Page 140 of Axel

“Yes, and she was my wife,” Roman answers. “We were young, and I thought we were in love, but she used me to get close to the Pakhan. She started flirting with him and making other plans. I was his bastard son, and he wanted a true heir. His only heir. And Katerina was very eager to provide one.”

“So he didn’t force Katerina—” Nadine pauses. “I mean,Katyato leave you and seduce Axel? My son? She wanted to do it?”

“How did he know I was here?” Axel seethes.

“I don’t know.” Roman holds his hands up. “Honestly, I don’t. One night, Kat was with me; the next day, she was gone. And all I got were orders from our father to neverspeak about her again, or he’d kill my mother. My grandmother, too.”

“Then how did you find me?” Fury twists Axel’s handsome face, and I can imagine everything he’s questioning.

Every moment spent with Katya. Every day since she left him, pregnant, with his son. Every year he’s missed so far.

“When she came home a year later,” Roman answers, “she wouldn’t speak to me. It was obvious she was pregnant, and all she wanted was power. Was to be Ruslan’s queen, the mother to his heir, and I was dead to her. But one night…”

He trails off, and suddenly, I have sympathy for him, too. When he’s not bound and highly aroused, Roman is a beautiful man. Black wavy hair. Brown eyes with thick lashes. He has Axel’s perfect nose. Straight and proportioned over full lips with a defined bow. Like him, he’s covered in ink and pain.

Roman’s not Axel’s enemy. They have too much in common.

Including betrayal.

I swear, if I ever meet Katya, I’ll cut the bitch. I’ll do it country style in the kidney with an Arkansas toothpick.

“But what?” Nadine encourages him. “What happened?”

“But one night, I went looking for answers,” Roman says. “I broke into their sleeping quarters, and saw Lev sleeping in his crib and?—”

I glance at Axel.

Anguish pours down his stunning face.

“By his crib,” Roman continues, “by the lamp and baby stuff, there was a green rose made of twisted, dried grass in a vase. It wasn’t Russian, and it didn’t belong. It was my only clue.”

“A Palmetto Rose,” Axel fumes. “It’s what I gave Katya on our first date, and she kept it.”

“So…” My heart starts racing, oddly afraid. “So Katya stilllovesAxel and kept his rose and?—”

“No.” Roman sharpens his eyes. “That woman only loves herself. She’s driven by ego, power, and money. But I guess somewhere in her cold heart, she knows who the father of her son is. She keeps one piece of him alive, the Palmetto Rose, and it took me a year to figure out what it was and where it came from.”

“So you came to Charleston,” Nadine presses. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No,” he answers. “I was on a mission.Mymission.”

“To do what?” Axel won’t drop his gun.

“Kill you.” Roman shrugs. “Join you. Get revenge. I wasn’t sure. I wanted to find you first.”

“How’d you do it?” The investigator in me demands to know, “How, out of hundreds of thousands, did you find Axel?”

“I didn’t.” Roman meets my eyes. “I’ve been here a while and finally found Pastor Sire Rutledge. He was on the news, doing a humanitarian relief drive for his church, and I went.”

“Fuck,” Axel mutters. “I told him to stay off camera.”

“Yeah,” Roman agrees. “He looks like Ruslan. All of you do. Or maybe, because I have a mirror, I know what to look for.”

“So you followed Sire,” I push, “and then what?”

“Then, one day a few weeks later, Sire Rutledge walked down Meeting Street and met a man who looked even more like my father before they entered The Mercier Hotel.”

Axel shakes his head.

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