That woman didn’t have her entire family relying on her to make the smart call, to sacrifice in order to provide for them for the next generation.
That woman was silly and foolish and a little vapid.
That woman was in love with a man who didn’t exist.
What a fucking waste.
“Rose?” From the tone of Sasha’s voice, this wasn’t the first time she’d said her sister’s name.
Rose tried for a smile. “Sorry. I was thinking of something else. What did you say?”
“Are you okay?” Sasha sat next to Lorelei. They were three years apart, but they could almost have been twins when they were next to each other. Both were pretty and curvy and totally at ease in their skins. The only real difference was that the sweetness of their expression was genuine on Sasha’s face and a carefully curated mask on Lorelei’s. Their youngest sister preferred people to underestimate her.
Sasha kept going. “I know you liked him, but don’t you think our parents are right? Can you really imagine him here with us? As part of the family?”
No, Rose never could, but that was part of the attraction to Jackson in the first place. He was different than the other people she spent time with. He liked her for her, not because of her proximity to power. Part of her had always known their time was limited, even as their relationship progressed from date nights to her leaving a few things at his place. If Jackson knew what was required of her, what lengths she would descend to, he’d run screaming into the night.
Except that man wasn’t Jackson at all.
She had a feeling Dante Verducci knew exactly what was required of a mafia family heir.
The anger she’d barely kept simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode. Not yet. She couldn’t let it leak out yet. If her sisters knew something was going on, they would insist on going with her. They’d fight, and then Anya would shadow her steps anyway. Even now, Anya watched her with narrowed eyes. She braided her long blond hair back from her face, leaving her sharp features on display. If Anya knew what was going on, she’d insist on tagging along, and Rose had to handle this herself.
Her only option was to lie to them. “I’m just a little sad. That’s all. He was a nice guy.” He was a fucking liar.
Anya rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. She was wearing her customary slacks, button-down, and suspenders. All tailored within an inch of their lives, of course. Her sister might favor menswear, but she made it her own just like she did everything else in her life. Her style really was impeccable. Anya frowned. “You’re acting weird. I’m coming with.”
“No.” She managed to keep the word calm and even. “I’ve handled worse than breaking some poor guy’s heart. I’ve got this.”
Sasha nibbled at her fingernails. “We’ll go out afterward. Get your mind off things.”
She wanted to say no, but honestly what would it hurt? Her life had become so complicated in the past two hours. Letting off a little steam might be exactly what she needed once this was all done. “Sure. I just need to come back here and get ready.”
It took another hour to herd her sisters out of her room and head down to the garage. Vasily was waiting for her. They looked like so many of her parents’ people—like they could punch their way through a wall and the wall would give before they would. They were the Romanovs’ best tech person, and they favored shotguns in combat, which was why Rose didn’t take them along often if she needed to keep things quiet. They also loved sushi and playing checkers, and she and Vasily had shared more than a few meals over games when they were teenagers and involved in the business enough to know what was going on but not old enough to actually participate.
She gave them a long look. “You tattled.”
“All my reports go through Alexei. He passed it on.” They shrugged. “You’re being reckless.”
“That’s my decision to make.”
Vasily shook their head slowly. “You know better.” They refrained from lecturing her, which was just as well.
She did know. She didn’t even have an excuse for this. Rose wasn’t one who railed against her fate. Her parents were indulgent, but they’d also raised her to know exactly what was expected of her, and she thrived beneath those expectations. She looked forward to the day when she ruled the family. She’d even made her peace with her marriage being political instead of a love match.
There was no room in any of that for some civilian guy who would be a liability across the board if their relationship ever got serious. Even if Jackson were a real person, eventually she’d have to choose between telling him the truth or lying to him for the rest of their relationship. He wasn’t equipped to exist within the lifestyle. Either he’d hamstring her, or he’d get himself shot by an enemy because he didn’t take the threat seriously.