Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Became My Unwanted Employee—And Chicago Couldn’t Believe What It Was Seeing
For a full thirty seconds, I couldn't decide whether Roman Caldwell had lost his mind or whether this was some elaborate psychological game.
Probably both.
"Put that down."
He looked at the radiator.
"Where?"
"On the pallet."
He nodded.
The answer was so normal that I almost laughed.
"That's six hundred pounds."
"I noticed."
"You'll crush your shoes."
He looked down at his polished leather shoes, now ruined by grease.
"They were ugly anyway."
Garrett coughed.
Mave looked at him.
Garrett immediately looked at the ceiling.
Declan was trying very hard not to grin.
Boyd had failed completely.
Roman gave them one look.
The grin vanished.
I pointed toward the pallet.
"Left."
He shifted his grip.
"No. Your other left."
His mouth twitched.
"I have two."
"Apparently one is decorative."
He moved.
The radiator landed with a thunderous crash.
Dust exploded into the air.
I covered my mouth.
Roman coughed.
Garrett started laughing.
A second later, Roman did too.
It was a short sound.
Almost unfamiliar.
I hadn't realized until that moment that I'd never heard him laugh.
He looked younger without the expression of permanent control carved into his face.
Then he caught me staring.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You were staring."
"I'm trying to figure out whether this is real."
"It is."
"You just moved a radiator."
"Yes."
"Your men are armed."
"Yes."
"And you're working for me."
"Until the debt is cleared."
I crossed my arms.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
The strangest thing was that he wasn't asking me to thank him.
He wasn't asking for praise.
He was simply doing the work.
That made it harder to hate him.
Which annoyed me.
I walked toward the old warehouse section.
"Fine."
He followed.
"You want to earn your way into the shop?"
"Yes."
"Then start with this."
I pointed at a pile of rusted iron beams.
"Sort them by weight, length, and condition."
Garrett raised an eyebrow.
Roman stared at the pile.
Then at me.
"That's all?"
"You expected a board meeting?"
"I expected something dangerous."
"This is dangerous."
He looked skeptical.
"You have no idea how many people have broken toes moving these."
He nodded solemnly.
"I understand."
He started sorting.
I stood there for a moment.
Then I got back to work.
For the next four hours, the strangest thing happened.
Nothing.
No threats.
No demands.
No arguments.
Roman worked.
He lifted.
Measured.
Carried.
Stacked.
He asked questions when he didn't know something.
He didn't pretend.
That surprised me most.
I'd spent my entire childhood around men who considered admitting ignorance a weakness.
Roman didn't.
At six that evening, I realized he had done more physical work than any customer I'd ever had.
He was exhausted.
His white shirt was gray.
His hands were scraped.
His shoulders were tense.
And he still hadn't complained once.
I handed him a bottle of water.
He took it.
"Thank you."
"Don't make it weird."
"Too late."
I rolled my eyes.
Garrett looked between us.
"What?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
Roman looked at him.
Garrett instantly stopped.
Then I heard a car horn outside.
My stomach tightened.
A black sedan pulled into the yard.
Three men stepped out.
Not Roman's men.
I knew them.
They worked for my father's old creditor.
The one who had sold my debt to Roman.
The tallest one, Vince, looked around.
"Well."
His eyes landed on Roman.
"You already have company."
Roman put the water down.
"You're on private property."
Vince laughed.
"Not after midnight."
He held up a document.
"Your deadline ends tonight."
I took the paper.
It was a foreclosure notice.
Roman didn't look at it.
"Get out."
Vince smiled.
"Funny. This isn't your property either."
Roman stepped beside me.
"It is now."
Vince looked amused.
"Since when?"
"Since I paid the note."
My head snapped toward him.
"You what?"
Roman didn't look at me.
Vince's smile disappeared.
"You bought the debt?"
"Yesterday."
"You weren't supposed to."
"That's usually how purchasing works."
Vince stepped closer.
"You think money changes everything?"
"No."
Roman's gaze went cold.
"People do."
Vince looked at me.
"You have until midnight."
Roman answered.
"She doesn't."
He took the foreclosure notice from my hand and tore it in half.
Then again.
And again.
He dropped the pieces at Vince's feet.
"Leave."
Vince glanced at Roman's men.
Then at Roman.
Then laughed.
"This isn't finished."
Roman's expression didn't change.
"I know."
The sedan pulled away.
I turned to him.
"You bought my debt?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because your father doesn't own your future."
"You said the debt was your leverage."
"It was."
"You can't just change the rules."
"I can."
"That's not an answer."
He looked at me.
"It's the only one you're getting."
I shook my head.
"This doesn't make sense."
Roman stepped closer.
"You think I brought that ring because I wanted a wife."
"You said you did."
"I needed one."
"Same thing."
"No."
His eyes held mine.
"I wanted someone I could trust."
"And you decided that was me because I throw copper thieves out of my yard?"
"Because you refused me."
I frowned.
"That makes no sense."
"It does to me."
He paused.
"Every woman in my world says yes before I finish asking."
"And?"
"I needed to know what it felt like to hear no."
I stared.
"You're insane."
"Probably."
He walked toward the office.
Then stopped.
"By the way."
"What?"
"I'll be back tomorrow."
"Why?"
He looked over his shoulder.
"You haven't taught me how to use the welding torch."
I laughed before I could stop myself.
He smiled.
That night, after he left, I stood alone in the salvage yard.
For the first time in months, the place didn't feel like a dying business.
It felt like something was beginning.
I didn't know what.
May you like
I only knew that Roman Caldwell had entered my life owing me nothing...
...and somehow, he had become the first man in years willing to work for something instead.
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