Chapter 8 - This Time, She Saved Him
Evelyn ran.
Smoke poured through the street.
People screamed.
Glass covered the pavement.
The burning vehicle was Roman’s.
“Roman!”
She pushed through the crowd.
Then someone grabbed her.
She spun.
Roman.
Alive.
A cut crossed his forehead.
“You’re okay.”
His hands moved instinctively toward her.
Then stopped before touching.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
The question was so Roman that she almost cried.
Sirens approached.
Gabriel arrived.
“The explosion was remote-triggered.”
“Who?” Evelyn asked.
Gabriel’s face was grim.
“Vale’s network was larger than we knew.”
Federal investigators eventually identified a surviving lieutenant: Marcus Dane, Vale’s financial enforcer.
Dane blamed Roman and Evelyn for destroying the organization that had made him wealthy.
Roman immediately wanted Evelyn moved somewhere secure.
He caught himself halfway through the sentence.
“You should—”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
Roman sighed.
“Would you consider staying somewhere secure?”
“Much better.”
Even Gabriel laughed.
They established temporary security at the Moretti Foundation building.
But Evelyn refused to hide.
Dane wanted them afraid.
She had spent enough of her life afraid.
Three days later, Evelyn discovered the key.
The threatening photograph had been taken from inside the community center.
That meant someone working there had helped Dane.
Security footage identified a contractor.
He confessed quickly.
Dane was planning to flee through a private airfield outside Chicago.
Roman wanted to go after him.
Evelyn stopped him.
“No.”
He stared.
“That sounded suspiciously like an order.”
“It was.”
“I thought we didn’t do those.”
“We’re divorced. Different rules.”
Roman almost smiled.
Then she became serious.
“Let law enforcement handle him.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“Same problem.”
“No, Roman. That is the problem.”
She stepped closer.
“You still think loving someone means destroying anyone who threatens them.”
His jaw tightened.
“What would you have me do?”
“Stay.”
The word landed between them.
Roman stared at her.
“Stay?”
“With me.”
For once, Roman Castellano had no answer.
Federal agents arrested Marcus Dane before sunrise.
No revenge.
No bloodshed.
No private execution.
Just handcuffs.
Due process.
An ending Roman once would have considered weakness.
When the call came confirming Dane’s arrest, Evelyn found Roman on the foundation roof.
“It’s over.”
He nodded.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
She stood beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Roman said, “I kept thinking if I killed every danger before it reached you, eventually you’d feel safe.”
“I never did.”
“I know.”
“You do now.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn studied him.
The man beside her was still Roman.
Still complicated.
Still capable of darkness.
But change was not pretending the darkness never existed.
Change was choosing differently when it mattered.
She reached for his hand.
Roman looked down.
Then at her.
“Don’t make this dramatic.”
“I’m Italian.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You married me.”
“Past tense.”
“Ouch.”
She smiled.
Roman squeezed her fingers lightly.
No possession.
No pressure.
Just contact.
“I missed you,” he said.
Evelyn’s smile faded.
“I missed parts of you.”
“That’s fair.”
“I don’t want our old marriage back.”
“Neither do I.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
She searched his face.
“What do you want?”
Roman took a long time answering.
“One dinner.”
“That’s disappointingly reasonable.”
“I’m trying something new.”
“And after dinner?”
“If you hate me, you leave.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then maybe I ask for another.”
Evelyn laughed.
“You’re asking permission to date your ex-wife?”
“Yes.”
“That might be the strangest thing you’ve ever done.”
“I once purchased a yacht because you said you liked Lake Michigan.”
“I said I liked looking at Lake Michigan.”
“I know that now.”
She laughed harder.
Roman watched her with an expression that made her chest ache.
Not because he looked possessive.
Because he looked grateful.
Evelyn stepped closer.
She kissed his cheek.
Nothing more.
Roman went completely still.
“Dinner,” she said.
“When?”
“Friday.”
“I’ll make a reservation.”
“No.”
He looked alarmed.
“I choose the restaurant.”
Roman’s expression suggested she had proposed armed combat.
“Where?”
“There’s a taco place near the foundation.”
He stared.
“No private room?”
“No.”
“Security?”
“One person outside.”
“Evelyn—”
“One.”
Roman sighed.
“Fine.”
She smiled.
“Look at you compromising.”
He leaned closer.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your reputation?”
“Destroyed.”
Evelyn walked toward the stairwell.
Roman called after her.
“Friday at seven?”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Seven-thirty.”
“Why?”
“Because I know seven-thirty will annoy you.”
Roman shook his head.
She continued downstairs smiling.
For the first time, she was not returning to Roman Castellano because she had nowhere else to go.
She had her own home.
Her own money.
Her own work.
Her own name.
She was returning because she wanted one dinner.
Nothing more.
May you like
Unless she chose it.
And that difference changed everything.
