Her Ex Brought His Mistress to Humiliate Her, but the Mafia Boss Kissed Her Before Everyone and Took Everything He Had

Roman gestured for them to sit at a massive glass dining table. Within two minutes, a discreet waiter in a black jacket appeared, setting down a bottle of vintage scotch, three glasses, and a folder bound in thick black leather.

Sarah poured herself a liberal splash of scotch, took a sip, and sank into an armchair. "I’m staying right here," she declared. "If I’m dreaming, no one wake me up until morning."

Harper remained standing near the window, her hands clasped behind her back. "Before we discuss anything, Mr. Falco, I need to know your angle. Men like you don't step into public scandals out of chivalry. What is Connor to you?"

Roman poured himself two fingers of dark liquor, ignoring the ice. He walked over to stand near her, looking out at the city.

"Connor Hayes is nothing to me," Roman said calmly. "He is an ant on a sidewalk I intend to pave over. But his firm—Hayes & Sterling Investment Partners—happens to hold a fifteen percent stake in the riverfront logistics park my company is acquiring next month."

Harper’s mind clicked instantly into high gear. "The North River District development project. It’s a four-billion-dollar municipal build."

"Precisely," Roman acknowledged, a flash of genuine respect in his dark eyes. "Connor thinks he holds a leverage card. He’s been stalling the buyout negotiations, trying to force Falco Holdings to pay an inflated premium so he can make senior partner before the end of the quarter. He’s using your former shared accounts and his firm’s capital reserves to leverage his position."

Harper turned to face him, her heart accelerating. "He used our joint credit line?"

"He leveraged every penny he could touch," Roman said, stepping toward the table and flipping open the black folder. He gestured for her to look. "Including the three hundred thousand dollars you deposited into the joint house trust two weeks before he ended your engagement."

Harper felt a sudden, sickening drop in her stomach. She leaned over the table, scanning the financial ledger sheets inside the folder. The numbers were clear, stark, and horrifying.

Connor hadn't just ended their relationship; he had quietly siphoned her personal savings from their joint trust to cover a margin call on his firm’s riverfront acquisition fund. He had used her money to finance the very leverage he was trying to exert against Roman.

"He stole from me," Harper breathed, her hands clutching the edge of the glass table. "He committed civil conversion and wire fraud."

"He did," Roman agreed softly, standing right beside her, his warm scent of cedar and tobacco enveloping her senses. "And because you are a corporate attorney at Davies, Croft and Mercer, you know that filing a civil suit against him will take eighteen months, burn through your legal fees, and give him time to hide the funds offshore."

"So what do you propose?" Harper asked, looking up into his eyes.

"I propose we don't sue him," Roman said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, rhythmic murmur. "I propose we destroy his firm, strip him of his securities license, freeze his assets, and force him to hand over the riverfront equity to me for pennies on the dollar. You get your three hundred thousand dollars back—with interest—and he leaves this city with nothing but the clothes on his back and the girl in the borrowed dress."

Harper stared at the documents, her litigator’s brain running through the probabilities. "You need me to bypass the client-privilege firewall at his firm."

"No," Roman corrected instantly, his tone firm. "I will never ask you to compromise your ethical code or your legal standing, Harper. I know where the boundaries are. I don't need you to break the law. I need you to act as my lead legal counsel on the North River acquisition."

Harper blinked. "What?"

"Davies, Croft and Mercer is one of the firms representing the city," Roman explained, leaning back against the edge of the table. "If you take the lead on my transaction team, you will have direct, legal access to every financial audit Hayes & Sterling submits. When Connor realizes that the woman he humiliated is sitting across the table holding the keys to his firm’s survival... he will make a mistake. Men like Connor always make mistakes when their arrogance is threatened."

Sarah let out a low whistle from the armchair. "That is terrifyingly brilliant."

Harper walked back to the window, staring out at the glowing lights of the city. Her mind was a battlefield between her cautious, professional training and a deep, visceral demand for justice. Connor had taken her dignity, her money, her trust, and her private vulnerabilities, laying them out like trophies for Chicago's elite to mock.

She turned back to Roman Falco. He was watching her patiently, making no effort to push her, entirely confident in his position.

"If I do this," Harper said, her voice turning as sharp as a diamond, "I want full control over the legal strategy. You don't execute a move without my green light."

"Agreed," Roman said without hesitation.

"And second," Harper added, taking a step toward him, "that kiss downstairs... people are going to talk. The press will cover it by midnight. How do we explain us?"

Roman walked over to her, stopping mere inches away. He reached out, his long fingers gently catching a stray lock of dark hair that had fallen near her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. His touch sent a shiver straight down her spine.

"We don't explain anything, Harper," Roman whispered, his dark eyes burning into hers. "We let them speculate. Let Connor Hayes spend every waking second wondering if the most dangerous man in Chicago is sleeping in his ex-fiancée's bed. Fear is a much better strategist than revenge."

Harper felt her breath hitch. "And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Sleeping in my bed?"