Chapter 11 - The Empire They Chose to BuildOne year later, Sadi stood inside the same boutique where Trevor Evans had kicked her to the floor.
It looked completely different.
The jewelry cases were gone.
The velvet displays were gone.
The intimidating guards were gone.
In their place stood bookshelves.
Desks.
Computers.
A childcare room.
A coffee station.
Above the entrance was a simple sign.
THE ADAIR CENTER.
A nonprofit organization providing emergency housing, legal support, education grants, and financial counseling for women leaving abusive relationships.
Sadi stared at the sign.
Roman approached from behind.
"You hate the font."
"I hate the font."
"I told them."
"You approved it."
"I was distracted."
"By what?"
"You."
Sadi turned.
Roman wore a dark suit.
At his cuffs were the same rhodium links.
He had kept his promise.
Mostly.
He did remove them to sleep.
After six months of negotiations.
Sadi straightened one.
"You know what's funny?"
"Usually when you ask that, the answer is something insulting about me."
"The first time I stood here, Trevor told me I didn't belong."
Roman's expression cooled.
Even after a year, Trevor's name still had that effect.
Sadi smiled.
"And now?"
"Now you own the building."
"We own the building."
"No."
Roman shook his head.
"You do."
She blinked.
"What?"
He handed her a folder.
Sadi opened it.
Property transfer.
Her name.
She looked up.
"Roman."
"You said I shouldn't buy buildings every time someone annoys you."
"Yes."
"So I transferred one I already owned."
"That is absolutely cheating."
"I disagree."
She laughed.
Across the room, Arthur stood talking with Felix.
Arthur's shoulder had healed.
Felix still claimed Sadi cheated during training.
Sadi still claimed survival had no rules.
Elena stood near the entrance.
Her relationship with Roman remained complicated.
Some wounds did not disappear because people apologized.
But they had started having dinner once a month.
Usually tense.
Occasionally disastrous.
Still progress.
The investigations triggered by Sebastian's archive had lasted months.
Roman lost several companies.
He voluntarily closed others.
For the first time in his adult life, the Ferrara empire existed mostly above ground.
Real estate.
Shipping.
Technology.
Security.
Boring things.
Roman complained constantly.
Sadi suspected he secretly enjoyed sleeping more than four hours.
A young woman approached.
Maybe twenty-two.
Nervous.
"Mrs. Ferrara?"
"Sadi."
The woman smiled.
"I'm Mia."
Sadi recognized the name.
One of the center's first residents.
"You got the apartment?"
Mia nodded.
"And the job."
"Congratulations."
Tears filled Mia's eyes.
"I wanted to thank you."
"You don't have to."
"I do."
Mia swallowed.
"When I came here, I thought I was stupid for staying with him."
Sadi's chest tightened.
"I thought everybody would ask why I didn't leave earlier."
Sadi knew that sentence.
She had lived inside it.
She took Mia's hands.
"Leaving isn't one decision."
Mia looked at her.
"It's a hundred small decisions."
Sadi smiled gently.
"Sometimes you make ninety-nine of them before you're ready for the last one."
Mia cried.
Sadi hugged her.
Across the room, Roman watched.
His expression softened.
Later, after the opening ended, they returned to the penthouse.
The city glowed below.
Sadi removed her shoes.
Roman loosened his tie.
"Successful day," he said.
"Nobody was threatened."
"Disappointing."
"Nobody's company mysteriously collapsed."
"Very disappointing."
"No one was forced onto a bus."
Roman looked offended.
"That happened once."
Sadi laughed.
She walked toward the windows.
Roman followed.
For a while they stood silently.
A year ago, silence had meant secrets.
Now it meant comfort.
Sadi touched her wedding ring.
"Do you miss it?"
"What?"
"Being feared."
Roman considered.
"Sometimes."
She appreciated the answer.
Not polished.
Not heroic.
True.
"And?"
"I prefer being known."
Sadi turned.
"That's disgustingly romantic."
"I've been corrupted."
"Clearly."
Roman wrapped his arms around her.
"By a dangerous woman."
"Who used to work at a diner."
"My favorite criminal mastermind."
"I released one archive."
"You destabilized half the city's political and financial structure before breakfast."
"It was a busy morning."
Roman laughed.
The sound still surprised her.
Years earlier, Sadi had believed safety meant finding someone strong enough to protect her.
She had been wrong.
Safety was not a man.
Not money.
Not guards.
Not penthouses.
Safety was having choices.
Having a voice.
Knowing that love did not require surrender.
Roman had learned that too.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Imperfectly.
She rested her head against his chest.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"That my life is weird."
"Accurate."
"And that I'm hungry."
"I'll call the chef."
"No."
Roman stiffened.
Sadi smiled.
"We're cooking."
"No."
"Yes."
"I survived Viktor Soren."
"Congratulations."
"I will not be defeated by a frying pan."
"That's the spirit."
Twenty minutes later, the smoke alarm activated.
Roman stood beneath it holding a completely burned piece of salmon.
Sadi was laughing so hard she had to lean against the counter.
"This isn't funny."
"It's extremely funny."
"The pan is defective."
"The pan cost eight hundred dollars."
"Then it is expensively defective."
Sadi laughed harder.
Roman stared at the ruined salmon.
Then at her.
Slowly, he began laughing too.
The sound filled the kitchen.
Not power.
Not fear.
Not control.
May you like
Just life.
And for both of them, that was enough.
