Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) by Nicole Fox (classic fiction TXT) 📗

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I say. After the laughs we’ve shared this morning, I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to make things awkward after everything we’ve been through. He’s just starting to open up and not look at me like I’m the biggest mistake he’s ever made. Pushing him further than he’s willing to go would jeopardize all the steps forward we’ve taken.

“I’d rather not,” he says.

“Okay,” I nod. “We’ll talk about something else.”

I rack my brain for a new topic, something that doesn’t make the air in the room feel so stuffy and suffocating. I consider bringing up shows I’ve been watching, but I don’t think Roman will be able to relate to that. If our night in the motel was any clue, it seems he only watches the news, and that’s just to check and see if his murders were noticed by the police. But maybe that’s it. Maybe business is the language he prefers to speak.

“We should talk about how you’re going to let me be a part of this now,” I say, bringing my plate to the table and sitting down across from him. Roman picks at his food, eyeing me suspiciously.

“That’s what I’m doing?”

“That’s what you’re doing,” I say. I take a bite from my bacon and chew, staring him down. I dare him to tell me that he’s not going to help me now. “I shot someone, and we left him to die. I’m in this now. I heard what they said. They knew that I was with you. They knew what I looked like. Had you never taken me to the motel, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Roman shakes his head. “Had you never gone down that alley, you would’ve never seen me complete an assignment.”

“Had you not been killing people for money, I wouldn’t have seen anything walking down that alley,” I retort, raising an eyebrow at him. I have people on my ass now because of what his job is. Those people weren’t there to kill me; they were there for him. I just happened to be with him, and now I’m caught up in the same chaos.

“Roman, you got me into this mess. No matter how we try to spin it or make it like it was my fault, I’m not the hit man. I’m not the one that goes around killing people. That’s you. And I almost died yesterday, so I think the least you can do is let me help you take out Konstantin. That’s all I’m asking. We can pretend we don’t know each other when it’s all said and done, but at the end of the day, I want to help.”

Roman eats silently, mulling things over in his mind. What I wouldn’t give for just a moment inside it, picking apart his thoughts and seeing him weigh all the options. Does he consider me a liability? Maybe I’m not fully recovered from what happened yesterday, but the fact still remains that I didn’t need him to come and save me. I took care of that masked man on my own, without any help. He may have put the gun in my hand, but I pulled the trigger. And if the next time I do it, as long as I’m aiming at Abram Konstantin, I think this mess will all have been worth it.

“Fine,” he says, glaring at me. “You can help me. But that doesn’t mean we’re partners. When I tell you something, you listen to me. When I tell you something is too dangerous, or that you need to stay out of the way, you listen to me. Okay?”

I don’t necessarily like the terms of this agreement, but I’m really in no position to renegotiate. He’s the one with the power. He’s the one that gets to decide what we do now that whoever wants him dead also probably wants me out of the picture too.

“That’s fair,” I say. “But I also want you to listen to me sometimes. I’m not some annoying sidekick. I know things about Konstantin that even Mr. X wouldn’t be able to figure out. I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. This means so much to me, and—”

Roman cuts me off. “I know. I know what it means.”

Of course he knows. He went through this same thing with his family. He went through the pain of losing them and the all-encompassing rage of knowing that the people that did it got away with no consequences. Not even so much as a scratch on them. He knows the sleepless nights, the bone-rattling anger, and the bottomless despair. If anyone in the world would understand what I’m going through, it’s Roman.

That must be why he’s letting me work with him. Maybe he pities me because of what happened to Mom and Dad. He figures he’s kicking me a bone, giving me something to do that will make me feel like I’m contributing. Even if he is, I don’t care. It’s something. It’s something better than crying every other night, feeling helpless to the evil in the world.

I have agency. Finally, I have some say in what’s happening to me and around me. I’m not a damsel in distress, sitting helplessly while the evil men of the world get away with anything they please. It took a lot to get here—if I’m being honest, I’ll probably need therapy after this—but it’s been worth it. Knowing that soon, Konstantin will pay? It’s worth every last moment since I’ve met Roman.

“Enough murder talk,” he says, giving me a look. I don’t want to argue with him. “Finish eating your food. I slaved over the stove for this.”

Following instructions, I scoop up a forkful of eggs, peppers, and onions and take a big bite. After I swallow, I smile at him. “You know, if you ever get tired of shooting and strangling people, you might have a successful