Chapter 7 - The Gilded Fortress and the Secrets Behind His Ruthless Eyes
I scrambled backward, but my back hit the tire of the nearest parked car. “Roman, don’t touch me! Please, don’t take her from me!”
Roman didn't raise his voice. He didn't grab me. He simply tucked the ruined ultrasound photo into his breast pocket, close to his heart, and reached out with agonizing slowness. His fingers brushed the wet hair away from my bruised cheek, his touch so gentle it broke what little composure I had left.
“I didn't tear down three states to take her from you,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly against the howling wind. “I tore them down to keep you both alive.”
Behind him, two more black SUVs slid to a halt. Sofia Vance stepped out, accompanied by four heavily armed operators who immediately secured Dante and cleared the perimeter.
“Boss,” Sofia said, her voice completely devoid of the treason she had shown weeks ago. “We have Bennett’s transmission lines intercepted. He knows Dante engaged. We have twenty minutes before air support arrives.”
I stared at Sofia in absolute horror. “You... you set me up? You gave me the cottage!”
“I gave you the safest safehouse in New England, Evelyn,” Sofia said quietly. “One that was ringed with seismic sensors and satellite relays so Roman could track Bennett’s hunting parties without putting you in the line of fire.”
“Get in the vehicle, Evelyn,” Roman commanded softly, standing and offering his hand.
“No!” I sobbed, struggling to stand on my own. “You lied to me! Your whole life is a lie! I won’t raise a child in that blood-soaked mansion! I won’t watch my daughter grow up waiting for a car bomb to take her father!”
Roman didn't argue. He stepped forward, scooped me up into his arms effortlessly, and ignored my fists pounding against his chest. He carried me into the reinforced interior of the SUV, pulling me onto his lap as the armored doors sealed shut with a heavy, pressurized thud.
The convoy accelerated instantly, speeding toward an unknown destination.
I tried to push away from him, but Roman wrapped both arms around me, locking me against his broad chest. His face buried into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent as if he had been suffocating for five months.
“Hit me, scream at me, hate me all you want,” Roman murmured against my skin, his chest heaving. “You can divorce me. You can take every single cent in my accounts. But until Bennett is dead and his syndicate is ashes, you stay where I can stand between you and the world.”
“Why didn't you let me go?” I wept against his soaked shirt. “Why couldn't you just let us be normal?”
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Roman lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his dark, tortured eyes.
“Because the day you left, Evelyn, I signed the surrender papers to transfer the entire Atlantic shipping network to the federal authorities. I was dismantling the syndicate to walk away with you. And your disappearance almost made me burn the deal to the ground.”
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