Chapter 6: Shadows in the East Wing

The small floor sketch Zane had slipped into my coat pocket felt like it was burning against my skin all evening.

I waited in the dark until midnight.

Midnight was the shift change—the two-minute window when the two guards in the hallway rotated and the security cameras swept left instead of right. I had timed it three times from the narrow window of my bathroom. My heart hammered against my chest before I even touched the brass door handle.

The soft slippers I had worn made no sound on the white marble floor. I kept close to the dark shadows along the wall, counting the doors the way Zane ’s rough drawing showed me. Left past the tall painting gallery. Right at the marble bust. Third door on the left—Roman’s private study.

The lock was electronic. Zane had somehow known the temporary pass code. My hands shook so badly I had to enter the numbers twice.

Click.

The door opened slowly.

The room smelled like Roman—expensive dark wood, rich leather, and the crisp cologne that never quite covered the cold atmosphere he carried with him. Moonlight poured through the tall windows, turning the polished oak desk into a slab of silver.

I moved fast, pulling open drawers, feeling along the dark wood underneath for the false compartment Zane had described.

Top drawer. Left side. I felt a tiny seam, almost invisible unless someone knew where to look.

My fingers pressed the hidden release.

A sleek silver hard drive sat in a velvet-lined hollow like a jewel. For one dizzy second, I just stared at it. This tiny piece of metal was supposed to be my ticket off the island. My way back to Aiden. My way back to a normal life.

I closed my hand tight around the cold drive.

Suddenly, loud emergency sirens exploded through the entire estate.

Red lights flashed across the walls. A mechanical voice barked orders over the intercom. My blood turned completely to cold. I shoved the drive into the pocket of my dress and bolted.

I ran the way Zane had told me—through the connecting library, down the narrow service stairs, toward the glass conservatory where the doors opened onto the garden. My bare feet slapped against stone. Behind me, men were shouting. Heavy boots thundered.

I burst through the conservatory doors—and stopped dead in my tracks.

Zane was already there.

So was Roman.

A dozen guards surrounded the glass room with their weapons drawn. Zane stood in the middle of the black-and-white tiled floor, that same smile on his lips even though two guards held him at gunpoint. His shirt was open at the throat, dark hair slightly messy, as if he had been running too. Or as if he had planned to look exactly like this when he was caught.

Roman stood across from him, completely calm. His hands were tucked casually into his black pants pockets. No jacket. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The red emergency lights flashed across his face, making his pale ice-blue eyes look almost black.

He didn’t look at Zane first. He looked straight at me.

She went to him, the thought burned through Roman’s mind as his gaze locked onto mine. She planned this with another man behind my back.

“You always were predictable, Zane ,” Roman said, his deep voice dropping into pure malice. “Using an innocent girl to do your dirty work.”

Zane ’s smile got wider. He glanced at me, eyes glittering. “Innocent? She’s your prisoner, Roman. You’re a monster who steals women to fix your broken family legacy. At least I am honest about what I want.”

Roman stepped forward.

I tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. In two long strides, Roman reached me. His strong arm locked around my waist like a steel band, pulling my body hard against his. His other hand plunged into my pocket, pulling out the hard drive without any effort at all. He tossed it to his waiting assistant without even looking at it.

The loss of it felt like having a limb cut off.

“Take Mr. Rainer off my island,” Roman commanded, his voice terrifyingly calm as he looked down at me. “If he steps foot on St. Jude’s again, shoot him on sight. No warnings.”

The guards moved instantly. Zane didn’t fight back. He only looked at me one last time as they dragged him toward the outer doors.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sunny,” Zane called over his shoulder. “One way or another.”

Then he was gone.

The room fell into heavy, ringing silence, broken only by the distant sound of the sirens being shut off.

Roman’s arm was still locked around my waist. I could feel the cold fury vibrating through his whole body. When he finally spoke, his mouth was so close to my ear that his breath stirred my hair.

“And as for you…”

He turned me roughly in his arms until I was forced to face him. His large hand came up, gripping my jaw hard, tilting my face up to his. The flashing red lights painted half his face in blood-colored shadow.

“Your movement is now strictly confined to the main villa building,” Roman said, each word precise and cold. “No courtyard. No balcony. No conservatory. You will not see the open sky again until you give me what I want, vk which is carry my heir.”

My throat closed. I tried to wrench my face away, but his fingers only tightened until it hurt.

“You went to him,” Roman whispered, his cold breath brushing my skin. “You took his little map. You crept into my study like a thief. Did you think I wouldn’t know the second you left your room? Did you think Zane Rainer was the first man who ever tried to use one of my things against me?”

One of my things.

The words landed like a physical slap to my face.

“I am not your thing,” I whispered, hating how small and weak my voice sounded.

Roman’s thumb pressed hard against my lower lip. “You became my thing the moment you were delivered to me,” he said softly. “Everything you do only proves how tightly I need to hold you.”

He released my jaw, but his arm stayed locked around my waist as he walked me back through the darkened halls of the main villa. Every window we passed was already being shuttered from the outside by silent staff.

When we reached my room in the west wing, the door was already standing open. Roman walked me inside and kicked the door shut behind us.

This time he did not leave immediately.

He pushed me back against the heavy wooden door, blocking out the light of the room with his broad frame. He trapped my wrists against the wood above my head with one large hand, leaning in until there wasn't a single inch of space between us.

“You planned an escape with another man,” he said, his voice low and cruel. “You trusted him more than you fear me.”

“I just wanted to leave—”

“Quiet.” His free hand caught my jaw, forcing me to look directly into his terrifying, dark eyes. “This is what happens when you forget who rules this island. You don't get choices, Sunny. You don't get allies.”

“I hate you,” I sobbed, twisting against his iron grip, but my physical strength was completely useless against him.

“Hate me all you want,” Roman whispered, his face inches from mine. “It changes nothing. Every breath you take on this island belongs to me. From this night on, you don't take a single step without my permission.”

He held me trapped against the door for a long, suffocating moment, letting the full weight of his authority sink in until my trembling body finally stopped fighting.

Slowly, he released my wrists and stepped back, looking down at my tear-stained face.

“Sleep while you can,” Roman commanded coldly, adjusting his cuffs. “Tomorrow the doctor Garrick increase your physical monitoring. The earliest you carry my child the better for you.”

He turned, stepped into the corridor, and locked the door behind him with a final, heavy click.

I sank onto the cold floor, pulling my knees to my chest, staring at the locked door as the dark silence of the room closed in around me.