Chapter 2 - The interior of Roman’s black SUV smelled strongly of leather, expensive cologne, and the permanent trace of gun oil.
He did not summon a driver.
He took the wheel and forced the heavy vehicle into gear.
The engine came alive with a deep sound that moved through the floor.
They traveled down the winding driveway and through the wrought-iron gates, tires cutting across the wet road.
Norah sat rigidly inside the passenger seat with both hands closed together on her lap.
She kept her attention on the windshield wipers and could not make herself look at the man beside her.
“You’ve been saving your own wages,” Roman said.
It was not a question.
“I live simply.”
“You live like a ghost.”
His eyes remained on the rain-darkened road.
“You eat stale bread. Your shoes are separating at the seams. You work additional shifts to give your labor to Liam Sullivan because a foolish boy made a mistake.”
“He’s my family. He’s all I have.”
Roman tightened his hands around the steering wheel.
The leather moved beneath his grip.
“Family shouldn’t require you to bleed for its mistakes.”
He turned sharply into the industrial district.
Several streetlights had been broken. The narrow roads, damaged by potholes, were submerged in darkness.
The SUV entered the alley behind the crumbling brick wall of St. Jude’s Parish.
Its headlights exposed the scene.
Ben stood with his back against a rusted dumpster. His clothing was soaked. His face was swollen and bruised.
3 men in inexpensive leather jackets surrounded him.
The largest had a shaved head and held a steel pipe, striking it casually against his open hand.
Liam Sullivan.
Norah reached for the door handle.
Her heart rose into her throat.
“Norah, stay in the car.”
Roman’s command broke through the vehicle like a whip.
He did not allow her time to object.
He switched off the engine and entered the rain.
Norah froze with her hands against the cold window.
Roman walked toward the men with casual and terrifying confidence.
He did not draw a weapon.
He had brought no visible support.
He entered the alley as though the concrete beneath their feet belonged to him.
It probably did.
Liam raised 1 hand against the glare from the headlights.
“Stay back. This is private business.”
Roman continued.
He stopped approximately 5 feet away.
Rain struck his shoulders and soaked the white shirt against his body.
“Nothing in this city is private if it happens on my concrete, Liam.”
There was no emotion in his voice.
Liam lowered his hand.
Recognition reached his face.
The color disappeared from it.
The steel pipe fell and struck the wet ground with a loud metallic sound.
The other 2 men retreated instinctively, suddenly eager to disappear into the brick wall.
“Mr. Moretti,” Liam said.
The false courage had left him.
“I didn’t know you were nearby. We’re collecting a small debt. It doesn’t concern your operation.”
“You’re collecting from a boy connected to a woman who works in my house.”
Roman stepped forward.
Liam recoiled.
“That means you’re harassing what belongs to my household on my territory without permission.”
“We didn’t know, sir. I swear.”
“The debt is finished.”
“He owes us $5,000,” 1 of the men behind Liam said foolishly.
Roman did not look at him.
His amber eyes remained on Liam.
“The debt is finished.”
Liam swallowed.
His head moved rapidly in agreement as he retreated.
“It’s finished, Mr. Moretti. We’ll forget it. We won’t trouble the boy again.”
“If I see you on this side of the river again, I won’t speak to you.”
Roman’s voice remained soft.
“I’ll speak to whoever removes what remains.”
He looked at the 3 men.
“Leave.”
They escaped through the alley, nearly colliding with one another in their effort to disappear.
Roman watched the darkness that had swallowed them.
Then he looked down at Ben.
The young man was shaking uncontrollably and holding his ribs. His eyes were wide with pain and terror.
Roman did not offer assistance.
He regarded him with open disgust.
“If you place her in danger again, the Sullivans will be the smallest of your concerns.”
His voice became a rough snarl beneath the rain.
“Get out of my sight.”
Ben limped away immediately.
Before vanishing, he looked once toward the SUV with desperate apology.
The journey back to the estate was suffocatingly quiet.
Norah shivered inside the passenger seat. Her damp clothes were cold against her body.
She had watched Roman dismantle 3 armed men with nothing except his name and presence.
The size of his power frightened her.
What it meant for her frightened her more.
Norah understood the rules of men like Roman.
They did not offer favors.
They made investments.
By the time the SUV passed through the estate gates, the storm had ended. Heavy fog rested over the grounds.
Roman stopped the engine but did not leave.
The dashboard cast a dim, clinical light across his features.
“Thank you,” Norah said toward the windshield. “I’ll repay every cent. I can work extra shifts. I’ll clean—”
“Stop speaking.”
Her mouth closed so quickly that her teeth touched.
Roman removed his seat belt and turned fully toward her.
His hand captured her chin.
He made her face him.
His amber gaze stripped through the polite, invisible identity she had spent 8 months creating.
“You aren’t repaying me.”
His thumb passed possessively over her lower lip.
“You don’t have $5,000. You don’t have another place to go, and you’re finished cleaning my floors.”
Panic entered her chest.
“Mr. Moretti, please. I need this employment. I won’t cause further trouble.”
“You misunderstand.”
Roman leaned closer.
The heat of his body became a weight against her side.
“You haven’t been dismissed. You’re being moved.”
He released her chin, collected the keys, and left the SUV.
Norah followed, her boots entering the puddles across the cobblestone drive.
She expected him to approach the main entrance.
Instead, he passed the oak doors and walked toward the private east wing.
“Where are we going?”
Her mind produced a dozen possible explanations, none of them reassuring.
Roman did not answer.
He unlocked a mahogany door and pushed it open.
Beyond it was a vast bedroom.
A king-sized bed covered in dark silk dominated the room. A low fire burned inside a marble fireplace, sending long shadows across the paneled walls.
Roman turned in the doorway.
“You don’t live above the garage anymore.”
Norah stood on the Persian rug, dripping rainwater onto the expensive wool.
Roman looked down at her without revealing anything.
“You live here.”
Norah stared at him.
“You’ll eat in the main dining room,” Roman continued. “You’ll sleep in this bed. You won’t wear that uniform again.”
Her chest moved in quick, shallow breaths.
She was cynical by nature.
She did not believe in fairy tales, and she did not believe in the kindness of mafia dons.
“Why?”
The question broke through the respectful limits she had maintained since entering the estate.
Anger began burning through the fear.
“Why are you doing this? You don’t know me. I’m a maid. There are hundreds of people who work for you.”
Her voice rose.
“Why me?”
Roman entered and closed the door.
The sound was solid and final.
He crossed the distance with the same alarming speed he had used inside the library.
He forced her back against a heavy velvet chair and enclosed her with his body.
“Because I watched you.”
His control fractured.
Beneath it was a consuming obsession that had been present long before she knew to look for it.
Roman seized her waist and brought her against his chest.
“For 8 months, I watched you keep your eyes lowered. I watched you pretend not to exist. I watched every man in this house pass you as though you belonged to the walls.”
His voice became rougher.
“But I saw you.”
Norah placed both hands against his chest and attempted to hold him away.
It was like pressing against stone.
Her heart beat frantically beneath her ribs.
“I saw the way you stopped breathing whenever I entered a room. I saw the anger you worked so hard to conceal.”
Understanding settled heavily inside her.
“You purchased my brother’s debt.”
She looked up at him.
“You didn’t do it to save him. You did it to trap me.”
“I did it to own your problems.”
Roman’s hand moved to her face, keeping her attention fixed on him.
“Because if I own your problems, Norah, I own you.”
The words were harsh and certain.
“No one touches what is mine. Not Sullivan, not your reckless brother, and not the cruelty of this world.”
He rested his forehead against hers.
Their breathing mixed.
The absolute confidence in his voice bypassed her reasoning and reached the bruised, exhausted center of her.
Norah had spent her life struggling to survive.
She had worked, saved, endured, and carried every responsibility alone.
Roman stood before her, violently removing that burden and replacing it with the heavy restraints of his protection.
“You’re insane,” she whispered.
A tear moved down her cold cheek.
Roman caught it with his thumb and spread the moisture across her skin.
“Probably.”
His hands moved gently through her hair.
“But you’re safe, Norah.”
His voice remained low.
“You’ll never be cold. You’ll never be hungry. And you’ll never be invisible again.”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“You are completely seen.”
His hold tightened around her.
“By me.”
Norah looked into the eyes of a predator.
Gradually, the resistance left her body.
She was a realist.
She understood that escape was impossible. Roman controlled the estate, the city, and likely every road she could have used to leave.
She could not fight him.
She was trapped.
Yet as his large, callused hands stroked her hair and held her securely against the solid warmth of his chest, a dangerous and treacherous part of her understood that she did not want the door to open.
The cage had closed.
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The key was gone.
God help her, the monster waiting in the darkness was exactly what she had been searching for.
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