"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means the betrayal goes deeper than I thought. It means someone’s been planning this for years." His grip tightened slightly. "It means you’re in more danger than ever."
The words should’ve terrified me. It should’ve sent me running for the door, demanding my old life back. Instead, all I felt was a fierce protectiveness that surprised me with its intensity.
"Then we deal with it," I said simply.
Something shifted in Roman’s expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. He studied my face like he was seeing me for the first time.
"We?" he asked.
"You and me. Together. Isn’t that what partners do?"
The word hung between us, loaded with implications neither of us was ready to examine. But Roman’s eyes darkened with something that looked like approval, and when he leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, I could feel the tremor in his breath.
"You don’t know what you’re saying," he murmured.
"Yes, I do." I covered his hand with both of mine, anchoring him to me. "I’m saying I’m not going anywhere. I’m saying whatever comes next, you don’t face it alone."
For a moment, we stayed like that—foreheads touching, breathing the same air, existing in a bubble where the violence and betrayal couldn’t reach us. Then footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Roman pulled back, that mask of control sliding back into place.
Connor appeared in the doorway, his face grim. "Boss? The men are asking for orders."
Roman stood slowly, testing his injured shoulder. "Gather everyone in the main room. Full lockdown protocols. No one leaves the grounds without my permission."
"Already done. What about?—"
"I’ll address them in five minutes." Roman’s voice carried that note of absolute authority that made grown men obey without question.
Connor nodded and disappeared back down the hallway. Roman turned to me, and for a second, I saw that vulnerability flash across his features again.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
I stood and pressed a soft kiss to his uninjured cheek. "Come back to me in one piece."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes at my words, but he just nodded and headed toward the main room where his men were waiting.
I followed at a distance, staying in the shadows of the hallway where I could listen without being seen. Roman’s voice carried clearly as he addressed his inner circle, laying out new security protocols and contingency plans. He sounded calm, controlled, and completely in command despite the blood still staining his clothes.
But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand rested near his concealed weapon. Every man in that room was now a potential threat, and Roman knew it.
When he dismissed them, the men filed out in small groups, their faces grim. I was about to retreat upstairs when I noticed one figure lingering behind me.
Declan stood near the fireplace, his pale eyes fixed on Roman with an expression I couldn’t quite read. When the last of the other men had left, he stepped forward.
"You’re too distracted," he said.
Roman’s entire body went tense. "Excuse me?"
"Cassie is making you soft, Roman." Declan’s tone was casual and conversational, but there was something underneath it that made my skin crawl. "Tonight proved that. You can’t protect an empire when you’re worried about protecting one woman."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Roman turned slowly, and even from my hiding spot, I could see the danger radiating off him in waves.
"She’s not your concern," he said, his voice deadly quiet.
Declan’s mouth curved into a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Right. She’s not."
He started walking away, then paused. "But maybe it’s time to consider whether the cost of keeping her is worth what it’s doing to your judgment."
