Zurich anyway, when—”

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