Chapter 8 - The Scars We Carry
8 - 15
That evening, the private terrace of the Vance penthouse was bathed in the warm, amber glow of recessed architectural lighting. The rain had cleared, leaving behind a crisp, starry night sky and a glittering panorama of the city below.
Sadi sat wrapped in a thick, cashmere throw blanket on a plush outdoor lounger, holding a warm mug of spiced tea between her hands. Her legs were tucked up beneath her, and her gaze was fixed on the horizon where the Kincaid Tower’s corporate logo—once illuminated by a massive neon display—was now entirely dark, its lights permanently severed by the day’s hostile takeover.
Sliding glass doors parted softly behind her. Roman stepped out onto the terrace, carrying a small plate of artisan dark chocolate squares and a fresh glass of sparkling water. He set the plate down on the low marble table beside her and sat down on the edge of the lounger, pulling her legs over his lap so he could gently massage her right calf where Trevor’s shoe had impacted the marble floor days earlier.
The touch was firm, warm, and grounding.
“The bruising is fading,” Roman murmured, his thumb gliding soothingly over her skin.
“It was just a bruise, Roman,” Sadi said softly, a faint smile touching her lips as she looked down at him. “I’ve survived worse.”
“That doesn't mean you should have to experience it,” Roman replied, his voice carrying that familiar, quiet intensity. He looked up at her, his gray eyes reflecting the distant city lights. “Julian Kincaid signed his guilty plea thirty minutes ago. His assets are frozen, his company is being carved up by my liquidators, and by tomorrow morning, he and his inner circle will be sitting in federal custody awaiting arraignment.”
Sadi took a slow sip of her tea, letting the warmth spread through her chest. “And Trevor?”
“Trevor was evicted from his corporate housing this afternoon,” Roman said, a trace of dry amusement in his tone. “Miller tracked him down to a cheap motel near the interstate. All his credit cards have been declined due to frozen accounts tied to the Kincaid shell network. He’s completely broke, stranded, and friendless.”
Sadi fell silent for a moment. She didn't feel triumph, nor did she feel petty joy. She simply felt a profound, heavy sense of closure.
“When I was twenty-two,” Sadi began, her voice barely above a whisper, staring out at the twinkling lights of the skyline, “I used to walk past buildings like this and wonder what it felt like to be warm. To not have to worry about whether the heater in the car was going to drain the battery before morning. When Trevor left, taking what little money I had saved, I thought it was proof that I was unlovable. That people like me were only meant to be stepped on.”
Roman stopped massaging her leg. He reached up, gently taking her face in both of his hands, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.
“Listen to me, Sadi,” Roman said, every word weighted with absolute, unyielding conviction. “You were never the one who was small. Trevor was a coward living in the shadow of his own inadequacy, and Kincaid was a parasite feeding on a system that rewards noise over substance. You survived the dirt because you are stronger than every single person who ever tried to push you down.”
Sadi’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, not of sadness, but of a deep, enduring release. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, breathing in the familiar cedarwood and ozone scent that always made her feel safe.
May you like
“You built an empire just to keep me warm,” she whispered against his lips.
“I built an empire because the world needed to know what happens when you cross the wrong woman,” Roman replied softly, before pressing his lips gently against hers in a slow, lingering kiss that tasted like home.
