She had asked.
At least he was honest.
Karine tried to find an appropriate response, but the words were lost to her murky mind as Roman pulled the vehicle off the road, and into the underground parking lot of a tall apartment building with windows that looked like panes of chrome, and high, black brick walls. A thrill ran down her spine at the sight.
She didn’t know much about New York, but at the very least—well, the movies had been right.
It was glamorous.
• • •
The lobby of the building had clearly been designed with the outside in mind. Chrome accents twinkled in the tile under their feet while black brick made up the walls, and even the face of the reception desk that they passed in a hurry. Roman walked like he was, anyway. It took two of Karine’s steps to keep up with his one.
Masha trailed far behind them, still as quiet as ever. All the years that she’d served the Yazov household taught her how to make herself invisible, and blend into the background when not required.
Karine stared up in awe of the rows of hanging chandeliers made from twisted chrome along the high ceilings of the lobby. She barely even cared that their bright lights made it hard to see what was ahead of her when she looked away.
Roman definitely had good taste.
And money.
The man and woman at the reception desk greeted them with smiles as they passed—Roman didn’t offer a reply as he headed straight for the elevator. Karine, at least, returned their smiles with her own, but couldn’t say it felt very true.
He carried one bag in his loose grip—hers. It was the only one he’d been able to pack in a hurry. Only what you’ll need for a couple days, I can replace everything else, he had told her earlier as they drove into the state. She’d already noticed how he had no bags of his own. Did he really have no belongings in Chicago—nothing that he held dear enough to bring back with him?
They stood at the elevator doors until they spread apart with a loud ding. It was clear by the size and available space that it wasn’t made for more than a couple people at a time.
“Which floor, Mr. Avdonin? I’ll take the next one,” Masha said, making her voice heard before they entered.
“Fiftieth,” Roman replied without a glance over his shoulder. “It’ll open right to it.”
Just as fast, he placed a hand to Karine’s lower back and urged her inside with the pressure of his palm. The doors slid shut behind them, and she caught sight of a quiet Masha before they closed. Alone with him in the confines of the elevator, she clutched her stomach, the wave of claustrophobia starting the second the floor seemed to jump under her feet.
Maybe then would have been a good time to point out to him how she didn’t enjoy closed spaces. Her anxiety went through the roof, forcing her to ramble or babble nonsense for nothing more than the distraction it provided.
She said the first thing to come to her mind, but she wouldn’t pretend like the thoughts hadn’t been bothering her for a while. “You said you had no choice—so you didn’t want to take me with you? Is that what you meant?”
The elevator lifted faster than she expected it to. She was able to watch the numbers change on the digital screen over the doors rapidly while the pressure and speed vibrated underneath her feet.
Roman didn’t look at her, not even once, keeping his hand firmly stuffed in the pocket of his pants while his other held tight to her bag. Instead of answering her question, he simply asked, “You talk a lot when you’re nervous or scared, huh?”
Karine chewed on the inside of her lower lip, muttering only, “Sorry—I can’t stop it.”
“That’s okay. Didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I?”
Wasn’t it?
Before she could mull the question—or his words—over, the doors slid open again and welcomed them into what appeared to be another lobby. Only much smaller, with one entire side of the space being dedicated for floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the buildings across the block, and the street below. They passed leather bucket chairs placed on either side of a electric fireplace on the way to the door at the other end of the small corridor.
“The whole floor on this side of the building is the apartment,” he said, making Karine realize he was paying more attention to her than she thought.
How much did a place like this cost?
“It seems—”
“Modern,” he filled in when her words stopped forming altogether. “And the deed to this side of the floor was a gift to me from a family friend involved in the development when I ...” For a moment, his gaze slid to her as he seemed to consider the words he wanted to say. Then all at once, he just decided to apparently say them when he shrugged and said, “They gave it to me as a gift when I joined the family business. Some people tried to make a game out of it—who could get the best gift. Got three cars out of that, too, so hey. Not too bad.”
Karine blinked, unsure of how to respond. Roman seemed to enjoy her stunned silence, the grin stretching across his lips making her heart race a little faster. It screamed wicked—all sorts of fun. It didn’t seem like the time, but he could probably make her willing without even trying. And she liked it.
Roman pulled a keycard from his wallet, and slid it through the electronic lock at the end of the small entry. The door unlocked and opened on its own as he nodded a head toward the dimly lit space that greeted them. His voice was kinder than she expected when he said, “You should have a look around, make yourself at home. Might be
