Page 26 of Forbidden Daddy


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Roman returned ten minutes later, slipping back into his seat beside me like nothing had happened. But I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes kept moving to scan the crowd. He was planning something. Something dangerous.

"Everything alright?" I asked quietly.

"Fine," he said, though his hand found mine under the table, fingers interlacing with almost desperate pressure. "Just business."

Business. Right. The kind of business that got people killed.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of forced smiles and polite conversation. I watched Roman work the room with renewed understanding, seeing how every interaction was calculated, every word carefully chosen. This wasn’t just a charity gala—it was a display of power. A reminder to everyone in attendance that the Creed name still commanded respect.

But I also saw the cracks. The way certain people made comments when they thought I wasn’t listening.

"The Creed name has ruled this city longer than banks."

"He’s risking it all on some girl in heels."

The hushed conversations stopped when he approached, but the subtle tension hummed beneath the surface of every interaction.

When we finally made our way to the exit, I caught even more fragments of conversation, but this one made my skin crawl. References to "settling old scores" and "cleaning house." Mentions of shipments and territories that had nothing to do with legitimate business.

By the time we were settled in the back of Roman’s car, my head was spinning with everything I’d learned. The partition between us and the driver was up, giving us privacy, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear whatever Roman was about to tell me.

"You followed me," he said without preamble, his voice carefully neutral.

I could’ve denied it. Should have. Instead, I met his gaze directly. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you looked like you were about to commit murder."

Something flickered across his features—surprise, maybe, or approval. "And what would you have done if I was?"

The question hung between us like a loaded gun. I thought about lying, about telling him I would’ve tried to stop him. But Roman had always been able to see right through me.

"I would’ve made sure you came home safe," I whispered.

The words seemed to hit him like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might tell me to get out of the car, out of his life, away from the violence that followed him like a shadow.

Instead, he reached for my hand.

"Someone close turned on me," he said, his voice raw with something I’d never heard before. Vulnerability. "Someone I trusted. And in forty-eight hours, I’m going to find out who."

His fingers tightened around mine, and I realized this wasn’t just him sharing information. This was him asking for something—trust, support, understanding. This was him letting me in despite every instinct that told him to keep me safe by keeping me in the dark.

"What do you need from me?" I asked.

"I need you to stay close. I need you to trust me. And I need you to understand that once you’re part of this world, there’s no going back."

My heart stumbled in my chest. Not because of fear, but because of the way he was looking at me. Like I wasn’t just surviving in his world anymore.

Like I was becoming part of it.

Like maybe, against all odds, I belonged here.

10

CASSIE

Ifound Roman in his study at dawn, standing behind his desk like a statue carved from granite and fury. The events of last night hung between us like smoke—the charity gala, the whispered conversations, the revelation that someone close to him was planning his destruction. And now I knew how deep this rabbit hole went.