Chapter 4 - THE SHADOW OF DEBT
It took three agonizing hours for Claire’s core temperature to stabilize.
Dr. Keller stayed by her side, monitoring her vital signs while intravenous warm fluids dripped into her arm. Roman never left the room. He sat in the armchair beside the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, his face etched in dark, contemplative stone.
Around 2:00 AM, the blizzard outside began to ease into a steady, quiet snowfall.
Claire let out a soft, weak groan. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling against the heavy weight of sleep, before slowly opening.
The first thing she saw was the dark, ornate wooden ceiling of Roman DeLuca’s private bedroom. The second thing she felt was an overwhelming, delicious warmth wrapping around her entire body.
And the third thing she noticed was the large, powerful hand gently holding hers.
She turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting the dark, intense gaze of Roman DeLuca.
"Mr... Mr. DeLuca?" her voice came out as a raspy, dry whisper.
Roman stood up immediately, leaning over the bed. "Don't try to talk yet," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, completely unlike the terrifying mob boss everyone feared. He reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, supporting her shoulders with one massive arm while holding the straw to her cracked lips.
Claire took a few small sips, the cool water soothing her burning throat.
"Where... am I?" she asked, looking around the luxurious room.
"You're in my room. You're safe," Roman said, setting the glass down. He didn't let go of her hand. "You were caught in the storm. I found you near the terrace."
Memory rushed back over Claire like a cold wave—the freezing wind, the locked carriage house door, Vivian’s cold, triumphant smile. She shuddered, a sudden tremor passing through her frame.
"I... I didn't get the wine," Claire whispered, tears of exhaustion and humiliation swelling in her eyes. "I'm sorry..."
Roman’s expression hardened, a flash of pure fury darkening his eyes before he quickly softened it for her sake.
"Forget the damn wine, Claire," Roman said softly, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that escaped down her cheek. "You almost died out there."
Claire looked away, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was just a maid. A servant. Why was the most powerful man in the state sitting by her bed, looking at her with such intense, terrifying concern?
"Ms. Mercer... she told me to go," Claire said, her voice trembling. "She... she threatened my sister."
Roman’s posture instantly went rigid. "Threatened your sister? How?"
Claire squeezed her eyes shut, the burden she had been carrying alone for months suddenly feeling too heavy to bear. "My father took out a loan six years ago for my sister Lily's medical care. He passed away before paying it off. The debt... it was sold to a private lender. One hundred eighty-four thousand dollars."
She looked back at Roman, her eyes filled with desperation. "Vivian found out. She came to me two weeks ago. She said if I didn't obey her—if I didn't stay out of her way—she would make sure the lender came after Lily's care facility in Connecticut. She would have Lily thrown out."
Roman’s jaw set so hard the muscles jumped beneath his skin. His mind worked with terrifying speed, connecting the pieces of a puzzle he hadn't even realized was being built right under his roof.
Vivian hadn't just sent Claire into the storm on a cruel whim. It was deliberate. It was an attempt to break—or eliminate—a woman Vivian perceived as a threat.
"Who owns the debt, Claire?" Roman asked, his voice deadly quiet.
"A... a company called Apex Financial," Claire whispered.
Roman's eyes narrowed. Apex Financial was a shell company owned by Donald Mercer—Vivian’s father.
They were using a fraudulent debt to blackmail his staff, to exert control inside his own house, and ultimately, to attempt the murder of an innocent woman under his protection.
Roman stood up slowly, leaning down to pull the warm duvet higher around Claire's shoulders.
"Rest now, Claire," Roman said, pressing his lips gently against her forehead—a action that made Claire’s breath hitch in her throat. "Your sister is safe. Your debt is gone. And the people who did this to you are about to pay a price they cannot afford."
May you like
He turned and walked toward the bedroom door, calling out for Frank.
"Frank," Roman ordered as he stepped into the hallway. "Lock down the house. Nobody leaves. Not Vivian, not her father, not their drivers. Tell security to bring Donald Mercer and Vivian to my study."
