Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN ROMAN WAS SUPPOSED TO MARRY
Bianca Ferraro entered the mansion wearing a white cashmere coat and an expression of pure outrage.
“I was not shooting at anyone!”
Two guards escorted her into Roman’s study.
Emma stood near the fireplace with Sophie.
Roman faced Bianca across the room.
“Then explain why you were outside my perimeter during a sniper attack.”
“Because you refused my calls.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“It is if you know me.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Emma studied Bianca.
She was beautiful in the severe, polished way magazine covers favored.
Tall.
Thin.
Dark hair perfectly arranged.
Diamonds at her ears.
Everything about her looked expensive.
Everything about Emma suddenly felt flour-dusted.
Even though she had changed clothes.
Bianca noticed her.
Her gaze moved from Emma’s face downward.
Paused.
Then returned.
Emma knew that look.
She had seen versions of it her entire life.
Bianca turned back to Roman.
“Who is she?”
“Emma Brooks.”
“That explains nothing.”
“She saved Sophie.”
Bianca glanced toward the child.
Sophie did not smile.
“You could have told me Sophie was attacked.”
Roman’s voice hardened.
“I owe you no information.”
Bianca laughed.
“That is interesting considering our fathers spent two years arranging a marriage.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
Roman looked toward her.
Emma looked away.
Bianca noticed.
“Oh.”
A small smile.
“So she doesn’t know.”
Roman stepped forward.
“Bianca.”
“What? The baker deserves context.”
Emma answered before Roman could.
“I’m standing right here.”
Bianca looked at her.
“I noticed.”
Emma smiled.
“Good. Sometimes expensive earrings interfere with peripheral vision.”
Marco coughed.
Roman almost smiled.
Bianca did not.
She turned back.
“We have larger problems.”
Roman nodded.
“Start talking.”
Bianca placed a flash drive on his desk.
“My father received it yesterday.”
Antonio, standing near the bookshelves, stiffened.
“From whom?”
“Vittorio DeLuca.”
Silence.
Roman stared at the drive.
“What’s on it?”
“A proposal.”
“For what?”
Bianca glanced at Sophie.
Roman’s voice sharpened.
“Say it.”
“Your father wants the evidence Elena collected.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“In exchange?”
Bianca hesitated.
“Peace.”
Antonio laughed bitterly.
“Vittorio doesn’t know peace.”
Bianca looked at him.
“You’re alive.”
“So people keep mentioning.”
Roman ignored them.
“What else?”
Bianca’s expression changed.
“He wants Sophie.”
Emma stepped forward.
“No.”
Every head turned.
Emma did not care.
Bianca raised an eyebrow.
Roman said quietly, “He isn’t getting her.”
Bianca continued.
“He claims only temporarily.”
Roman laughed once.
“Then he can temporarily go to hell.”
Emma’s anger eased slightly.
Bianca looked toward her again.
“You seem very involved.”
Emma folded her arms.
“Sophie trusts me.”
“Children trust puppies.”
“Bianca.”
Roman’s warning carried steel.
She stopped.
Emma felt the insult, though.
Not because she believed it.
Because old wounds reacted before confidence could catch them.
She looked at Sophie.
The child’s hands moved privately near her hip.
She is mean.
Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Roman saw.
His mouth twitched.
Bianca noticed.
Her expression cooled further.
“The sniper?”
Roman asked.
“I saw movement near your west perimeter from the road. I stopped. Your guards detained me.”
Marco checked his phone.
“Shooter’s shell casings were found two hundred yards beyond where Ms. Ferraro was caught. Different position.”
Roman nodded.
“Release her.”
Bianca lifted her chin.
“I did not come here for permission to leave.”
“No. You came because someone used your father to carry a message.”
Roman approached.
“You tell Enzo Ferraro something for me.”
“What?”
“No marriage. No alliance. No negotiation involving my daughter.”
Emma’s chest tightened.
Bianca’s face went still.
“You’re ending the arrangement?”
“It ended the day Sophie became a bargaining chip.”
“Our families—”
“I don’t care.”
Bianca looked at Emma.
Understanding sharpened into anger.
“This is because of her.”
Roman’s voice lowered.
“This is because I should never have agreed to marry someone I didn’t love.”
The room went silent.
Emma stared at him.
Bianca’s face whitened.
Roman continued.
“I agreed because it made business sense. That was cowardly and unfair to both of us.”
Bianca laughed bitterly.
“You found morality in a bakery?”
“No.”
Roman looked directly at Emma.
“I found perspective.”
Emma stopped breathing.
Bianca’s eyes flashed.
Then she turned and left.
The door slammed.
Antonio whistled softly.
“Subtle.”
Roman glared.
“Leave.”
“Gladly.”
Marco followed Antonio.
Rosa took Sophie.
Within seconds, Emma and Roman were alone.
Emma moved toward the window.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes.”
“You could have handled it privately.”
“I tried privately for two years.”
She turned.
“Two years?”
“The arrangement was never romantic.”
“That’s supposed to help?”
Roman frowned.
“Does it need to?”
Emma hated that question.
Because yes.
Some ridiculous part of her wanted reassurance.
She crossed her arms.
“No.”
Roman came closer.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m not.”
“You lie badly.”
“I work in a bakery. We lie constantly.”
“What?”
“Yes, ma’am, the frosting is not too sweet. Yes, sir, nobody can tell you dropped the cake. Of course your five-year-old absolutely designed this tasteful dinosaur wedding centerpiece.”
Roman stared.
Emma sighed.
“I don’t like being surprised.”
“I intended to tell you.”
“When?”
“When there was something to tell.”
“There is nothing to tell.”
Roman stepped closer.
“That is another bad lie.”
Her pulse jumped.
“Roman.”
He stopped only inches away.
“Do you want me to say it?”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“No.”
He lowered his voice.
“I have thought about kissing you since the SUV.”
Her heart nearly stopped.
“That was four days ago.”
“I know.”
“That seems unhealthy.”
“It has been distracting.”
She tried to laugh.
It came out weak.
Roman continued.
“I thought about it when you argued about Sophie going outside.”
“Very romantic.”
“When you threw a grape at me.”
“You threw one back.”
“When you stood between Ferretti and my daughter.”
Emma’s smile faded.
Roman’s gaze softened.
“And when I believed he might shoot you, I realized something I did not want to realize.”
“What?”
“I was afraid in a way I have not been since Elena died.”
Emma looked away.
“That isn’t fair.”
“No.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you protect people who cannot give you anything.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know you make my daughter laugh.”
“Roman—”
“I know you insult my cinnamon choices.”
“You deserved that.”
“I know you make this house feel less like a tomb.”
Emma’s eyes stung.
She hated that he could do that.
Turn jokes into something dangerous.
She whispered, “I’m not Elena.”
His face changed.
“I know.”
“I won’t compete with a dead woman.”
“You are not.”
“She was Sophie’s mother.”
“She will always be Sophie’s mother.”
Roman stepped back slightly.
“And I will always love her.”
Emma swallowed.
He continued.
“But love is not a room with one chair.”
Emma looked at him.
Roman’s voice softened.
“Elena is part of me. That does not mean the rest of me died with her.”
Silence.
Emma’s chest hurt.
“I don’t belong in your world.”
“Neither did Elena.”
“That did not end well.”
Roman flinched.
Emma instantly regretted it.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
He looked away.
“You’re right.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You meant exactly what you said.”
His voice was quiet.
“And you should.”
He walked to the desk.
Emma watched him.
For the first time, Roman DeLuca seemed uncertain.
Not dangerous.
Not powerful.
Just a widower afraid history would repeat itself.
Emma approached.
“I’m scared.”
Roman looked up.
“So am I.”
“That doesn’t inspire confidence.”
“It shouldn’t.”
She stood before him.
“Your life is insane.”
“Yes.”
“People shoot at picnics.”
“Occasionally.”
“Your family members return from the dead.”
“That is less common.”
Emma laughed despite herself.
Roman smiled.
Then she asked, “Are you still thinking about kissing me?”
His smile disappeared.
“Yes.”
“How distracting.”
“Extremely.”
Emma took one step closer.
“Maybe you should solve that.”
Roman did not move.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“If I kiss you, I don’t know how to make it meaningless.”
Her heart pounded.
“Who asked you to?”
That was all it took.
Roman touched her face.
Slowly.
Giving her time to move.
She didn’t.
His mouth met hers.
Not violent.
Not possessive.
Careful.
Almost painfully careful.
Emma grabbed his shirt.
Roman’s other hand settled at her waist.
The kiss deepened.
Everything disappeared.
The mansion.
The threat.
The dead.
The guns.
For several seconds there was only warmth.
Then the office door opened.
Sophie stood there.
Roman and Emma jumped apart.
Sophie stared.
Then her eyes widened.
She signed.
I KNEW IT.
Emma covered her face.
Roman muttered something in Italian.
Sophie ran down the hallway.
Rosa’s voice followed.
“What happened?”
Sophie’s hands moved wildly.
Emma could already imagine.
Roman looked at her.
“You realize everyone will know in thirty seconds.”
Emma groaned.
“Can the Cardinals take me now?”
“No.”
He kissed her forehead.
Something about the tenderness frightened her more than the kiss.
Then Marco entered.
His face destroyed the moment.
“Roman.”
Roman turned.
“What?”
“We decrypted Elena’s drive.”
“And?”
Marco held up a folder.
“We know what Vittorio was moving through your shipping routes.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“What?”
“People.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
Marco continued.
“Women. Children. Trafficking network.”
Roman went absolutely still.
“No.”
“Your father used your ports without your knowledge.”
Roman looked sick.
Marco placed photographs on the desk.
“You shut down three warehouses after Elena died. Those were his staging locations. That’s why he vanished again.”
Roman’s hands curled.
Emma stepped beside him.
Marco’s voice became grim.
“And we found something else.”
“What?”
“Elena didn’t discover the network alone.”
Roman looked up.
Marco placed another photograph down.
Bianca Ferraro.
Roman stared.
“She helped Elena?”
“No.”
Marco shook his head.
“She appears in payment records.”
Emma’s chest tightened.
Marco continued.
“And the sniper who fired at the picnic?”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“We identified him.”
“Who?”
Marco looked toward the door Bianca had walked through twenty minutes earlier.
“One of Bianca’s father’s men.”
Roman’s face became lethal.
Emma whispered, “She lied.”
Marco nodded.
“She didn’t come here because she was accidentally near the attack.”
He placed one final security image on the desk.
Bianca speaking to a man with a red bird tattoo.
“She came to make sure the shooter missed.”
Roman stared.
Emma frowned.
“Why would she arrange a sniper to miss?”
Marco looked at Sophie’s empty doorway.
“To frighten Roman into accepting the marriage.”
Roman’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“And if fear didn’t work?”
Marco answered.
“According to the intercepted messages, Bianca had another plan.”
“What plan?”
Marco looked at Emma.
“To remove the competition.”
Roman’s face changed.
Emma felt cold.
May you like
Marco swallowed.
“The target is Emma.”
