Mag-log inRoman's POV.The apartment smelled like her again. Vanilla and something softer, something that clung to her skin and the cushions she curled herself into. I dropped my keys on the counter, loosening my tie, and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.A month. That’s how long it had been since I last stood toe-to-toe with my father. Since the venom between us nearly burned through the air. Since I swore to myself I wouldn’t let him pull me back into his shadows again. One month, and I hadn’t regretted a single thing I’d done. Not walking away from his empire. Not cutting through his threats. Not even spitting his own sins back in his face.Because at the end of it, I had her.Ariana was sitting on the couch when I walked in, her legs curled under her, a loose shirt hanging from her shoulders. She was awake this time, eyes following the door the second I opened it. And God, she smiled. That stupid, disarming smile that tore right through every wall I had left.“You’re late,”
The apartment was quiet when I walked in. Not the heavy kind of quiet that drips with tension… but the kind that sinks into your bones, warm and almost tender.The lights in the living room were dim, a soft golden glow spilling from the lamp by the couch. And there she was.Ariana.She’d curled up sideways, her knees tucked in, one arm draped lazily over a throw pillow. Her hair was a little messy, strands fanned over her cheek, and her breathing was slow, deep, steady. She didn’t even stir when I closed the door.For a moment, I just stood there.God, after everything today—the argument with Mark, the venom, the threats—I thought I’d be too wound up to feel anything but rage. But looking at her now… that all slipped away.It’s strange, isn’t it? How one person can be your calm and your chaos at the same time.I walked closer, my steps slow, quiet. She had no idea how beautiful she looked like this. She didn’t have to try. No makeup. No pretense. Just Ariana. My Ariana. The same girl
Roman's POVThe call came back faster than I expected.“No one’s talking,” my contact said. “Nothing’s moving. No whispers, no loose ends. Whoever you’re worried about… they’re not making a play.”I leaned back in my chair, frowning. “You’re sure?”“As sure as I can be without breaking into confession booths. It’s quiet.”I hung up and stared at the phone in my hand. Quiet. That should’ve been a relief but it wasn’t.Mark hadn’t shown up tonight because there was a problem.He’d shown up to be the problem. . . . .To remind me of the dirt I’d buried for him. To twist the knife just enough to make sure I remembered whose fingerprints were on the handle.I cleaned up his mess. His kill. His greed. And yet here he was, standing in my kitchen like he owned the air I breathed.My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it.I grabbed my keys and phone, the decision hitting me before I’d even thought it through. If he wanted to get in my head, fine I’d make sure he saw exactly how little sp
Roman's POV.The kitchen smelled like garlic and butter.Ariana had been hovering beside me, passing me plates and making soft jokes that curled the corners of my mouth without me realizing.For the first time in days, I wasn’t thinking about the mess outside these walls.Then—three knocks.Not rushed. Not hesitant.Measured. Exact.I froze.Ariana looked at me. “Want me to—?”“No.” My voice was sharper than I meant it to be. “I’ll get it.”She stayed put while I wiped my hands and walked to the door. My steps felt heavier with each one. I already knew.When I opened it, there he was.Mark.Perfect suit, perfect tie, perfect mask of composure. His cologne—expensive, suffocating—hit first. His eyes, however, were the same as they’d always been: calculating, predatory, the kind that could strip you down to the bone without lifting a finger.> “Roman,” he said, with the kind of smoothness people mistake for charm. “We should talk.”“What do you want?” I didn’t step aside.> “Privately.”
Ariana's POVI didn’t even remember when I’d fallen asleep.One moment, I was curled up on the couch, Roman’s voice low in my ears… and the next, I was waking up to the faint hum of silence.Only, it wasn’t really silent.There was a sound—a soft, rhythmic sizzling. And an incredible smell.I blinked my eyes open, squinting at the dim light filtering through the curtains.This… wasn’t my bed.The sheets were cooler than they should’ve been, but they smelled like him—clean, masculine, and maddeningly warm. I sat up slowly, my hair a mess, my limbs heavy from sleep. My bare toes touched the wooden floor, and the faint aroma of something rich and savory drifted through the air again, pulling me out like a string around my finger.Following it, I padded down the hall, the scent growing stronger. Garlic. Butter. Something that made my stomach instantly growl.I turned the corner and froze.Roman was at the stove, sleeves rolled to his elbows, one hand gripping the pan handle, the other tos
Roman’s POVHer fingers brushed my jaw tender, like she didn’t know whether to hold me or let me fall apart and I did. In her hands.Something inside me broke wide open. All the fury, the guilt, the betrayal it bled through the cracks. I wasn't just angry anymore.I was shattered, But she didn’t move and She didn’t flinch.She just stood there, looking at me like I was still worth saving.My breath came out rough, shaky. I grabbed her wrist not hard, but firm just to make sure she wouldn’t pull away. My eyes locked onto hers, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I only knew I was drowning in everything I had tried to bury.“Ariana…” Her name broke in my throat.She blinked up at me, soft lips parted like she was about to whisper something something that would’ve destroyed me more.So I kissed her.I kissed her like it was the only way to survive.It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t calm. It was chaos and desperation colliding. My mouth crashed into hers as I pinned her back against th







