Chapter 8 - The Debt Behind Our Marriage Wasn't What We Thought—And Roman Finally Told Me The Truth
Roman's debt wasn't financial.
It was personal.
His father had owed something to mine.
A promise.
Twenty years earlier, the two men had agreed that their children would be protected from the underworld.
But when Roman's father disappeared, the promise became a liability.
Victor had used it against Roman.
He claimed that if Roman ever tried to leave the criminal world, the debt would transfer to whoever he loved most.
Me.
That was why Roman had proposed.
He thought marrying me would make me untouchable.
I stared at him.
"You knew?"
"Part of it."
"You used the marriage as protection."
"At first."
I looked away.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was ashamed."
"Of protecting me?"
"Of deciding for you."
He stepped closer.
"I was wrong."
I looked at him.
"You were."
"I know."
He handed me another folder.
The debt had been dissolved years earlier.
Victor had forged the documents.
Roman could have ignored them.
But he hadn't known that.
Now he did.
"So we don't owe anyone anything?"
"No."
"Then why are you still afraid?"
His eyes moved toward the window.
"Because people who spent their lives believing in power don't surrender quietly."
He was right.
Within hours, someone attacked one of our legitimate businesses.
No one was seriously hurt.
But the message was clear.
The old network wasn't completely gone.
A rival group wanted Roman back.
They offered him money.
Power.
Territory.
He refused.
They threatened him.
He refused again.
Then they came after me.
My salvage yard was set on fire.
I arrived after the firefighters had contained it.
Half the roof was damaged.
The stained-glass window was destroyed.
I stood in the rain staring at the wreckage.
Roman walked beside me.
"I'm sorry."
"This isn't your fault."
"It is."
"No."
He looked at me.
"You don't get to carry everyone else's crimes."
He took my hand.
"I love you."
The words came quietly.
Unexpectedly.
I looked at him.
"I love you too."
It wasn't dramatic.
It was simple.
And somehow that made it stronger.
We rebuilt the salvage yard.
Not with Roman's money.
With insurance, loans, community donations, and work.
People I had helped over the years came back.
A carpenter.
A welder.
An architect.
A retired mechanic.
A woman whose restaurant I'd rescued after a flood.
Everyone brought something.
The yard reopened three months later.
The stained-glass panel was restored.
The radiator stayed.
Roman kept it in the center of the workshop.
I teased him.
"You just like it because it's the first thing you lifted."
He smiled.
"It was the first thing you trusted me to carry."
I rolled my eyes.
He kissed my forehead.
Then he looked serious.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"My mother wants you to have this."
He handed me an old jewelry box.
Inside was a tiny silver pendant.
My mother gasped when she saw it.
"That's mine."
She picked it up.
"Your father gave it to me before we separated."
I stared.
"Then why give it to me?"
"Because you're the proof that we survived."
She hugged me.
Then she said:
"Your wedding should happen here."
"In the yard?"
She smiled.
"Where he learned how to build."
I looked at Roman.
May you like
He nodded.
So we did.
