تسجيل الدخول"I don't want a large wedding."I leaned back against the plush velvet of Roman’s sofa, the Sunday morning sun cutting through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his apartment. The light caught the steam rising from my tea, swirling in golden patterns. It was quiet, the kind of silence that usually preceded a storm in our world, but today, it just felt like peace. I watched Roman across from me. He was dressed down in a soft cashmere sweater, his dark hair still slightly messy from sleep. He looked less like a titan of industry and more like the man who had spent the last hour reading the Sunday papers with his feet tucked near mine."Neither do I," he said. He didn't even hesitate. He didn't check a calendar or mention the potential fallout from the socialites who expected the event of the decade. He just looked at me, his dark eyes steady and certain."I want the people who were there through the difficult things," I said, my thumb tracing the rim of my porcelain cup. "The people wh
"You’re early."I stood on the terrace of the estate, the morning air crisp and tasting of damp earth and the expensive cedar mulch the gardeners had laid out at dawn. Dante was leaning against the stone railing, his dark suit perfectly tailored, looking as if he’d been carved from the same granite as the house. He didn't check his watch. He didn't look at his phone. He just watched me walk toward him, his expression the same unreadable mask he’d worn for as long as I’d known him. He was the anchor in my storm, the man who had seen every version of me, the broken, the defiant, and the reborn."I have something for you," he said, pushing off the railing.He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular package wrapped in plain white paper. No ribbons. No card. That wasn't Dante’s style. He didn't deal in fluff or filler. Every move he made was surgical, designed for maximum impact with minimum noise. He handed it to me, his fingers brushing mine for a brief s
"To Roman Ashford, who finally figured out what was important."Felix stood in the center of his study, the silhouette of his tall frame framed by rows of leather-bound books that smelled of old paper and expensive tobacco. He held a crystal tumbler filled with a whiskey that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. The amber liquid caught the light of the fireplace, glowing like a small, captured star. There were only six of us in the room, six people who had actually stood by me when the headlines were ugly and the stock prices were plummeting. Felix didn't do grand gestures for the public; he did them for the people who mattered."It only took him four years and one very patient woman," Felix added, a wicked glint in his eye.The room erupted in laughter. I felt the heat crawl up my neck, a rare flush of genuine embarrassment mixed with a strange sense of relief. In this room, I wasn't the shark. I wasn't the billionaire legacy. I was just a man who had spent a lot of ti
"They’re calling it a reconciliation, Roman."Dante’s voice was dry, the sound of a man who had spent three hours fielding calls from every major news outlet in the country. I leaned back in my office chair, the leather creaking under my weight. On the mahogany surface in front of me, three different tablets were active. The announcement had landed like a guided missile. The impact was massive, the debris scattering across social media with a speed that even I hadn't fully anticipated.Most of the coverage was exactly what I expected. They were framing it as a return to form. *The Knight and Hayes Merger 2.0*, one headline screamed. They were ignoring the carefully crafted sentences we had sent out. They wanted the drama of a broken thing being glued back together."Let them frame it however they want," I said, my eyes tracking a piece that tried to guess the carat count of the ring. "We said what we had to say.""Some of them are actually getting close to the truth," Dante countered
"How do we tell them?"I didn't even take off my coat when I walked into Roman’s apartment. I was still in the wool wrap from the airport, the fabric carrying the faint scent of jet fuel and the perfume I’d sprayed in Milan. Roman was standing by the kitchen island, a half-empty espresso cup in his hand. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink, but his eyes were bright and fixed entirely on me. He looked like a man who had spent the night marvelling at the fact that his world hadn't ended."Your call," he said, setting the cup down. He didn't move toward me yet. He just watched me, giving me the space I needed. "Whatever you want, Sera. We can hire a skywriter or keep it between us forever.""Our call," I corrected, finally slipping the coat from my shoulders. I draped it over the back of a chair. "We’re doing this together. No more unilateral decisions."He smiled, a slow, genuine tilt of his lips. "You choose the method. I'll agree to anything that makes you comfortable.""A statement
"ON THE PLANE?"I hadn't even finished swiping the screen to answer before Louisa’s voice blasted through the speaker, vibrating against my ear. I shouldn't have been surprised. In the Montague family, secrets had the life expectancy of a snowflake in a furnace. I hadn’t even reached my car at the estate before the news had clearly bypassed the official channels and landed right in Louisa’s lap."Yes," I said, a helpless smile already tugging at my lips. I leaned against the cool leather of the car seat, bracing myself for the interrogation."WITHOUT THE RING?" she demanded. I could practically see her pacing her living room, phone gripped in one hand, gesturing wildly with the other. Louisa didn’t just process news; she lived it."He had the ring," I corrected her, my voice softening as my eyes drifted to the stone on my finger. The light caught the facets, sending a spray of white fire across the interior of the car. It was heavy, real, and undeniable."HE HAD THE RING THE WHOLE TIM
Sera arrived at seven with Dante and knew within ninety seconds that Roman was not yet in the room.She knew the way she had always known things about him, before the information reached her brain. The room felt like a room that had not yet changed. She greeted the hospital director at the entrance
Isabella came home at three thirty to find Roman in the sitting room with no lights on, and the notebook closed on the coffee table in front of him.She set her bag down. Looked at him. Looked at the notebook. "What is that?""Sit down," he said.She sat across from him with the careful posture of
Ada's message came through the internal system at two fourteen.*Roman Ashford in the lobby. No appointment. Says it's important.*Sera read it at her desk. She set her pen down. She looked at the message for four seconds. Then she picked her pen back up and went back to the document she had been r
Garrett arrived at nine with a folder he had not sent ahead.That was the first thing Roman noticed. Garrett sent documents in advance. Eleven years of working together, and the rule had never changed: a client should never be surprised in a meeting. The fact that he was carrying something Roman ha







