Chapter 7
The elevator doors glided open with a soft chime, revealing the penthouse suite. It was a sprawling, magnificent space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline. The lighting here was softer, cinematic but natural, free of the harsh glare of the ballroom. The furnishings were modern, dark leather and polished mahogany, reflecting Roman's elegant yet dangerous persona.
Roman walked into the living area and gently set Sophie down on a massive, plush leather sofa. The little girl looked around in awe, her worn flats dangling over the edge of the cushions.
"Are you hungry, Sophie?" Roman asked, his deep voice softening.
"A little bit," Sophie nodded, her bright blue eyes wide.
Roman pressed a button on the intercom on the wall. "Send up a tray. Hot meals. Milk, juice, whatever you have in the kitchens. Immediately."
He turned back to Nora, who was standing awkwardly near the center of the room, her arms wrapped around herself as if shielding her body from the sheer wealth surrounding her.
"Take off your coat, Nora. Please," Roman urged softly.
Nora slowly slipped out of her modest beige coat, draping it over the back of a chair. She looked at him, her fair, rosy cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and profound sorrow.
"You really believed I took a payout?" Nora asked, her voice cracking. "After everything we promised each other? You thought I would just sell you and our child for cash?"
Roman stepped closer, his jaw tightening. "My mother provided forged banking documents. She provided witness statements from our own men. I was weak, recovering from three gunshot wounds. She isolated me. She told me you aborted the child and moved to the West Coast with the money."
Nora gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "My god. She is a psychopath."
"She is a traditionalist," Roman corrected coldly, his sharp eyes darkening. "She believed you were a liability. But I should have looked harder. I should have torn the country apart until I found you myself. I failed you, Nora. And I failed my daughter."
"We survived," Nora whispered, looking at Sophie, who was now fascinated by a heavy silver paperweight on the coffee table. "But it was hard, Roman. It was so hard. When the rent was due, and I had to skip meals so she could eat... I hated you. I hated you for dying."
Roman closed the distance between them. He reached out, his tattooed hands gently framing her face. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones.
"You will never skip a meal again," Roman vowed, his voice a low, raspy whisper that vibrated with absolute sincerity. "You own everything I have. Every dollar, every property, every man who works for me. It is all yours."
May you like
Nora leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as a fresh wave of tears escaped. "I don't want the money, Roman. I don't want the mafia. I just wanted my family back."
"You have me," Roman said, resting his forehead against hers. "But the mafia is what I am now. I cannot step down. If I show weakness, they will kill us all."
