Chapter 7 - The City Sanctuary
The pent-house apartment overlooking Lake Michigan was an oasis of floor-to-ceiling glass, soft cream leather, and warm hardwood. Unlike the sprawling, oppressive stone estate outside Chicago, this space belonged entirely to Roman and Hannah.
It was built for comfort, light, and privacy.
The moment the private elevator doors slid shut behind them, Roman dropped his keys onto the marble entryway console. Before the sound had even faded, he turned, grabbed Hannah by the waist, and lifted her off her feet, pressing her gently against the smooth wood of the front door.
Hannah gasped, her hands instinctively clutching his broad shoulders. "Roman!"
"Two days," Roman growled softly against her neck, his hands resting heavily against the soft, generous curve of her hips. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla and jasmine that was uniquely hers. "Two days of pretending to be civilized for my family. I thought I was going to lose my mind."
Hannah smiled, running her fingers through his thick dark hair, feeling the tense muscles of his neck finally begin to relax. "You were very civilized. You only threatened to kill three people."
"They deserved worse," Roman murmured, his lips trailing hot, slow kisses up her throat until he found her lips.
The kiss wasn't gentle. It was possessive, deep, and heavy with months of unspoken fiercely protective love. Roman tasted of dark espresso and unyielding devotion. He pulled her closer, his large hands sinking into the lush curve of her lower back, holding her as if he wanted to fuse her body directly into his own.
Hannah surrendered completely to the heat, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her effortlessly across the wide living room into their master suite.
The bedroom was dark, save for the pale city lights reflecting off the snow outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Roman set her down on the edge of the king-sized bed, kneeling down before her on one knee.
He didn't immediately touch her clothing. Instead, he reached up, his large, calloused hand gently cupping the side of her face—the side where his mother’s ring had left a faint mark twenty-four hours ago.
His thumb smoothed over her skin with unbelievable softness.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly whisper.
"No, Roman," Hannah whispered back, placing her hand over his. "It stopped hurting hours ago."
"It hurt me," Roman said softly, his dark eyes burning with a deep, quiet intensity. "Watching her lay a hand on you... knowing that for twenty seconds, I couldn't tear this family apart because you needed me to wait."
"You trusted me," Hannah said. "That was the greatest gift you could have given me in that room. You stood there when everyone else wanted me on my knees, and you told them I was your world."
"You are my world," Roman said simply. He stood up, leaning down to capture her mouth again as his hands slid beneath the cream cashmere sweater, pulling it over her head.
He loved her body with a fierce, worshipful passion that had stunned Hannah when they first met. In a world obsessed with thin, fragile perfection, Roman treated every curve, every soft contour of Hannah’s frame as if it were a masterpiece crafted specifically for his hands. He smoothed his palms over her waist, her hips, her thighs, leaving trails of fire across her skin until both of them were breathless, tangled together beneath the heavy silk sheets.
Later, as the city lights flickered against the ceiling, Hannah lay with her head resting on Roman’s bare, heavily muscled chest. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, his thumb lazily tracing circles against her bare hip.
"Roman?" she asked softly into the quiet room.
"Hmm?"
"What happens to the family now?"
Roman shifted slightly, resting his chin on top of her head. "Mateo will handle the day-to-day operations of the shipping yards. Dominic will take over the construction board. My mother will stay at the stone estate, quiet and retired. And you and I will run the foundation the way it should have been run from the beginning."
"And Nicholas?"
Roman’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath. "The federal prosecutors have already linked his accounts to three other embezzlement schemes in Europe. He’s going away for a very long time, Hannah. He won't ever come near you again."
Hannah closed her eyes, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of Roman’s heart beneath her cheek. For the first time in eighteen months, she felt completely safe. Not just safe from physical harm, but safe in her place within his life.
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"I love you, Roman," she whispered.
Roman tightened his grip around her, pulling her small hand up to press a lingering kiss against her palm. "I loved you before I knew your name, Hannah. And there isn't a force on this earth that will ever take you away from me."
