Chapter 4 - When Roman Came Back
Roman's safe house was nothing like Naen expected.
No marble mansion.
No gold furniture.
No armed men standing dramatically beside every doorway.
It was a quiet brownstone on a tree-lined street.
Leo loved it immediately.
“There's a backyard!”
Naen didn't.
She saw cameras.
Reinforced glass.
Locks.
Men pretending not to guard the exits.
“This is a prison.”
Roman stood behind her.
“A comfortable one.”
“Still a prison.”
“For tonight.”
Naen turned.
“And tomorrow?”
“We find who threatened you.”
Roman started walking away.
“Roman.”
He stopped.
“You don't get to make decisions about my life.”
He looked back.
“No.”
“Then stop doing it.”
A long silence followed.
“Fair.”
It was the first time in years anyone had spoken to Roman like that.
Vincent watched from the doorway with obvious amusement.
Later, Naen found Roman alone in the kitchen.
He was attempting to pour coffee while leaning on his cane.
“You're going to reopen the wound.”
“I've survived worse.”
“That isn't impressive.”
Roman looked at her.
Naen took the coffee pot.
“Sit.”
He sat.
She poured.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Roman said, “Why did you stop?”
“What?”
“In the alley.”
Naen shrugged.
“You were dying.”
“Most people would have walked away.”
“I almost did.”
Roman seemed surprised.
“I thought about Leo. My shift. My rent.”
“But you stayed.”
Naen stared into her cup.
“I couldn't explain to my son someday that I let someone die because I was afraid of being late for work.”
Roman absorbed that.
“What do you teach him?”
“To be decent.”
“Expensive lesson.”
“Sometimes.”
Roman looked toward the backyard where Leo was playing under Vincent's watch.
“My father taught me the opposite.”
Naen waited.
Roman rarely volunteered anything personal.
“He taught me kindness creates weaknesses people can exploit.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I did.”
“And now?”
Roman looked at her.
“I met you.”
Naen lowered her eyes.
That moment frightened her more than his armed men.
Because beneath everything surrounding Roman—the money, violence, reputation—she had begun to see a lonely man.
And lonely men could be dangerous in completely different ways.
The next morning, Roman gathered his security team.
Someone had known his route the night he was attacked.
Someone had disabled cameras.
Someone had known where Naen lived.
That narrowed the list.
Vincent placed photographs across a table.
One caught Naen's attention.
She pointed.
“Him.”
Roman looked.
“Marcus Vale?”
“He was at Laura.”
“When?”
“The night I was fired.”
Roman's expression sharpened.
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
Marcus was Roman's financial adviser.
For twelve years.
More importantly, he controlled several legitimate businesses, including Laura's operating accounts.
Roman looked at Vincent.
“Check Kesler's records.”
Hours later, they found it.
Monthly transfers.
Kesler had been siphoning money from Laura.
Marcus had been hiding it.
But theft wasn't the real secret.
Laura's private dining rooms had been used for meetings Roman had never authorized.
Marcus had been building alliances.
Roman leaned back.
“Kesler wasn't simply a bad manager.”
Vincent nodded.
“He was Marcus's man.”
Naen felt cold.
“So firing me wasn't random?”
“At first, probably,” Roman said.
“But afterward?”
Roman looked toward the photograph from her apartment.
“Afterward, Marcus realized you had seen me alive.”
Naen understood.
She had become evidence.
That evening, Roman confronted Kesler.
The former manager broke quickly.
Marcus had paid him.
He had manipulated invoices.
Passed information.
Allowed meetings.
But Kesler insisted he had known nothing about Roman's stabbing.
Roman believed him.
Mostly.
Then Kesler said something unexpected.
“Marcus asked about the waitress.”
Roman went still.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing.”
Roman stepped closer.
Kesler's eyes dropped.
“David.”
“I told him she had a son.”
Roman's fist struck the desk.
Naen jumped.
It was the first time she had seen him lose control.
Roman immediately looked at her.
His anger vanished behind discipline.
“Vincent.”
“Already moving.”
But Marcus had moved first.
At 3:17 that afternoon, Naen received a photograph on her phone.
Leo's daycare.
Taken from across the street.
Below it:
ROMAN DIES, OR THE BOY DOES.
Naen stopped breathing.
Roman took the phone.
His face changed.
Not anger.
Something colder.
“Leo is here,” Vincent said. “He's safe.”
Naen grabbed Roman's jacket.
“You end this.”
“I will.”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened.
“You end it without becoming what they think you are.”
Roman stared at her.
“You don't know what I am.”
“I know exactly what you could have done to Kesler.”
He said nothing.
“You fired him.”
“He deserved worse.”
“Maybe.”
Naen looked into his eyes.
“But Leo is watching me. And whether you like it or not, he's watching you too.”
Roman's expression shifted.
Nobody had ever asked him to be better.
They had asked him to be stronger.
Crueler.
Faster.
More feared.
Never better.
He covered Naen's hand with his.
“I'll bring this to an end.”
She whispered, “Promise?”
Roman hesitated.
Then:
“I promise.”
But outside the brownstone, a guard quietly sent Marcus a message.
THEY KNOW.
Seconds later came the response.
May you like
THEN TONIGHT WE FINISH IT.
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