Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN HIS HOUSE
Z
Sadi did not return to her apartment.
Roman refused.
“The Morettis saw you with me.”
“So?”
“So they will assume you matter.”
“I’m your housekeeper.”
“They don’t know that.”
“They can Google me.”
“They have.”
Sadi stopped walking.
Roman continued through the private garage.
“You could mention important information before saying terrifying things.”
“I’m beginning to notice that.”
She followed him into the elevator.
“What exactly did they find?”
“Your apartment address. Employment history. Family members.”
Her anger vanished.
“My family?”
“Already protected.”
“Without asking me?”
“Yes.”
“Roman.”
“Sadi.”
The elevator opened into his penthouse.
She had worked for Roman for eighteen months and never entered this place.
The Rossi estate was his official residence.
This apartment clearly existed for disappearing.
It was enormous and surprisingly bare.
Black stone.
Dark wood.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Chicago.
No photographs.
No clutter.
Almost no evidence that a human being lived there.
“You stay here tonight.”
“For how long?”
“Until I solve the problem.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It is.”
Roman walked toward the kitchen.
Sadi watched him struggle slightly to remove his jacket.
His injured shoulder stopped him.
She sighed.
“Come here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You have said that seventy times.”
She approached and carefully eased the jacket from his arms.
Roman became very still.
Sadi suddenly realized how intimate the act felt.
Her fingers brushed his neck.
His breathing changed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She removed the jacket completely.
A thin smear of blood had soaked through the fresh bandage.
“You need to sit.”
“I need to make calls.”
“You need to sit.”
Roman stared.
Sadi pointed toward a chair.
Something extraordinary happened.
Roman obeyed.
For the next hour, she cleaned around the wound while Roman conducted business through his phone.
His voice transformed when speaking to his men.
Cold.
Precise.
Terrifying.
“Find out who authorized the country club attack.”
Pause.
“No retaliation until I know.”
Pause.
“Because civilians were involved.”
Sadi looked at him.
Another pause.
“No. That is not a suggestion.”
He ended the call.
“You’re not killing anyone?”
Roman looked toward her.
“Eventually?”
“Roman.”
“You asked a broad question.”
She slapped a fresh bandage over his shoulder slightly harder than necessary.
He winced.
“That was intentional.”
“Yes.”
“I appreciate honesty.”
“You have strange standards.”
Roman’s gaze settled on her.
“You stayed.”
“What?”
“At the clinic.”
“You were shot because of me.”
“I was shot because someone aimed poorly.”
“That is the least reassuring sentence you’ve ever said.”
Again, that faint almost-smile.
Sadi finished the bandage.
When she straightened, they were inches apart.
Roman’s hand rested beside her hip.
Her knees nearly touched his.
Neither moved.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“I find the men responsible.”
“And me?”
“You stay protected.”
“I have work.”
“You work for me.”
“My boss is annoying.”
“I’ve heard.”
She smiled unwillingly.
Roman looked at her mouth.
The atmosphere shifted.
Sadi stepped backward first.
“I need sleep.”
“There’s a guest suite.”
“Good.”
She walked three steps.
“Sadi.”
She turned.
Roman stood.
His face was serious again.
“About what I said earlier.”
Her stomach tightened.
“The responsibility thing?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do.”
Roman approached slowly.
“I am good at calculating risk. Money. Loyalty. Violence.”
“Romantic.”
“I’m not finished.”
She folded her arms.
“I don’t understand what you do to my judgment.”
That silenced her.
Roman continued.
“When I saw those messages from your mother, I thought the dinner offered a useful solution.”
“An alibi.”
“Yes.”
“But when I saw Derek look at you…”
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
“I wanted him to understand what he lost.”
Sadi’s heart began pounding.
“That was part of the performance.”
“No.”
Roman stepped closer.
“That was the problem.”
Silence filled the apartment.
Sadi’s voice became smaller.
“You barely know me.”
“I know you put cinnamon in your coffee when you think nobody sees.”
She blinked.
“You feed the stray cat behind my house even though my security chief told you not to.”
“That cat hates everyone except me.”
“You hum when you polish glass.”
Embarrassment warmed her cheeks.
“You give half your lunch to Rosa because she sends money to her family and pretends she isn’t hungry.”
Sadi swallowed.
Roman’s voice lowered.
“I know you hate thunderstorms but pretend you don’t.”
“How?”
“You always clean the same countertop twice when thunder starts.”
Nobody had ever noticed that.
Not Derek.
Not her mother.
Maybe not even Sadi.
Roman’s expression tightened.
“So no, I don’t know everything about you.”
His eyes met hers.
“But I know enough to understand that the people who made you believe you were difficult to love were idiots.”
Sadi stopped breathing.
Roman seemed surprised by his own words.
Then she stepped toward him.
“Roman.”
“Yes?”
“You are terrible at pretending.”
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Giving her time to move.
She didn’t.
His fingertips touched her cheek.
Sadi closed her eyes.
Then his phone rang.
Roman froze.
Sadi laughed softly from sheer disbelief.
“You should answer.”
“I’m considering murder.”
“That would violate the spirit of our evening.”
The phone continued ringing.
Roman answered.
“What?”
His expression changed almost immediately.
Sadi watched the softness disappear.
“When?”
Silence.
“Send me the photograph.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?”
Roman’s phone buzzed.
A photograph appeared.
He stared at it.
Then looked at Sadi.
“What?”
Without speaking, he turned the screen toward her.
The photograph showed the front door of Sadi’s apartment.
Pinned against it with a knife was the emerald strap from her dress.
Beneath it was a handwritten note.
WE KNOW SHE MATTERS.
Sadi felt cold spread through her body.
Roman took the phone back.
His voice became quieter than she had ever heard it.
“You’re not leaving my sight.”
May you like
“For how long?”
“Until every person who knows your name regrets learning it.”
