Page 27 of Forbidden Daddy


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"We need to talk," I said, closing the door behind me with more force than necessary.

He didn’t look up from the papers scattered across his desk. "About what?"

"About the fact that you’re planning to go to war. About the fact that someone in your inner circle wants you dead. About the fact that I’m apparently caught in the middle of a mafia power struggle."

That got his attention. Those blue eyes snapped to mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker across his features—surprise, maybe, that I’d connected the dots so quickly.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Don’t I?" I stepped closer, anger making me brave. "Marina. Anton’s sister. The meeting is in forty hours. Should I keep going?"

Roman’s jaw clenched. "You were supposed to stay at the table."

"And you were supposed to be honest with me." The words burst out of me before I could stop them. "I don’t want any part of this life, Roman. I can’t do this."

He stood, moving around the desk gracefully. "You think I wanted this? You think I chose to inherit an empire built on blood and fear?"

The raw pain in his voice stopped me cold. For a moment, the mask slipped, and I saw the man beneath the monster—someone who was just as trapped as I was.

"Then why don’t you walk away?" I asked quietly.

"Because walking away gets people killed." His hands fisted at his sides. "Because the moment I show weakness, every rival family in the city will move in for the kill. Because there are twelve people living in this house who depend on me to keep them alive."

"And me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Where do I fit in your war?"

Roman stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with something darker—stress, maybe, or the weight of carrying an empire on his shoulders. "You don’t understand how dangerous this has become, Cassie. I can’t letyou leave. Not now. Not when someone knows exactly how to hurt me."

"By hurting me," I said, the pieces clicking into place.

"By destroying everything I care about." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your life is at stake now. The moment you becamemine, you became a target."

The possessive way he said "mine" sent electricity straight down my spine, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted. Not when he was essentially telling me that I was trapped.

"I need to be let go," I insisted, even though the words felt like sandpaper in my throat. "From the job, from this arrangement, from whatever this is between us. I need an out."

Roman stared at me for a long moment, and I watched him make some kind of internal calculation. When he spoke again, his voice was deadly calm.

"Come with me."

"Roman—"

"If you want to understand why you can’t leave, then you need to see what you’re really part of."

He led me through the house, past rooms I’d never seen before, down a staircase hidden behind what looked like a bookshelf in the library. The air grew cooler as we descended, and I realized we were going deep underground.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was steel, reinforced with enough locks to secure a bank vault. Roman punched in a code, pressed his thumb to a scanner, and the door swung open with a soft hiss.

What I saw inside made my blood run cold.

The room was massive, carved into the bedrock beneath the estate. Weapons lined the walls like a deadly museum—handguns, rifles, things I couldn’t even identify. Ammunition was stacked in military-grade containers. Communication equipment hummed softly in one corner.

This wasn’t just an armory. This was a war room.

"Jesus Christ," I breathed.

"Welcome to my world," Roman said, his voice carefully neutral. "This is what you’re asking to walk away from."

I forced myself to move deeper into the room, masking my unease with grit I didn’t know I possessed. If this was his attempt to scare me into submission, he’d picked the wrong woman.