Chapter 4: Three Years Ago

Nina's POV

"Roman! I am counting to three!" Victoria’s sharp voice barked from behind the door.

My brain completely short-circuited. Hearing that cold, aristocratic voice was like being thrown into a freezing lake. Three years vanished in a single second, and suddenly I wasn't in this luxury bridal suite anymore. I was back in Queens.

Back in a tiny, drafty one-bedroom apartment that smelled of engine oil and cinnamon tea.

---

"You're late," I had told him three years ago, leaning against the damp brick wall outside the NYU library while rain poured off the metal awning.

Roman had jogged up the steps, pulling off a wet leather jacket. His knuckles were bruised, his t-shirt was stained with grease, and his hair was sticking to his forehead. He looked like trouble with a capital T.

"Shop boss kept me late," Roman had panted, standing right in front of me. "I brought you a bagel."

"It's squished," I said, looking at the brown paper bag in his hand.

"It's food," he countered, a slow grin spreading across his face. "And I walked twelve blocks in the rain to get it. That means you have to go out with me."

"That was day fourteen of you asking, Roman," I sighed, though my stomach did a tiny, embarrassing flip. "I told you. I don't date guys who look like they steal motorcycles for a living."

"It’s a vintage Honda," he laughed, taking my books out of my arms so I wouldn't have to carry them. "And I don't steal them. I fix them. Come on, Nina. One dinner. Two-dollar pizza slices. If you hate it, I’ll never bother you again."

I had looked into his dark, ridiculous eyes and given up. "Fine. One dinner."

One dinner turned into six months. Six months turned into moving my two suitcases into his tiny third-floor walk-up.

We didn't have money. We had a mattress on the floor, a squeaky fan that only worked on low, and a stolen milk crate for a coffee table. But I had never been happier in my entire life.

"Why haven't I met your family yet?" Roman had asked one night, lying beside me on the mattress, his thumb tracing the shape of my collarbone.

"Because my mom is a monster," I whispered, turning my face into his neck. "And my sister is too busy with work. If Mom saw you, she'd inspect your boots, ask for your credit score, and tell me I'm throwing my life away."

"I'm working on things, Nina," he had said quietly, his voice unusually serious in the dark. "I'm gonna build something big. For us."

"I don't care about big things," I told him, wrapping my arms tight around his waist. "I just care about you, Roman Vance."

---

"Roman!" Victoria’s voice blasted through the heavy mahogany door, shattering the memory into a thousand pieces. "Unlock this door right now!"

"Fix your collar!" I hissed, snapping back to reality with a violent shudder.

I grabbed Roman by the front of his shirt, shoving him backward into the shadow of the closet nook. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely button his white dress shirt.

"Nina, stop," Roman rasped, catching my wrists in his grip. "Look at me."

"No! Wipe your face!" I panicked, taking my thumb and aggressively smearing a smudge of my red lipstick off his jawline. "There's lipstick on your neck! You look like you just got jumped in an alley!"

"Let her knock," Roman gritted out, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Let her walk in. I don't care."

"Well, I care!" I whispered angrily, throwing his jacket onto his shoulders. "My sister just got married to your brother! If your mother sees me in here with you with my dress wrinkled and your shirt unbuttoned, she will destroy my family! She’ll ruin Amelia’s wedding!"

"Nina—"

"Hide!" I pointed frantically to the deep walk-in closet behind the dressing mirror. "Get in there!"

"I am not hiding in a closet like a coward," Roman said flatly.

"Please," I choked out, tears of sheer panic welling in my eyes. "Roman, please. Just leave first. Let me fix myself."

Roman stared at me for three agonizing seconds. He let out a low, bitter curse, reached out, and cupped my jaw, pressing his thumb against my bottom lip.

"This isn't over," he growled.

He turned on his heel, unlocked the heavy door, and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him just enough so I was hidden in the room.

"What were you doing in there?" I heard Victoria ask sharply from the corridor.

"Taking a private phone call from the London office," Roman lied smoothly, his voice instantly turning cold and distant. "What do you want, Mother?"

"Lord Harrington and his family are waiting near the fountain," Victoria snapped. "Julianna has been asking about you all evening. Don't embarrass me. Come down right now."

"Fine," Roman grunted.

Their footsteps echoed down the marble hallway until the noise completely faded away.

I collapsed against the vanity table, my legs giving out. I took three deep, shaky breaths, trying to stop my heart from hammering against my ribs. I looked in the mirror and nearly gasped. My hair was a messy nest, my eyeliner was smudged, and my lips were swollen and bright red.

"Get it together, Nina," I whispered to my reflection. "Just get through tonight."

I grabbed a tissue, wiped away the ruined lipstick, pulled my hair back into a tight, slick knot, and smoothed down the wrinkles on my emerald silk dress. I squeezed my eyes shut, took a massive breath, and unlocked the door.

I walked down the grand spiral staircase, keeping my head high and my shoulders back. The ballroom was packed. Champagne glasses clinked, loud jazz played from the stage, and high-society laughter echoed off the gold-leaf ceilings.

I scanned the room, looking for Amelia or Mom.

Instead, my eyes landed on the massive marble fountain near the center of the room.

And my heart sank straight into the floor.

Roman was standing under the warm glow of the chandelier. He looked completely put together—his bowtie straightened, his hair combed back, his dark suit flawless.

And standing right beside him was a woman.

She was breathtaking. Tall, slim, wearing a shimmering silver floor-length gown that probably cost more than my entire college tuition. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves down her back, and she was laughing softly, her hand rested comfortably on Roman’s forearm.

Roman didn't pull away. In fact, his fingers were wrapped lightly around her hand, holding it right in front of everyone.

Victoria Blake stood next to them, holding a glass of champagne, talking loudly to an older couple in expensive tuxedos.

"Oh, look at them!" Victoria practically purred, her voice carrying easily over the jazz music. "Aren't they just absolute perfection together? I've been telling Lord Harrington for months that Roman and Julianna belong together!"

"They really do make a gorgeous couple," the older woman agreed, beaming. "When is the announcement?"

"Soon, hopefully!" Victoria laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Roman’s been in London for three years, but now that he's back in New York, we can finally focus on what matters."

I stood frozen near the edge of the stairs, the air completely knocked out of my lungs.

Across the busy floor, as if he felt my eyes on him, Roman turned his head.

His dark gaze locked directly onto mine.

He didn't drop the blonde girl's hand. He didn't move away from her. He just stood there, holding her fingers, watching me from across the room with a cold, unreadable expression.

"Nina!" Amelia’s voice popped up beside me, pulling me out of my trance. She grabbed my arm, totally unaware. "There you are! Where have you been? Come on, Mom wants us to do the bouquet toss!"

"Amelia..." I whispered, my voice completely trembling as I stared at Roman across the crowd. "Who... who is that with Roman?"

Amelia looked over toward the fountain and sighed softly. "Oh. That’s Julianna Harrington. Mom says Roman’s mother has been trying to arrange a marriage between them since last year. Pretty crazy, right?"