Chapter 7 - The Shift in the Wind
The incident at the Plaza shifted something deep and irreversible between Roman and Harper.
When they returned to the estate late that night, Beatrice went straight to her suite, exhausted from the evening’s events. Harper walked with Roman to his private study on the third floor.
The room was dimly lit, lined with leather books and maps of the city’s shipping ports. Roman poured two glasses of water, handing one to Harper. His tuxedo jacket was off, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the strong column of his neck.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Roman said quietly, stepping close to her. “My world is rarely subtle.”
“You protected me,” Harper said softly, setting her glass on his desk. “No one has protected me like that since my father died.”
Roman stared down at her, his gaze lingering on her soft lips. “You shouldn't have to be strong all the time, Harper. You spend your life taking care of everyone else—your brother, your mother, mine. Who takes care of you?”
Tears pricked the back of Harper’s eyes. The question hit her with overwhelming force. For years, she had carried the weight of survival entirely alone.
“No one,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Roman reached out, his large, warm hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away a single tear that escaped down her face. “Let me,” he murmured.
Harper looked up into his dark, intense eyes. The breath caught in her throat. Slowly, gently, Roman leaned down, resting his forehead against hers before covering her mouth with his in a deep, tender kiss.
The kiss was unlike anything Harper had ever experienced—it wasn't violent or demanding, but full of a deep, aching restraint that spoke of weeks of hidden desire. Harper let out a soft sigh, her hands sliding up his chest, wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer.
When Roman finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his eyes burning with a dark, profound devotion. “I have wanted to do that since the moment you stepped between me and that waiter,” he admitted softly.
May you like
Harper touched her own lips, her heart racing. “Roman... your mother... your business... I’m just an employee.”
“You are not an employee, Harper,” Roman said fiercely, taking her face in both of his hands. “You are the only light this dark house has seen in twenty years. And I am not letting you go.”
