Chapter 39: Sofia

"Sofia?" Roman's gaze drops from mine to the photo in my hand.

I moisten my lips, at a loss for what to say.

"What are you doing?"

"I found a picture of you."

He closes the distance between us in five long strides. Plucking it from my shaking fingers, he gives the photograph a cursory glance. My heart pounds under my breast, the sound echoing in my ears.

"Where?" he asks in something that resembles a growl.

I cringe and consider lying but decide there isn't a point because he'll figure out the truth in a matter of moments if he hasn't already. "In your desk, stuck to the bottom of a drawer."

He doesn't ask why I was rummaging through his belongings at one in the morning. We're way past that now.

Through stiff lips, I force out a question of my own. "You were a cop?"

Squaring his shoulders, Roman runs a hand through his hair. "Still am."

My mind flips, trying to make sense out of what he just confirmed. "But you work for my father," I say stupidly.

His gaze turns steely. "Yes.