The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2), Bethany-Kris [top 50 books to read .txt] 📗

with Leonid and the man’s son. And we’re saying this while ignoring the fact one of those men were plotting against him. Who’s to say they didn’t still want her? What if Maxim was too late to get a handle on his problems? You are the one who has the bride. She was promised to him—why do I have to fucking explain this to you? They’re going to come for your head, and then drag her right back to where she rightfully belongs.”

Roman’s rage was instant.

Hot in his gut.

Like poison.

Demyan lifted a brow when Roman grinded his teeth before muttering, “Karine’s safety is most important, I know.”

“Then, you need to figure out a way to keep her in one piece. This is not the place for it.”

The frustration was building inside him. He knew his father was right, but habit and stupid pride meant he didn’t want to admit it. It was yet one more thing that he didn’t have under control.

Karine needed to be kept safe, and he didn’t know how—so, wasn’t this bigger than him, now?

“Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, son,” Demyan spoke up, reminding his son in an instant how easily he could read Roman. “Especially not when you ask it from someone who understands. Who doesn’t consider feeling something as a weakness. I don’t need to know the whys around what you’ve done to understand what you must do now. Those are different things. And regardless, I’ll get my answers eventually.”

He breathed in deeply, leaning back in the chair and pushed his hands into his pockets, eyeing Demyan from across the table.

“So, does that mean you’re going to help me?” he asked his father.

Demyan shrugged lazily, smirking. “I guess so.”

• • •

“How is she today?”

Roman hid the smile daring to creep across his lips as he slipped into the chair across from his father’s at the table. Four days ago, Demyan encountered Karine for the first time, and already, had developed a soft spot for her. Not that he would want his son to point it out, but the fact he asked about her before even saying hello to Roman said more than he needed to.

Maybe it was her helplessness, and her dependency on the people around her—those she trusted, her innocent aura. He had no idea how her own father could spend even a second degrading her, nevermind keeping her locked away from the world. He could also better understand why Masha was so devoted to her—he swore the woman didn’t know anything but watching over Karine. She was her first thought in the morning, and seemingly the last at night.

Even if Karine didn’t always like it.

“You hungover?” Demyan asked.

He glanced up to meet his son’s eyes, but Roman had them covered with a pair of dark aviators. He chuckled in response, and pulled them off his face.

“Not even close. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was actually drunk. These bloodshot eyes are because I haven’t slept in four nights.”

Demyan grunted as he took a sip of his coffee.

They were seated across from each other in the private dining room of his father’s favorite hotel. Demyan called to ask him to meet for breakfast. For the first time in his life, Roman didn’t give a shit about an early morning meeting. He didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn because he hadn’t even fallen asleep.

“How is this hotel working out for you?” Demyan asked, piercing a sausage with his fork.

Roman heard the underlying question in his father’s words. He wanted to know how Karine was. If there had been any other incidents.

That first night when they moved out of Roman’s apartment and into a hotel across town—well, that had been eventful.

To say the least.

Demyan assigned two Avdonin bulls to watch over them. Karine had encountered one of them in her suite in the middle of the night which led to another altercation. She was quickly going to start developing a reputation amongst the men if she kept attacking the bulls one by one. The last thing they needed was that.

“We’re fine there. I’m keeping a close eye on her.”

And that was one of the most significant reasons why Roman hadn’t slept in several nights. Not since they left Chicago. He wasn’t sure when he would sleep again.

“I’m looking into a safehouse,” Demyan continued, lifting his coffee for another sip.

It reminded Roman to do the same with the cup that had already been poured and waiting for him at the table. A strong cup of black coffee ... or two—would hopefully do the trick of keeping him up.

If he was lucky.

Ever since he returned to New York with a car stuffed full of problems, Roman had increasingly felt the urge to indulge in his favorite vice. Cocaine. An easy way to stay up, he made a conscious effort to ignore the fact he knew it would help him get through the current shit storm.

He also couldn’t afford to fuck things up. This was a matter of life and death, for Karine and himself. He needed clarity. His mind had to be sharp, and while coke certainly made him believe he was on top of a mountain, unbeatable, that didn’t mean he actually was. At least, sobriety taught him that.

“What’s happening in Chicago?” Roman asked, taking the conversation where he really wanted it to be. “Do we still have time to make other shit happen, or what?”

Demyan didn’t look away from his plate, careful in his reply when he said, “I’m in talks with people. Things are moving, but it’ll take time as these things usually do. I’m going to figure it out.”

He didn’t add—for Karine’s sake—but Roman knew there was a part of his father that meant just that. Through his limited interaction with her, he had started to see that his son was right. She needed professional help as much as she needed people to keep her safe.

It was a lot.

“For now, worry about not letting