Page 252 of Sexting His Assistant

I hesitate.

Roman says, “Nina.”

“I’m at Luka’s house,” I say.

“Of course you are,” Roman says. “I expected him to put you somewhere he could control.”

“He’s trying to keep me safe.”

“That can be true at the same time.”

I hate that he says it calmly.

I hate that part of me understands what he means.

“What do you know?” I ask.

Roman says, “Enough to tell you that Misha did not do what Luka thinks he did.”

My chest tightens. “Then tell Luka.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because Luka’s not listening. He’s reacting. And I’m the last person he’ll listen to.”

I sigh. “What do we do now? We don’t have proof.”

“I didn’t say that,” Roman says.

My eyes fly open. “Then tell me.”

“Not on the phone.”

I stand up, suddenly too restless to stay still. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t know who is near you, and I don’t know what’s being recorded in that house.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say.

“Is it?” Roman asks. “You’re in Luka Kazan’s house, surrounded by his people, while his men build a case against your brother. Do you know where every phone in that room is? Every camera? Every open laptop? Every guard in the hall?”

I don’t answer.

Roman says, “I’ll text you an address.”

“What’s there?” I ask.

“Someone who can tell you what happened.”

“Who?”

He ignores my question. “Come to the address. Listen. Decide for yourself.”

My phone buzzes against my ear.

A message arrives while Roman is still on the line.