Chapter 6 - The True LedgerTwo hours later, the estate was quiet once more.
The police and federal agents had hauled Vincent Costa and Marcus Archer away in handcuffs, dismantling the internal corruption that had poisoned the Costa empire for five years. The forged debt ledgers had been officially seized as federal evidence, clearing my father’s name once and for all and restoring our family’s honor.
The grand kitchen was empty of catering staff and guards. The air smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant and espresso.
I stood by the counter, wiping down the stainless-steel surface with a clean cloth, just as I had done a thousand times before.
Footsteps echoed softly on the tile floor.
I didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Roman walked into the kitchen, his suit jacket discarded, his white shirt collar open, and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked tired, but the dark, dangerous tension that had defined him for two years was entirely gone.
He stopped a few feet away from me.
"You don't have to clean that anymore, Norah," Roman said quietly.
I stopped wiping the counter and turned to face him. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm still an employee of the estate, aren't I?"
Roman shook his head slowly. He walked closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out, gently taking the cleaning cloth from my hand and tossing it onto the counter.
"You were never an employee," Roman said, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register that made my heart race. "You were a hostage of a lie I was too blind to see through. Your father’s debt is erased. The estate is yours as much as mine. You can leave whenever you want."
I looked up into his pale, intense eyes—eyes that had terrified me for two years, but which now held a raw, vulnerable devotion meant only for me.
"And if I don't want to leave?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
A slow, brilliant smile touched the corners of Roman’s mouth—a rare expression that made him look breathtakingly handsome.
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"Then," Roman murmured, wrapping his arms securely around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest, "you're going to have to get used to a lot more jealousy. Because I am never letting you call another man handsome as long as you live."
I laughed—a real, uninhibited laugh that filled the quiet kitchen—and wrapped my arms around his neck, finally letting myself fall into the arms of the man who had burned down his own empire just to keep me safe.
