Claiming Roman
Page 33
Once he and Val were gone, Angie saw an opportunity to sneak away to the Romanovsky’s guest bathroom.
She closed the door shut behind her and sat on the toilet, dialing Jessica’s number.
Jessica answered on the first ring, whispering angrily. “You broke into my office.”
“Did I seriously just walk by you hiding in the Romanovsky’s bushes? That’s a little over the top, Jess, even for you.”
“You broke into my office.”
“Are you going to have me arrested?”
“You broke into my office.”
“Well, you wouldn’t give me the information I was asking for--”
“You broke into my office. You drugged my brother. I came to work and saw him lying in that piss infested alley. I thought the son of a bitch was dead. And you broke into my office.”
“Am I going to jail?”
A long paused followed her inquiry, but Jessica was still breathing so hard Angie could almost feel the warmth coming in through the phone’s receiver.
“No,” Jessica finally answered.
“Seriously?”
“I can hear you smiling through the phone. This isn’t funny. This isn’t a joke. As of this morning, this case is officially re-opened--hence me sitting in the fucking bushes--and now that you’ve got your greedy little eyeballs on all of that confidential information, you need to burn it all, as in, today.”
“Already done,” Angie lied.
She was somewhat flattered as the truth washed over her. Jessica wasn’t going to have her arrested, because she still needed Angie. Not only did Jessica need Angie, she trusted her judgment. It was what had brought both of them this far, after all. Angie's heart warmed as she realized, Jessica trusted her.
Jessica, of course, would cut off her right arm before she’d ever admit it, but in a way, she and Angie had always had a great partnership. Jessica would never say it out loud, but Angie didn’t need her to.
She knew how to read between the lines.
“I assume you saw the only name on my cleared list,” Jessica said.
“I did.”
“The one and only name.”
Angie sighed. “Don’t remind me.”
She couldn’t think about the fact that there was a murderer living among the Romanovskys—that there had been for ten years--for another second. Her stomach, and her heart, both needed a damn break.
The man she loved was on the other side of that door, making peace. Making peace with a family full of potential killers, yes, but peace never-the-less. And Angie wanted that even more than she wanted the truth.
She wanted peace for Roman.
Even if it would be very, very short lived.
As she thought of her deep love for him, Angie found herself suddenly agitated. “You couldn’t have just told me that he wasn’t the one driving from the very beginning? It would have saved me quite a lot of headache, and Leroy a long night of sleeping in the alley.”
A long pause came. “And what fun would that have been?”
Angie scoffed. “Thanks a lot, Borgia.”
“I’m thrilled that you and your pretty boy can finally have your happily ever after.”
“You sound very thrilled.”
“Now you need to leave the dirty work to the big boys.”
“Happy to.”
“And Angie? If you happen to see me anytime in the near future… You don’t know me. Understood?”
Angie didn’t have to ask what that meant. “I understand.”
“And stop looking into this case.”
“I will.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
“Goodbye, Jess.”
“Bye, Angelica.”
***
On the other side of the house, Roman and Val entered the library.
“It’s good to see you here tonight.” Val came in behind Roman, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you came, man. I don’t think you have any idea what it means to Ma.”
Roman turned to him, nodding towards the hallway. “Close the door.”
A hint of surprise crossed Val’s face at Roman’s sudden abruptness, but he did what he was told without argument.
“I’m not here for Ma, I’m not here for Pop… I’m not here for any of it.” Roman had gritted his teeth through the entire reunion with his parents in the driveway. He’d put on a hell of a show, not just for his parents, but for Angie, as well. It was important for her to think this little family reunion had come from his heart, from some deep longing for the parents he was still angry at—who he could foresee himself being angry at for years to come. No, Angie couldn’t know what Roman had found in her Zoey File the night before. She couldn’t know that the real reason he’d come to the Romanovsky home that day---the only reason--was because he knew that this was the only place in the world that Val Romanovsky would be on a Sunday afternoon. Roman didn’t have the stomach to wait until Monday to confront his brother with what he’d found.
Once the door was closed, Val turned back to Roman and pushed his hands into his pockets, frowning. “Are you finally ready to come back to work? You know you don’t have to ask--”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
Val was stung, and it showed. “Well, it doesn’t really matter why you’re here. It just matters that you are.”
Roman attempted to take deep, even breaths, doing everything he could to keep himself in check. “Val, I’m going to ask you this question one time, just one time… and I swear, after this one time, I’ll never ask you again.”
Val’s frown grew deeper.
Roman produced a tattered piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with shaky hands. His chest visibly heaved as he unfolded it, stared down at it for a moment, and then held it up for Val to see.
Val’s face went ghost white.
The image cleared in Val’s vision, crystalized in his mind. He blinked, and then, he was tranquilized. Stoic. Riddled with shock from head to toe.
His mug shot from ten years ago, the mug shot he’d been promised had been buried, destroyed. There it was, and just like that, the night came crashing down on him like it was yesterday.
His unborn child was the first thing he thought of, and then Zoey. Tears stabbed his eyes in an instant. Without a word, his watery gaze rose to meet Roman’s, filled with a mix of regret, and something else.
Something that left Roman feeling cold and, alarmingly, fearful of his younger brother--of what he was capable of. Roman was not fearful enough, however, to bite his tongue.
“Val?” Roman’s hand trembled, and the mug shot he clinched under it vibrated with it. He couldn’t stop his own eyes from tingeing red with emotion as he forcefully shook the photo in his hand. “Did you kill Zoey’s parents?
Coming Soon
Loving Leo
1
Jessica Borgia’s knees were officially going numb. Kneeling behind a line of bushes had quickly grown not just utterly boring, but painful. She squinted against the setting sun as she snapped dozens of photos of the Romanovsky house on her cellphone. Val, Gary, Roman, Angie and Zoey had all arrived for the family’s customary Sunday dinner. All of the Romanovskys were present and accounted for.
All but one.
The one she was waiting for.
Right on cue, a loud car engine snarled in the distance. It made the grass at her feet vibrate. She immediately recognized the distinct roar of a Porsche Flat 6, and she hopped to her feet, tucking her phone into the exercise band around her arm.
After straightening her sports bra, she began to jog in place, gazing down the street in anticipation.
When the sparkling red stunner came into view, flying down the street a little faster than was necessary, she made a mad dash. She hadn’t expected the son of a bitch to disrespect the traffic laws quite this excessively, they were in a residential neighborhood, after all, and as she raced into the street, she could only pray that her timing was right.
It was perfect.
The Porsche hit her, harder than she would have cared for, enough to send her flying onto her back. As her skull crashed into the pavement, she winced and bit back a scream, not having planned on taking a hit that hard.
She sat up with a moan, just in time to see her mark jump out of the car and circle around the front.
She held an arm out, waiting for an apology, a little compassion, perhaps a clumsy, frantic attempt at helping her to her feet. “I’m okay--”
“What the fuck, woman? Do you always make it a habit of jogging in the middle of the street? You’re going to get yourself killed. And this is a brand new grill!”
Still on her back, Jessica watched in awe as he raced to his car, running his hands delicately over his precious grill before even thinking of helping her to her feet.
So she stood to her feet on her own, taking a quick moment to adjust her tits in her sports bra. It was time for those DDDs to do the job they were born to do.
You’re on, ladies.
Once he managed to tear his golden eyes away from his precious car, and back over to her, he didn’t even make it to her face. His gaze instantly went straight to her cleavage.
And stayed there.
“You should really watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” he said, much more softly this time. He finally managed to force his gaze up to her eyes. The moment he saw her face, his own melted into a smile. “Are you hurt?”
Yes, you son of a bitch!
“I’m fine. In fact, I should be the one apologizing. I can be so scatter brained sometimes.” She leaned forward slightly, worried that her breasts might, literally, spill right out of the sports bra as she did. She had bought it two sizes too small for a reason.
Predictably, his eyes shot right back down, and he motioned absently behind him. “This is my parents house… right back there. Do you want to come inside and sit down for a minute? Maybe, get a closer look? Make sure there’s no bleeding or bruising… or anything?”
Bingo.
Jessica almost laughed. To that day she was still amazed at what idiots all men were. One shot of her huge breasts, and this fool was putty in her hands.
“I’d love to come inside,” she agreed, giving him her best smile.
He gave one right back, offering his hand. “I’m Leo. Leo Romanovsky.”
Feeling the familiar euphoria only her work could bring her, Jessica Borgia gave Leo Romanovsky her hand.
And it was game on.
“I’m Ashley,” she said. “Ashley Williams.”
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