Chapter 2

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it again the muffled moans, the creak of his bed, his voice, low and commanding. It clung to me like smoke, refusing to fade, and by morning my body felt wrung out, restless and raw.

Roman was six feet away. Six feet. And I hated that I knew it down to the exact measure.

By the time sunlight slipped through my curtains, I was already dressed. A baggy sweater, ripped jeans, hair pulled into a loose knot that screamed don’t look at me. I wanted to disappear, to shrink into nothing, but this house didn’t let you hide.

When I made it downstairs, the smell of bacon and fresh bread filled the air. Mom hovered at the stove, humming like this was all normal, like she hadn’t married us into a life where silence had weight and walls had ears.

“Morning, Ari,” she said brightly. “Eat something before stepping out.”

“I’m not hungry,” I lied, grabbing an apple just to avoid the look she gave me.

And then he walked in, Roman.

He didn’t hurry he never hurried but the whole room shifted when he entered. Black hoodie, sweatpants, damp hair like he’d just come from the shower. He didn’t glance at me at first. Just poured coffee, leaned against the counter, and sipped like he owned the air we breathed.

When his eyes finally cut to mine, it felt my heart skipped a beat and i immediately looked away first, Of course I did.

“You could at least say hi,” Mom said, like she’d been through this before.

“Hi,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off me It wasn’t a greeting. It was more like a challenge.

I gripped the apple tighter. My palms felt sweaty against the skin. Mom sighed, oblivious to the sparks ricocheting across the kitchen. “You two will figure it out. You’re family now.”

The word family landed like a punch in my stomach, Family huh.

Roman smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging up slow. “Yeah,” he said softly, voice smooth as sin. “Family.”

I shoved the apple into my bag and headed for the door, heat crawling up my neck.

But just as I reached it, his voice followed, low enough only I could hear.

“Careful, Ari. Thin walls.” I froze, pulse slamming through me.

When I turned, he was still leaning against the counter, casual as hell, sipping his coffee like he hadn’t just gutted me with two words. I walked out before my face betrayed me.

The morning air was sharp and cold, but it did nothing to settle the fire under my skin. He knew I’d heard. He wanted me to know he knew. And worse he wasn’t sorry.

I made it to the front door before I felt him behind me. His presence was impossible to miss warm, heavy, taking up all the air.

“You always run away this fast?” Roman’s voice slid past my ear.

I tightened my grip on the doorknob. “I’m not running.”

“Mm.” He was close now. Too close. “Looked like running to me.”

I turned, just enough to see him leaning lazily against the doorframe, but his eyes weren’t lazy at all. They pinned me in place, sharp and unblinking.

“Don’t worry,” he said, smirk tugging at his mouth. “I won’t tell Mom you like to eavesdrop.”

My stomach dropped. Heat rushed to my face. “I wasn’t. . .”

He stepped in, cutting off my denial, his shoulder brushing mine as he reached past me to rest his hand on the door. My breath caught, the apple in my bag digging into my palm from how hard I was gripping it.

Roman bent slightly, his mouth near my ear, his words a whisper made for no one else.

“Next time… knock.”

My heart lurched. My whole body did.

Then he pulled back, eyes glittering like he enjoyed every second of my unraveling. With one final glance, he pushed the door open and walked out first, leaving me standing there, breathless, humiliated, and God help me aching.

The library didn’t quiet my thoughts the way I hoped it would. I spent hours staring at words that wouldn’t stick, my pen tapping restlessly against the page. Every time I tried to focus, I heard her voice again, moaning his name, desperate and breathless.

By the time I dragged myself home, the sky had gone dark. The house glowed like a lantern, soft and warm, but the moment I stepped inside I felt it that heaviness. Him.

Roman sat on the couch, sprawled out like the place belonged to him. One arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other flipping through channels on the TV. He didn’t even look at me when he said, “Late night at the library?”

My stomach flipped. He knew where I’d been.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” I muttered, dropping my bag by the stairs.

He smirked, finally turning his head. His hair was still damp, his shirt clinging to his chest like he’d just worked out. “Relax, princess. Didn’t know reading was such a dirty secret.”

I crossed my arms, heat crawling up my neck. “Don’t call me that.”

Roman’s eyes lingered on me, unbothered, unflinching. “What? Princess? Fits you.” His voice dipped, low and deliberate. “A little too perfect. A little too breakable.”

I swallowed hard, hating the way my skin tingled under his words. “You don’t know me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The shadows deepened around his face, making him look sharper, darker. “Maybe not. But I know what you sound like when you’re outside my door, listening.”

My blood turned to ice.

My throat worked, but no words came out. He stood slowly, closing the space between us with easy, unhurried steps. My pulse pounded so hard it hurt.

Roman stopped just inches away, close enough that I caught the faint scent of soap on his skin. He tilted his head, eyes scanning mine like he could see everything I was trying to hide.

“You want to play innocent?” His voice was quiet, lethal. “Then stop standing outside my room.”

The air between us crackled. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

And then, just like that, he stepped back. His smirk returned, casual and cruel. “Goodnight, Ariana”

He walked past me, brushing my shoulder just slightly as he went upstairs.

I stood frozen in the hallway, my heart racing, my skin on fire.

I told myself I hated him. That he was cruel, arrogant, impossible.

But all I could think about was the way his voice had wrapped around me like a hand at my throat, daring me not to break.