Chapter 2 - The Woman Beside Roman Rossi
Sadi wanted to go home.
Roman refused to lie about that.
He did not order her.
He did not drag her toward the SUV.
He simply said, “The safest place for you tonight is my house.”
She crossed her arms outside the restaurant.
“Your house is where I work.”
“It also has better security than your apartment.”
“I knew there was going to be a reason I regretted this.”
Roman stood under the awning while cold rain silvered the street behind him.
“You can regret it tomorrow.”
“I can regret things on schedule now?”
“Yes.”
Despite herself, Sadi almost smiled.
Then she remembered the note.
Caruso knows who she is.
The smile vanished.
Roman’s driver opened the rear door.
Sadi looked back through the restaurant windows. Inside, her family was still talking, eating, photographing themselves beneath warm golden lights.
For years, Sadi had believed those rooms were where safety lived.
Family dinners.
Weddings.
Birthdays.
Now a three-line note had made the street outside feel more honest.
She got into the car.
Roman followed.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally Sadi asked, “Was the meeting really the reason you offered to come?”
Roman did not insult her by pretending not to understand.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt more than it should have.
She turned toward the window.
Roman continued.
“I needed to be publicly visible during a private meeting I had no intention of attending.”
“So I was an alibi.”
“At first.”
Sadi laughed without humor.
“That is a very Roman Rossi answer.”
“It is the truth.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
The city passed in broken lights outside the dark glass.
“When did it stop being only that?”
Roman’s eyes held hers.
“When your mother asked how much you paid me.”
Sadi’s breath caught.
Roman leaned back.
“I have spent most of my life around people who calculate the value of every person in a room. Money. influence. loyalty. fear. Your mother did something I recognize very well.”
“What?”
“She decided your worth before you were allowed to speak.”
Sadi swallowed.
Roman looked toward the window.
“I dislike that habit.”
The mansion was quiet when they arrived.
Roman’s security chief, Matteo DeLuca, met them in the foyer.
Matteo was forty-five, broad-shouldered, and usually wore the exhausted expression of a man responsible for keeping Roman alive despite Roman’s occasional objections.
His eyes moved to Sadi.
“You’re staying here tonight.”
Apparently Roman’s talent for making statements instead of requests was contagious.
Sadi pointed at him.
“You do not get to order me either.”
Matteo looked at Roman.
Roman almost smiled.
“I told you.”
Matteo exhaled.
“Ms. Haddad, Dominic Caruso’s people saw you arrive with Roman. Until we know why Caruso changed the meeting location, it would be wise to remain somewhere controlled.”
“That was almost respectful.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
Sadi sighed.
“Fine.”
She headed toward the servants’ corridor out of habit.
Roman’s voice stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
“My room.”
“No.”
Sadi turned slowly.
Roman nodded toward the grand staircase.
“You'll use the blue guest suite.”
“I have a perfectly good room downstairs.”
“You are not staff tonight.”
Something in his tone made her chest tighten.
“Roman, tomorrow morning I still have a job.”
“If you want it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means tonight changed the situation. If working in my home becomes uncomfortable, you may leave with full pay through the end of the year.”
Sadi stared at him.
“You think pretending to date me means you have to fire me?”
“No. I think asking an employee to continue working under my roof while I am interested in her would create an unfair choice.”
Silence.
Matteo suddenly became fascinated by his phone.
Sadi’s pulse skipped.
“Interested?”
Roman’s face remained composed.
She hated that face.
It made her feel as if she were the only one standing in the room without armor.
“You said this was pretend.”
“It was.”
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
“You are making this very confusing.”
“I know.”
Matteo cleared his throat.
“I can come back.”
“No,” Sadi said quickly.
“Yes,” Roman said at the same time.
Matteo left.
Coward.
Sadi looked back at Roman.
He did not move closer.
That mattered.
“What happens now?”
“Tonight, you sleep.”
“That’s your romantic plan?”
“I have been told rest is useful.”
She stared.
Roman’s mouth twitched.
“Tomorrow, we determine whether Caruso is a problem. After that, if you want nothing to do with me except employment, I will respect it.”
“And if I don’t want the employment?”
“Then you leave it.”
“And if I want neither?”
“Then you get neither.”
Sadi folded her arms.
“And if I want to know whether you meant what you said at dinner?”
Roman’s expression changed.
“Which part?”
“That defending me wasn't difficult.”
He took one slow breath.
“Yes.”
The answer was barely louder than the rain.
“Yes, I meant it.”
Sadi went upstairs before her courage failed.
The blue suite was larger than her entire apartment.
She changed into one of the robes in the closet, washed away her makeup, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her phone showed twenty-three notifications.
Two from Bianca.
Five from relatives.
Three from coworkers.
And thirteen from Ethan.
She opened none of them.
Then another message appeared.
MOM.
Sadi stared at the name.
She opened it.
You embarrassed me tonight.
No question about whether Sadi was safe.
No apology.
No mention of the note, because Celeste did not know about it.
Only embarrassment.
Sadi typed three replies.
Deleted all three.
Then she turned the phone face down.
A knock came twenty minutes later.
Roman stood outside the door holding a tray.
Tea.
Toast.
A bowl of strawberries.
Sadi looked at him.
“Did you make that?”
“No.”
“Good. I was going to call security.”
He handed her the tray.
“You didn't eat dessert.”
“I was busy being toasted like a dead relative.”
He looked almost offended.
“That was not the intention.”
Sadi smiled faintly.
Roman turned to leave.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“Why does Caruso care who I am?”
Roman remained silent long enough that Sadi knew she would dislike the answer.
“The note may have been meant to make me nervous.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes.”
That frightened her more than anything else.
Roman Rossi had admitted fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
He leaned one shoulder against the doorway.
“Caruso and I have a dispute that has lasted several years. Mostly business. Some of it personal. He has been looking for leverage.”
“And tonight I looked like leverage.”
“Yes.”
Sadi wrapped both hands around the warm cup.
“Because you pretended to care about me.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
She looked up.
“Because I failed to pretend.”
The words settled between them.
Sadi forgot the tea.
Forgot Caruso.
Forgot the family.
Roman looked at her as though he had said more than he intended.
Then his phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
The warmth vanished from his face.
“What?”
Roman did not answer immediately.
He turned the phone toward her.
A photograph filled the screen.
It had been taken at dinner.
Roman standing behind Sadi’s chair.
His hand on her shoulder.
Her face tilted upward toward him.
Underneath was a message.
SHE MAKES YOU LOOK HUMAN.
Roman’s voice turned cold.
“Matteo was wrong.”
Sadi swallowed.
“About what?”
“Caruso isn’t trying to learn who you are.”
Roman looked at her.
“He already knew.”
Sadi slept badly.
At three in the morning she walked downstairs in borrowed slippers and found Matteo in the security room watching six monitors at once.
He looked over.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Roman never sleeps either. You two will be exhausting.”
Sadi leaned against the doorframe.
“Do you always talk to him like that?”
“Only when I want to remain employed.”
She smiled.
Then her eyes moved to the screens.
Front gate.
Driveway.
Garden.
Kitchen entrance.
The mansion suddenly looked less like luxury and more like a fortress.
“Has Roman always lived this way?”
Matteo’s expression changed.
“For a long time.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It is.”
Sadi glanced at him.
Matteo returned his attention to the monitors.
“He won't tell you that.”
“Why are you?”
“Because people see the house, the cars, the men at the door, and assume power means freedom.”
He pointed to the cameras.
“It often means the opposite.”
Sadi thought about Roman standing at the blue guest-suite door with a tray of tea.
“Do you trust him?”
“With my life.”
“That was not what I asked.”
Matteo smiled slightly.
“You are good for him.”
“I am not asking whether I am good for him.”
“No. You are asking whether he is good enough for you.”
Sadi blinked.
Matteo shrugged.
“I have daughters.”
She sat in the chair beside him.
“Is he?”
Matteo considered the question longer than she expected.
“He can be.”
Not is.
Can be.
The honesty mattered.
“Roman has spent years believing protecting people gives him the right to decide for them,” Matteo continued. “That habit will make you furious.”
“It already has.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“He needs someone who does not confuse fear with respect.”
Sadi looked at the dark front gate on the monitor.
“And what do I need?”
Matteo’s face softened.
“To remember that being loved by a powerful man does not require becoming powerless.”
The sentence stayed with her.
Upstairs, Roman stood unseen at the end of the corridor.
He had come looking for water.
Instead, he heard Matteo say the one thing Roman himself needed to remember.
He returned to his study without interrupting.
May you like
For the first time, he understood that if this became real, protecting Sadi would not be the hardest part.
The hardest part would be learning where protection ended and control began.
