“Are you going for your run now?” Roza asked, breaking the very pregnant silence.
“In a few minutes. Would you mind if I spoke with my guest in private?”
“Of course not. She’s cute, by the way, a very nice girl. You’ve got good taste.”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “How many times do I need to tell you that my personal life is out of bounds?”
“Oh, I think a few more will do the trick, I’m sure.” She winked at me, waved, and walked off.
I felt numb, dizzy. I wanted more coffee, but all the caffeine in the world couldn’t prepare me for seeing Roman shirtless in only a pair of what were apparently running shorts.
He sat down and leaned on his elbows.
“Did you sleep okay? I hope the clothes are fine. Roza doesn’t have much lying around this house.”
“They’re perfect, thanks.”
“Good.” He let out a breath. “Last night didn’t go as I planned. I didn’t think… well, here you are.”
“Here I am. And where exactly is here, by the way?”
“Halfway down Avalon, right by the beach. You can ride your bike back without any issues. It’s a nice morning.”
“Right, of course.” I frowned toward where Roza had disappeared. “Your personal assistant is, uh, really nice.”
He followed my gaze and smiled, just the barest hint. “You mean she’s a little too forward? I keep meaning to fire her, but I can’t quite get around to it.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m joking. Roza and I go back a long way. She’s friendly, but don’t let it fool you. She’s a jaguar in a business suit.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Is there anyone in this house who isn’t some kind of super killer or whatever?”
“No,” he said, not smiling along.
My laughter died on my lips. “Right. Okay. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“How much danger am I in right now? I mean, I think I understand that I witnessed a very important murder last night, so I’m guessing things aren’t great for me at the moment.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Should I be afraid? Maybe I can go into witness protection.”
“I don’t think that’s an option.”
“Are you sure? I’ll change my name. Heck, I’ll let you choose it. Anything you want.”
Another smile. I liked it when he smiled—he looked like he didn’t do it often, but it softened his severe features.
A little bit, anyway.
“You wouldn’t want me to name you. I’d choose something terrible.”
“I’m sure you have great taste.”
“Doris Periwinkle.”
“Oh, never mind.” I made a face. “You think I look like a Doris?”
“I think witness protection isn’t a real option.”
“So what do you recommend?”
He hesitated, then stood and grabbed my mug. I didn’t say anything as he poured me a refill and got himself his own. He added a little milk and returned to the table.
“I recommend you go home and forget all of this happened. I will make sure you’re protected from my end.”
“Why?” I tilted my head, trying to understand. I lifted the mug to my lips and felt the hot coffee against my tongue.
I didn’t understand why a man like him would care about me at all.
I was nobody. I was nothing.
I’d run away from any claim to being somebody a long time ago.
The only thing I wanted was to stay hidden.
Quiet and calm and cozy. That was all I asked out of life.
Until last night, I’d been doing great.
Now this man, unrepentant and powerful, waltzed into my existence and tore it all to confetti.
“I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, Cassie. I’ve seen a lot of injustice and violence. I’ve committed acts of brutality that I don’t regret, but don’t particularly care to relive. But I still believe in justice and fairness, and I don’t think it’s either just or fair that you’d pay the price for what you saw last night. You weren’t the one that made the mistake.”
“So you’re just some kind of super-rich mobster guy—sorry, oligarch or whatever—and you believe in doing the right thing? Am I getting this?”
“Not the right thing. I believe in doing what I feel is just. That’s the difference.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
He ran his finger around the rim of his mug, and I pictured how that’d feel around my breast. My nipples were hard, and I was thankful for the thick sweatshirt. Otherwise, he’d definitely notice my arousal.
“Doing the right thing, in this case, would mean calling the police. It would mean justice for Dia. But I don’t want justice for Dia. I only want you to survive and Manzi to make the girl’s death right.”
“You really do whatever you want, don’t you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Not always. Roza talks too much.”
“Maybe you should listen to her.” I felt a sudden pang of anger. I didn’t know why I let this man drag me around when I didn’t owe him anything and didn’t know him from anyone else in this world. He was just some rich criminal, and even if he did run a bunch of powerful families from the shadows, what the hell did I care about that?