“You know places,” I said, looking at him. “But you don’t look like it.”
He lifted a brow. “I just walked in.”
“They greeted you like they knew you.”
His mouth curved into a small smile. “That makes sense. I might have been here sometimes then.”
I laughed, and the sound lingered just as the waiter arrived with our wine. His hands shook slightly when he set the glasses down. He avoided Rodion’s eyes, like most people did.
But Rodion’s words still echoed in my head—You are my life. He had said it as a fact, not a promise. Those words pressed into my chest even now.
“So,” Rodion drew me back with the smooth pull of his voice. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I traced the rim of my glass with one fingertip. “My father found a job in Italy. He wants us to move. He says it isn’t safe here, and I know he is right.”
Rodion didn’t interrupt. He rarely did. His silence had a way of filling more space than words.
“He said it’s because he worked with you,” I added carefully.
“He did.”
“Exactly. That’s why he’s afraid. He thinks people still know him.”
“They do.”
The waiter returned with our food. I let him retreat before continuing. “I love California. Everything I know is here. But Papa wasn’t wrong. Who knows what will happen next?” My throat tightened. “I’m just glad he can still walk.”
Rodion took a bite and spoke only when he swallowed. “What do you want?”
The question was heavy. It wasn’t the kind you answeredlightly. Not with him. He was a man who knew how to give.
“My parents’ safety,” I said finally. “And if we could stay here. Because if they leave, I’ll have to leave too. You know they’re not safe, right?”
His knife scraped against the plate. He didn’t answer immediately, and the silence gnawed at me.
“They’re not safe anywhere.” He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting easily on the table, his eyes locking into mine. “If anyone wants them, no distance will save them.”
My chest pulled tight. “You make it sound terrifying.”
“Do you think I’d move them back to their house if I knew they weren’t safe?”
“They are?”
“If anyone isn’t safe, it’s you.”
He said it like a verdict, expecting me to nod and accept it.
“I don’t like the way you say things,” I muttered.
His smirk deepened. “Look at your face.”
I tried not to smile back, but it was useless. He went back to eating with the same calmness, while my heart raced. I forced myself to ask, “It’s because of Dmitri, isn’t it?”
He lifted his glass, unbothered. “And you don’t have to worry about that.”
I leaned closer, twisting the corner of my napkin. “Tell me about your brothers.” The look he gave told me he hated the topic. “Fine,” I said, softer. “Tell me about your childhood, then.”
He leaned back. “Roman is the youngest. Stubborn. He’ll take what he wants, no matter who stands in the way. He fights because he thinks Renat stole his place.”