Page 135 of Between Us

“And you're the embodiment of integrity, I'm sure.”

“No, and I never pretended to be something I am not. All these years, Vitaly knew exactly where he stood with me.”

“Until he didn't.”

A dark chuckle resounded from Davit's chest. “You don't know even half the truth of what your father did.”

Roman's gaze slid from the little boy hanging limply in his father's arms to the face he wanted to punch the most in the world. “And you do?”

“I do. If he ever wakes up, and you get to have a conversation with him, just ask him about the real reason he decided to make a pact with Nero Rossetti. His answer might surprise you.”

Roman tried to hide his surprise behind a blank mask. His mind processed the words being thrown at him like daggers and he didn't like where his thoughts were going.

Davit decided to spill more venom. “Your wife being kidnapped by his own men; he knew about it before you did.”

“What is he talking about?” Matteo demanded, his head turning to look at Roman.

Davit went on, his poisonous gaze filled with the thirst for revenge. “He even sanctioned it, to some degree, after he found out she'd been taken. They planned to kill her, andItold Vitaly about it. You don't think anyone could come into my territory without me knowing about it, do you?” He chuckled, and it sounded evil. “He contacted Boris after we spoke on the phone. You know what they agreed on? The men could rapeher, but she had to be left alive.”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Matteo boomed, his jaw clenched as he took a few menacing steps in Roman’s direction.

Roman felt his stomach clench with anger and the acute feeling of betrayal. It made him physically sick that his own father had stabbed him in the back like that.

“Oh, he doesn't know, does he?” Davit mocked, finally acknowledging that Matteo had spoken. “Your sister was kidnapped and almost raped by Bratva men just a few months ago. But I'll let Roman fill you in on the details.”

“You fucking excuse of a human being,” Roman growled, his hand trembling on the gun he was clutching like a life raft.

Davit’s gaze grew murderous, any trance of taunting gone from his voice. “You are both just little boys still playing with their dicks in the sand. You will never understand the sacrifice and willpower it takes to be the strongest man in a pack of rabid dogs. Your fathers have more sins than the devil himself. But they have lead their organizations for decades because they were willing to do whatever it took to always land on their feet. A strong leader knows that once you are down on your knees, those rabid dogs will go straight for the jugular.”

Each breath felt like sandpaper on Roman's lungs. He was so furious he could barely see straight.

But then something caught his eye and it cleared the mist obstructing his sense of reason. There was movement outside the window where Dimitri was getting into position to be used as a distraction.Roman's finger tightened on the trigger. Five long seconds passed like an eternity.

His questions would probably remain unanswered, but there was no time to loose.

Not to say that he cared for Davit's version of the truth, but the bastard had managed to plant the seed of doubt right before going down in the flames of Hell. Maybe it was exactly what he wanted, after all.

The sound of bullets hitting the ballistic glass set everything into motion. Instinctively, Davit's head turned toward the windows, and Roman didn't hesitate to raise his hand and point the gun at him. There was no time to hesitate, so he took aim and fired, the heavy sound rippling through the quiet office.

A second after the bullet hit its target, Davit’s bulky frame dropped to the floor like a heavyweight, taking his son with him. The child screamed, terrified by the blast and the sudden drop in gravity.

Roman lowered his hand and stepped closer, taking in the blood spilling over the hardwood floor. It was a clean shot, straight through the man’s temple. Davit's eyes were wide open, the shock of the hit still reflected in them as he took his last breath.

Another moment passed before Roman reached down and grabbed the little boy, who quieted as soon as he was lifted from the floor, although hot tears ran down his pale cheeks in rivulets.

Roman steadied him on his feet and lowered himself to his haunches in front of him. “I'm sorry about your dad.”

The boy wiped his tears with the sleeve of his yellow sweater and glanced down at his father lying dead on the floor. Something in his young eyes shifted, andRoman couldn't tell if he was upset or relieved to be rid of the man.

“Roman,” Stepan called from the doorway. “We should get out of here.”

Roman straightened to his full height, his eyes still on the boy. “Go to your room and don't come out until the police arrive.”

The kid hesitated, and Roman had to wonder if he even understood English. But then he turned around and darted out of the room like he was being chased by a demon. The police would question him, though nothing he could say mattered. Both Roman and Nero Rossetti were using their influence with the Chicago PD to make the whole thing go away quietly.

Matteo came to stand beside Roman. “You owe me a goddamn explanation.”

“There's not much else to say. She didn't get hurt, and the men involved are all dead.”

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