Semua Bab Is It Wrong I Want Daddy So Bad? : Bab 191 - Bab 200

Roman The building feels different walking into it this afternoon. Same glass, same marble, same security nodding me through like any other day, but I can feel it in the air before I even reach the elevators. The way people’s eyes drop half a second too fast. The way conversations stop when I pass. Marcus falls into step beside me, phone already in hand. “Statement’s out,” he says. “Buys us the forty eight hours you wanted. Barely.” “Good.” I press the button for the top floor. “I want a press conference after this meeting.” He glances at me. “Tonight?” “Tonight. Get everything set up. Podium, cameras, the works. I want it ready the moment I walk out of that room.” “Roman, we haven’t even agreed on what you’re going to say.” “I know what I’m going to say.” The doors open. “Just get it set up.” He nods, then hesitates, phone still in hand. “Where’s Raven right now?” I ask. “Security had eyes on her.” I check my watch. “Last I heard, she left the estate on fo

RavenI walk into the quiet house and find Roman in the bar just off the main hall. He’s pouring himself a glass of whisky, still wearing the shirt from the press conference. His tie hangs loose around his neck, and his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, like he stripped off the armor the moment he stepped through his own front door.He pauses when he hears me, but he doesn’t turn around immediately.“Did you really mean everything you said out there?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.He finally faces me, lifting the glass to his lips before taking a slow sip. His eyes never leave mine over the rim.“What do you think?”I swallow.“You gave up your company. On national television. For me.”“I gave up a title.” His thumb traces the side of the glass. “I would’ve given up considerably more than that.”God.My eyes sting, tears rushing up so fast I can’t stop them. Not from heartbreak this time, but from the overwhelming realization that I have this man. A man who

RavenRoman stands in front of the mirror in the dressing room, methodically strapping his holster into place beneath his jacket, in a way that tells me he’s done this more times than I’ll ever know. His phone is pressed between his shoulder and his ear.with cleaner punctuation and dialogue:“We move before midnight,” he says into the phone, his voice flat and certain. “Not a minute later. Gerald’s people rotate shifts at twelve fifteen, and I want us inside before that window closes.” He pauses, listening. “Get the lineups ready. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”He ends the call and slides the phone into his pocket, checking his reflection one last time, and that’s when he sees me in the doorway.I watch his eyes move over me, the leather jacket, the fitted holster strapped along my thigh, the look of a woman who has stopped waiting to be protected and started preparing to fight.“I’m coming with you,” I say.“No.”“Roman…”“It’s far too dangerous, Raven.” He turns to face me

Raven “I watched you slaughter your own flesh and blood out of greed and pure evil.” Roman says. “Even wild animals protect their young, yet you butchered your own family without a shred of remorse.”Roman’s voice remains eerily calm, but every word lands like a blade.“It took nothing short of divine intervention for me to get out of that house alive with her. From that night on, everything I did, every lie I told, every smile I forced, every step I took toward you, had only one purpose.”He takes another step closer.“To make you pay.”His jaw tightens, years of restrained hatred flickering across his face.“Do you have any idea how difficult it was pretending to be your friend? Sitting across from you, listening to you talk, shaking your hand… when all I wanted was to drive a knife through your heart and watch you bleed for what you did?”“And you think I’m the one who’s going down tonight?” Gerald asks, not a trace of remorse in his voice. “You’re the one who’s going to d

RavenThe cemetery is nearly empty when we arrive.I count exactly three figures standing beside the open grave. A priest, prayer book open in his hands, waiting for a congregation that never came. Vivienne, dressed in black, veil pulled low over her face. And beside her, Aria, chin lifted, arms crossed in that same practiced superiority she’s worn every time she’s looked at me.That’s all. Three people.No soldiers. No allies. No members of the Diamond Club Gerald swore would bury Roman alive for this. Not one of the men who spent decades shaking his hand and calling him a friend bothered to show up and watch him lowered into the ground.I stare at the empty rows of folding chairs set up for a funeral nobody attended.Gerald Cole commanded armies. Men feared his name in rooms he never even entered. And in the end, this is what’s left of him. Three people and a hole in the ground, in a corner of the cemetery reserved for people nobody fights to remember.I don’t know if this is justic