"And how are we going to do that?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, settling back into the couch. 

I'm on an emotional rollercoaster that I am definitely not tall enough to ride.

Luka opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of the door to the living room opens, and the sound of wheels on wood rise in the room. 

I look up to see Roman, one hand maneuvering his chair, and the other holding a tray of cookies.

This is so freaking weird. 

"Cookies, Roman?" Luka says questioningly, quirking a scarred eyebrow. 

"Hey, just because you're a badass doesn't mean you can't appreciate my beautiful baking. Not a lot to do when you're stuck on two wheels, and I can actually reach the oven fairly well." Roman winks at Luka, then smiles cheekily at me. 

Roman is almost classically handsome, with high cheekbones and full lips, and his dark eyes shining oddly. His teeth are almost too white. Honestly, in any other situation, I would be attracted to him. Or even just be his friend. 

"How are you feeling, Katya?" He rolls over to where I'm sitting on the couch, and, without warning, lifts himself from the chair with his arms, settling down on the couch next to me. His legs hang lifelessly off the edge of the couch. 

"I-I'm.." I trail off, not knowing how to respond. My usual response of 'I'm fine' seems too much of a lie, but to tell him the whole truth could be devastating. 

"Breathe, K." He says, giving me a nickname that I haven't heard in a long time. 

"How much do you know?" I whisper, not thinking about what I'm saying. 

He looks me up and down, a sympathetic smile curving onto his lips. A look that tells me he knows way too much. 

"Don't give me that look." I snap, raking a hand through my hair. "I don't need sympathy." 

"I'm not giving you sympathy." He whispers, and a calloused thumb goes to wipe something from my cheek. 

"Your makeup is running." 

Grrreat. 

"Just what I needed." I mutter humorlessly, wiping a sleeve underneath both of my eyes, and coming away with black stained fabric in my hands. 

"Okay, are you two done playing dress up?" Luka snaps and Roman and I both snap our heads into his direction. 

"Sorry, bro." Roman winks at him again, and Luka just rolls his eyes. 

"As I was going to say," He says, leaning forward. "I know my brother well. But there is someone who knows him better than he knows himself. My father." 

"Okay?" I press impatiently, needing Mr. Dramatic to get to the damn point. 

"I'm going to propose something insane, but something that just might work." He mumbles, playing with the ring wrapped around his middle finger. 

I wait a few moments for him to continue speaking, but he just clamps his mouth shut, his jaw grinding and his mind working furiously. 

He looks unbelievably beautiful like this. His dark brows folded towards his eyes, whose grey color glistens in the reflective surface of the window. Every single one of his muscles tightened. He looks up from his hands, and his eyes catch mine, but he doesn't look away. He just stares blindly into my eyes, that are no doubt rimmed with black smudges. Time seems to slow down and spark crackle in the air, as if all the anxiety and anger in his muscles is transferring over to me. 

"Dios mio, what are you saying?" Roman snaps me out of my daydreams, and I clear my throat, breaking the contact between my gaze and Luka's. 

He shakes his head, his hair moving crazily. 

"Sorry, I'm exhausted." He mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his fists. "I need a cigarette." 

"I got some in the back pocket of the wheelchair. Katya, would you be a doll and grab them?" He asks me, charm oozing from his tone. I roll my eyes at the pet name and lean forward so that I can open the back pocket, retrieving a fresh pack of smokes and a lighter. I open the carton-like materiel, pulling out three white and yellow cigarettes. 

I hand one to Roman who smiles. 

"Thanks Kate. You're a doll." 

"Are you ever gonna decide on what to call me?" I smirk. 

Luka clears his throat and I look over at him, his adam's apple bobbing as he nods his head towards the second cigarette in my hand. 

I stand up from the couch, and he follows me with his gaze as I walk over to him, holding my hand out, a cigarette clutched in-between my fingers. He gazes up at me for a moment, his eyes shielding by thick lashes, and he takes it gently from my hold, holding the other hand out for the lighter. 

I hand it to him, and he lights the cigarette expertly, tossing the lighter to Roman, who does the same. 

"You sure you can handle it, Kate?" Roman asks me around the cigarette. 

I roll my eyes and snatch the lighter from his hand, lighting my own. 

The smoke fills my lungs and the sweet burn slips down my throat like a snake, hiding in a warm and burning nest. I exhale deeply, sending a slim stream of the white smoke from my lips. 

We all sigh together. 

"Damn, Kate-" Roman begins to say, excitedly. 

"There'll be time for you to be fascinated by her, Roman." Luka snaps, pulling from the cigarette once more before he begins to speak again. 

"As I was saying, my father knows Marcel more than anyone, they're practically the same person." 

"Yes, we've established that." I snip, my head surrounded by a cloud of nicotine. 

Luka's steel eyes squint at me, staring intently. 

"Sorry." I whisper. 

"This weekend there will be a DQ meeting, and of course my father will be in attendance. But Marcel will still be in hiding so he won't be there. I will attend, as will Roman. And so will you, Katya." 

"What, you're insane." I shriek, my voice cracking slightly from the smoke. 

"Luka, you've been smoking more than I realized." Roman snickers, fiddling with the lighter idly. 

"I'm being serious, Roman." He snips, sighing deeply. 

"Look, we can disguise Katya simply. They know what she looks like but only as a child. We just have to make her look, completely un-childlike." 

"So basically, like a whore?" Roman chuckles, turning his head to look me up and down. 

"Hey!" I snap, flicking the bottom of Roman's chin to keep his eyes where they should be. I then turn to Luka. "Why do I have to be there?" 

"Because you know your mother and father very well, and you'll be able to pick up on any hint that the conversation has turned to them. Also, I will be able to probe my father for information on Marcel. And he won't pay attention to a common whore. All the men at these meetings have at least one woman on their laps." 

I shudder, bile crawling down my throat at the prospect of being one of those busty chested, garter-wearing prostitutes. Even looking like one. 

"Come on, that's practically putting her in the belly of the beast." Roman protests, snubbing out his cigarette on an ash tray settled on the table. 

"Exactly, it's just what we need to do." He says, rolling the cigarette between his fingers anxiously. 

"It's up to you Katya." He says, his eyes flickering to mine once more. 

I look between the two of them, Roman's concerned gaze and Luka's steely one. 

I take a deep breath. 

I can't believe what I'm about to say. 

"Fine, I'm in." 

DISCLAIMER - I DO NOT CONDONE THE USE OF CIGARETTES ESPECIALLY BY TEENAGERS. THE USE OF CIGARETTES IN THIS STORY IS PURELY TO EMPHASIZE THE MATURITY THE CHARACTERS MUST HAVE.