Page 39 of Between Us

“Let's talk in the back.”

Throwing one last glance toward the girls, Roman followed after the other man. They entered a small storage room that doubled as an office, for some privacy.

“I had a break-in two nights ago. They stole all the cash in the register. It wasn't much, just a couple thousand, but they also smashed two large windows up front. Those were a bitch to replace.”

Roman frowned. “Why am I only hearing about it now?”

“To be honest, I was too wrapped up in trying to clean up the mess they left behind. I was going to give you a call tomorrow.”

“You have cameras at the entrance.”

Misha shook his head with a bitter expression on his face. “They broke those too. I got nothing—no idea who could have done it.”

Roman wanted to curse, though he managed to refrain from showing his agitation. Two different attacks in two successive nights, both targeting the Bratva. The Armenians were getting bold.

“I'll handle it,” he assured Misha, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder.

With that promise, he exited the storage room and made his way to the back of the pub where the girls were still oblivious to his presence. He clenched andunclenched his fist to release some tension, but to no avail. He was now more riled up than earlier when he'd found the house empty.

Tatyana noticed him first. “And the big bad wolf is finally here,” she said over the rim of her glass.

Roman looked down at Alessandra who had an empty cocktail glass in front of her. Her cheeks were tinted pink and her brown eyes were glassy from the alcohol. “How many did you have?”

She sawed her bottom lip, having the decency to look a little guilty. “Three.”

He had half a mind to walk back and punch Misha in the face for serving her alcohol in the first place, but knew his sister had had a hand in it. He gave her a hard look. “Next time you want to get my wife drunk, you ask for my permission.”

Tatyana didn't look impressed with the pissed-off expression on his face. “So controlling,brat. Since when?”

“Since she’s not old enough.”

Tatyana scoffed. “She didn't havethatmuch to drink. Let the girl have some fun.”

Alessandra grabbed his hand, surprising him with the contact of her warm skin against his. “I'm fine. At home, I used to drink wine with dinner sometimes.”

“Let's go,” he said, stopping the argument there and motioning to his sister. “Come on, I'll drop you off.”

Tatyana muttered something under her breath, but got up nonetheless. Alessandra did the same, and he noticed for the first time what his wife was wearing: a strappy top and skinny jeans that clung to her legs and ass like a second skin. Her red heels were almost the same color as the shade of lipstick on her lips. Hestared at her mouth and fought the sudden urge to grab a fistful of her long hair and drag her in for a bruising kiss.

Alessandra leaned into him, her beautiful, round-shaped eyes mirroring his desire. Not one to deny either of them, Roman put his hand on the small of her back and bent his head to brush his lips over hers gently. Anything more intense had to wait until he got her home.

As he escorted the girls out of the crowded pub with Alessandra's fingers still curled around his own, he saw Misha's eyes dart toward their joined hands. A small crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows before he caught himself and quickly averted his gaze. Apparently, news of his marriage to the Don’s daughter had spread like wildfire inside their community. His earlier conversation with Stepan came to mind, but there wasn’t much he could do about it for now. As long as people kept their opinions to themselves, neither Roman nor Vitaly could accuse them of being disloyal to the Bratva.

Tatyana lived only two blocks away from Sunshine, but Roman made sure to drop her off in front of her apartment building and wait until she was inside before heading home.

“Are you mad that I went out?” Alessandra asked when they were finally alone in the car.

He spared her a quick glance and saw that she was twirling a strand of hair around her index finger—one of her nervous habits, he was starting to learn.

“No. Although I would appreciate a heads-up next time I come home at night and you're not there.”

“I didn't mean to worry you.”

Roman nodded, his attention focused on the road ahead. “Ivan drove you?” When she didn't answer immediately, he briefly met her eyes and irritation washed over him at what he saw in them. “I thought I was being clear when I told you I didn't want you in a car with a stranger.”

“It's only a ten-minute drive. I took an Uber.”

“Alessandra,” he warned, voice getting tight with restrained anger. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it. Do you understand?”

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