If it weren’t for years of dealing with powerful and sometimes hotheaded vors, he might have flinched at the request. Or at least shown some subtle surprise or concern that betrayed his hesitancy.

Instead, he forked up a bite of his cheesecake. “I don’t believe I ever commented on the need to take a specific action. Only that I sought to learn the names of people significantly impacted by Alfonsi’s disappearance.”

“And then you said, ‘Angry people tend to take rash actions. Rash actions aren’t good for my family.’”

He had said that. Almost word for word. “You have a very good memory.” Setting aside his fork, he retrieved his phone from the interior pocket of his suit and pulled up a picture one of his men had taken at Sergei and Evette’s holiday wedding just six months ago. Much like the pictures Cassie had appreciated on the walls, the image was beautifully uncontrived and was one of the few photos he’d allowed himself to be captured in for years. He showed it to her. “These are the people I seek to protect.”

Cassie leaned in, the softness he’d glimpsed returning as she zoomed in the screen to better absorb the details. Sergei and Evette stood in the middle with Emerson centered in front of them. Roman and Kir flanked the trio. As always, Evette was all class, done up in a form-fitting strapless ivory dress that hit just above her knees and heels that accented her legs in a way that left Sergei’s eyes hungry. The men were in classic black suits, but it was the smiles on their collective faces that made the image.

A family.

However oddly they’d come together, they were his base. His smiles. His peace. His escape from a world of shame and lack.

She lifted her gaze to his, a silent question in her eyes.

He answered it the best he could without giving her more than she needed to hear. “It’s better to prevent rash actions before they occur. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sitting back in her chair, she peeled off a bite of croissant. “You won’t use the names I give you for anything bad?”

Lying should have been easy. But for some reason, the dispassionate words he’d have easily used on others wouldn’t come. “I promise you that my only purpose is to protect those I care for and those that serve me. I will take no action that isn’t fully proven and warranted.”

The gray blue of her eyes seemed to darken. A color closer to storm clouds than a dusky sunset.

She knew.

She might not want to admit it, or acknowledge the truth out loud, but her conscience accepted who he was and what he was capable of should those within his care be threatened.

Breaking his stare, she dropped the last bite of her croissant back onto the plate and dusted off her fingers. Her voice was low and shaky. “What exactly do you want to know?”