“Does he know you’re doing this?” I took the pen and hesitated.”
“Oh, god no, not at all. He’d probably drown me in the bath if he found out, but I’ve been protecting Roman for a long time now, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. So please, write your name on the damn line and stop asking so many questions.”
I stared at her and my heart skipped a beat. She looked back at me with a sharp, hard edge. Her happy attitude was gone, replaced by a knife-sharp gaze and the threat of something bad beneath her otherwise pristine exterior.
I liked her a lot, but man, she was scary.
I signed my name.
“Great, now one more.” She slipped the paper up a bit and showed off another several signature lines. Roman’s name was scrawled in a tight script next to Roza’s own loopy signature on top of the line marked witness.
I frowned at her and hesitated, my pen lingering above the line for my name. “What’s this one?” I couldn’t see anything above the signatures.
“Sign the paper, Cassie.” Roza’s voice was dead and dagger sharp.
My heart skipped a beat. God, she was scary when she wanted to be. I didn’t have much of a choice in this situation—I needed Roman’s protection, and if signing some kind of NDA or contract or whatever this was would keep me alive for a little bit longer, I had to play along.
Write my name or end up dead.
Not such a hard choice, really.
I could still hear the gunshot that ripped the night to pieces. Dia’s body slumped on the ground, her pretty hair splayed out around the crown of blood that leaked through the wooden slats.
I signed.
“Fantastic!” Roza perked up as she flipped the folder shut and took the pen back. “Glad that’s out of the way. God, I hate business. So okay, let’s get going, he’s waiting for you.”
“He’s what?”
Roza got to her feet. “Don’t mention the NDA, it’ll only piss him off.” She walked back toward the elevator. “And seriously, just get in the pool. He’ll like that.”
“Pool?” I got up and followed her. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see.” Roza grinned at me, pressed the elevator call button, and stepped back as the doors opened. “This place is absolutely massive. Like completely bonkers. You’ll probably never see it all, but maybe one day. Anyway, let’s get going.”
She stepped into the elevator.
I hesitated. “Where are you taking me?”
“Down.” She patted the wall. “Get in, kukolka.” She grinned at me.
My cheeks were definitely a five as I stepped inside, turned to face the door, and stood there awkwardly and silently as we descended further into Roman’s bunker of nightmares, or pleasure, or both, I wasn’t really sure yet.
11
Cassie
The elevator door opened and the humid smell of chlorine wafted down a short tiled hallway that ended with a single double door.
“He’s right in there.” Roza didn’t make a move.
“You’re not coming?”
“Nope, I got more work to do.”
I hesitated and looked down the hallway. I thought of what she said upstairs—just get in the pool—and felt a little chill in my fingertips.
“I’m not sure I want to see him right now.”
“Though luck, kiddo. The boss wants to talk, so it’s time to go talk. Don’t worry, he’s in a good mood. Swimming always makes him happy.”
“Of course there’s a pool in this underground nightmare.”
“I told you, there’s way more to this place than you realize. Now get in there.” She gave me a gentle nudge.
I stepped off the elevator and sucked in a deep breath. The taste of the pool in the air reminded me of swimming at the YMCA when I was a little girl. My father took me for lessons, and I used to spend hours kicking around on a blue floating paddle board, laughing as Dad backstroked alongside me, grinning that whole time. Afterward, he’d take me into the director’s office and I’d take a piece of candy from a bowl on the man’s desk.
In retrospect, that poor man likely owed my father money or worse.
I didn’t have a lot of good memories of him, but despite the criminal undertones, that was one of the best.
“Are you sure I should—“
But before I could finish, the elevator doors slid shut, and I was alone.
“Damn,” I finished softly to myself then walked down the hall and pushed open the doors.
The pool room was exquisite. The walls were painted in an underwater lake motif with floating plant life and shockingly detailed fish. Even the ceiling was painted to look as though it were the top of the water, looking up from the bottom. The pool itself was Olympic sized with multiple lanes, though only one was in use.
Roman swan a leisurely freestyle with measured, precise strokes.
I drifted into the room, pacing down along the pool. Bunches lined the walls, old and wooden, like antiques. I barely saw them though.