Finally, he walks to me, grabs my hand, and leads me to the couch.
“I was at a warehouse. A Bratva member was snooping around one of our clubs, and I needed to question him,” Roman tells me.
“Did you hurt him?” I ask, hoping despite reality that he didn’t.
“Yes. I didn’t kill him, but if I needed to, I would’ve.” He sighs and grabs my hand.
I inhale sharply, hating every truth he gives me.
“Ask your questions, Cecilia. I don’t want any more lies between us. I promise you I will answer every question honestly. But please understand that sometimes ignorance truly is bliss. So only ask questions you want the answer to,” he warns me.
“I don’t want any of the answers, but I have to know,” I plead with him.
“Ask. You have my word. No more lies.”
“Did you carve your initials into him like you did Leo and the robber? Like what’s tattooed on my back?” I ask hesitantly.
I hate that I love the tattoo. It’s his signature on me. It’s a visual representation of our ties to each other.
And I’ve noticed the additions to his own ink. His fingers decorated with representations of what I am to him. I’ve even noticed my name where there used to be blank spaces on him.
“Yes. It’s my tagging method. When I interrogate someone, I carve my initials into them. The worse their offense, the bigger their carving. It’s how I keep track of who I’ve caught before. If the mark is recent, then I know they’re a frequent offender.” He sighs and rubs his hand down his face.
“The tattoo on you, it wasn’t to associate you with them. I would never want to do that. It was to tie you to me. If anyone sees my signature, they’ll know you’re mine. They’ll leave you alone. It’s for your protection. My name will keep you safe…” He hesitates. “But I also wanted my claim on you known. I want the world to know you’re mine because I’m a jealous and possessive man when it comes to you. I’m sorry for not asking permission.”
I nod silently, unable to accept his apology just yet.
“Why do you interrogate people?” I ask, focusing on the first explanation he gave.
“I’m the enforcer for the Syndicate,” he explains, looking away from me.
“What’s the Syndicate?” I ask. Leo explained it, but I now have doubts about his honesty.
“It’s the criminal organization my family runs. We have clubs all over our territory and run a few illegal operations. We don’t deal with drugs or weapons though; we have a moral code. We’re like the police of the underworld. We enforce the laws, and if someone breaks them, we handle it. But we’re held to the same standard.” His eyes shine with pride as he explains what his family does.
“Oh,” I say, at a loss for words. “Who all is involved?”
“My dad started it years ago. His father was involved with many of the families and was a casualty to a war that broke out among them. Dad created the Syndicate to ensure and enforce the peace between the families. Mom was never involved. Dad kept her out of it, just as I plan on keeping you out of it.” He grabs my hands and rubs his thumbs over the backs of them. “Dom is the head. He took over when Dad retired. As the oldest, it made sense. Matthias isn’t really involved. He actually does run Syndicate Enterprise, but I have nothing to do with it. I’m the enforcer for the Syndicate. My crew and I enforce the rules, typically by violence.” He winces when he says it. “And Bash is our tech genius. He works for both the Syndicate and Syndicate Enterprise. There’s nothing he can’t do with a computer.”
I feel a pang in my chest at the realization that his entire family knew and never told me.
“Does Margot know?” I whisper.
“Yes. She had a bad run in with the Bratva last year. Matthias keeps her out of it now.” Roman’s eyes sadden when he mentions Margot’s incident, so I don’t pry.
The betrayal that Margot knew and kept it from me feels like a punch to the gut. I thought we were friends.
“So, they all knew you were lying to me, and never told me?” I choke out.
“Yes, sunshine. But every single one of them demanded I tell you. They cursed me out for lying to you. Margot almost hit me when she confronted me about it. She was fuming. My dad’s the only one who didn’t push, but I think it’s only because he wishes he could’ve shielded Mom more.” He sighs then cups my cheeks. “They love you. You’re part of our family. Please don’t think they supported me in any way. And when you were gone, every one of us was out looking for you. Even Matthias and my parents got involved. You’re a Montclair. We love you and would’ve stopped at nothing to find you.” His eyes plead with me to understand, and I’m starting to.
“Okay, I believe you. Is there anything else I should know about the Syndicate?” I ask warily, not sure how much more I can handle.
“We’ve made an enemy out of the Bratva. They’re the Russian crime family. We don’t have a great relationship with them. Well, I made an enemy out of the Bratva. When you were gone, I thought they took you. So… I attacked them. Brutally. I had many victims. I was hellbent on finding you and couldn’t see reason through my fear of what might be happening to you. We narrowly avoided a war. Only Dom’s diplomacy was able to protect us,” he confesses, unable to make eye contact. His shame heals a little part of me. I can tell he regrets his actions even if only because they didn’t help him find me sooner.
I squeeze his hand.
“You didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues,” I try to explain. I can’t bear that people are dead because of me.
