Page 22 of Brutal Loyalty

In his head, Roman imagined Elena as his prisoner and wondered what she thought of roleplay before he tried to squash the image of her naked and tied to his bed.

He startled when Viktor clapped him on the back again before his hand dropped. “Relax, Roman. We are doing everything we can to keep everyone safe and find Popov. If you feel we aren’t doing enough, then come up with a plan for me to approve, and we’ll get moving on it. But that’s not really your primary concern, is it?” Viktor smirked at him. “I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. If you want to go for her, then go for her! You’re my best friend, and she’s Alexandra’s best friend. You have my approval.”

Roman forced down a dry swallow. Was that what he wanted? Just last night, he’d been so quick to assume that Elena had lied to him. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not know about her mother until he’d seen the pure shock on her face. Nothing else could have convinced him that Popov really had kept his daughter in the dark about her mother’s fate. He still didn’t understand why the man had done it. It took a special kind of bastard to separate a mother from her children. Maybe heshouldtell Viktor about the discovery last night? It might give him a little more insight into who they were dealing with.

No, Roman finally decided. The business with her mother was private, something she had to work out on her own. Viktor didn’t need to know. Not yet.

“Thank you.” It was all Roman could think to say. He forced his smile a little wider, which seemed to placate Viktor.

Meanwhile, Roman put a stop to any thoughts of a relationship with Elena. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, despite her bratty side, but she deserved someone who would devote themselves to her and not someone who would be so quick to doubt her—someone whose loyalty would always be divided.

CHAPTER17

Elena

Lunch, shopping, swimming, dinner—Elena found herself genuinely enjoying time with Alexandra and even Viktor now that she’d made up her mind not to kill him. No longer was she tethered to her father’s expectations, and no longer would she carry through with the assassination. The burden of guilt had been lifted, but now that Elena was alone at the conclusion of a full day, she found her heart was still heavy.

All that day, she’d managed to lose herself in busyness, in chatting, and in being free to enjoy her friendship without worrying about how much she was going to hurt Alexandra. At the same time, she’d been hiding from the question of what to do now, and even how to feel. Her mother was alive! She had no idea how to handle that, or even what she felt.

After Viktor and Alexandra went to bed, Elena sat in her room staring at the ornate wallpaper, unable to think of anything except her mother. It had been almost nine years since they had seen each other. Did her mom know about her life? That she’d gone to university and that she hadn’t finished because her father had decided she was wasting her time? What was her mother’s life like? Was she happy? How bad was her MS? Did she miss Elena and Maya?

She needed to go see her mother, and as soon as possible—the more she thought about it, the more she decided that time was critical. Once her father figured out that Elena wasn’t going to kill Viktor, she didn’t know what would happen. She was staying at the Sokolov mansion only because Alexa had begged Viktor to let her seek asylum there after Elena claimed to be in danger. Now that she reallywasin danger, what would happen? If men loyal to the Svodnik descended upon the house, would Viktor see her as a threat and move her elsewhere?

Somewhere far away from her mother…and far away from Roman?

She had spent so much energy fretting over her mother that Elena realized, in this moment, she also had her father to worry about. He had not only killed one friend to frame another in an attempt to solidify his arms trade takeover, but he had gone to great lengths to hide her mother. Would Elena’s betrayal endanger her mother too? What would her father do once he found out his daughter was disloyal?

All Elena could do was force down a lump in her throat and take a breath. The silence of the house and the emptiness of the room was daunting; suddenly, she felt incredibly alone and vulnerable.

Roman’s words replayed in her head:I promise you that, no matter what you decide to do about your mom, I’ll be there to help you.

“Chaufferone,” Elena whispered into the empty room as her vision blurred with tears, “I hope you really can help me.”

She rose from the bed and pulled her robe on over her nightgown, then padded down the quiet hall to Roman’s room. After her tiny, hesitant knock, the door opened.

Roman took one look at her and pulled her into his arms for a tight, reassuring hug. The door closed behind him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Roman asked as he led her over to sit on his bed.

“I just…” Elena’s mouth went dry and she couldn’t find the right words.

“Your mother?” he asked gently.

Elena nodded. Paused. Shook her head instead. “My father. I just…I don’t feel safe. If he could do that to his own wife, what will he do to me?” She snuggled up against Roman and rested her head on his shoulder.

Roman shifted his position and moved to lean back against the headboard. He scooped Elena up as if she weighed nothing, settled her sideways on his lap, and wrapped his arm around her, pressing her head against the side of his chest. He took a long, slow inhale. Elena was surrounded by his warmth, and it was incredibly reassuring. More so than she deserved.

“You’re in the house of the pakhan, who is well-respected here in Boston and elsewhere. There are security cameras, guards, guns, and every manner of protection possible,” he answered. Elena squeezed his arm harder, and he hugged her more tightly.

“I don’t know the guards, I don’t know anything about guns…willyoukeep me safe?” she asked quietly as she looked up at him.

Roman looked down at her then, and Elena didn’t just see the determination in his eyes—she felt it.

“Yes. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,” he told her.

She buried her face against him. His body was warm, and he was wearing those same sweats again with a soft, worn T-shirt. Tonight, he smelled like spiced soap—and his presence soothed her like nothing else.

It was hard to believe this was the same man she’d wanted to push out of the airplane only a few days ago.

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