Page 9 of Graves

“Do I have to move out?” I ask straight up.

Not that I’d enjoy sharing the apartment with this guy, but finding a new place in New York City on zero notice is basically impossible.

“You can stay, of course,” Fox says with a reassuring smile.

“Excuse me?”

It’s the first time I hear Aran Graves speak. His voice is a low growl, rough and ominous, matching the dark aura that clings to him. It’s deeper than I expected—I’ve heard a few Grave Sinner songs.

And no, we hadn’t exchanged any pleasantries before. When I got home, Aran was already planted on the couch, staring at Fox like he’d been ordered to sit there. I refused to shake the guy’s hand. That’s where we’re at.

“We have a contract that doesn’t come up for renewal for another five months,” Fox tells Aran. “So yes, Komura stays. He’ll have time to find something new at his own pace. Plus, it’s probably better for you to have someone around.”

Aran frowns and stares at his bodyguard, mouth slightly open. “Are you seriously worried I might…?”

“No!” Fox says quickly. “But some company will do you good. Help keep your mind off things.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” I snap.

“No one’s asking you to be, Koh. But… Aran’s been gone for five years. A little contact with the outside world can’t hurt.”

“I’m right here,” Aran mutters, still staring at me.

Goddamn it. He reminds me a little of my cousin Damian—the one I know has a few screws loose.

Ugh… Who the hell am I kidding?

I deflate inside and rub both hands over my face.

This has to be a nightmare.

Or maybe it’s my long-overdue punishment.

Fuck. The thing with Jerry was almost ten years ago.

I knew it would catch up to me one day.

I was young. After my mom died, I had only one thing on my mind. No normal eighteen-year-old would have gone out and taken revenge the way I did. That was only possible because my father is Boris Rashkov—infamous head of the Adelfia.

I grew up with my mother, who tried to keep me away from all that mafia shit. But family always mattered to my dad, so I spent every other weekend with him and my half-siblings. After Mom died, it was even Selene—Boris’s wife and my stepmother—who welcomed me into the family with open arms.

“Aran, please,” Fox says. “This all happened so fast. You’re home. You’re a free man. Take it easy. Get your bearings. Enjoy your freedom. Treat yourself.”

I stare at Fox with my mouth open. Is he serious? The guy belongs behind bars.

How can he even sit here with his head held high?

Ben Jenkins is dead. Because of him.

Aran seems untouched by the well-meaning words. He just keeps staring at me—like he can read every thought in my head.

A dark tension vibrates in the air. I feel out of place, like an extra in the wrong movie. I had almost a year of peace in this apartment, and now I’m supposed to become Aran Graves’ roommate overnight?

Fuck. I don’t even have a choice!

If it were up to me, I would’ve thrown everyone out and locked the door. But this isn’t my place. I’m just the tolerated parasite.

How the hell did I end up in this impossible situation?