Chapter 9 - THE PENTHOUSE
The Romano estate was entirely different in the daylight.
The heavy velvet curtains had been pulled back, allowing the bright morning sun to flood the mahogany floors.
The staff had already cleared away every trace of the engagement dinner.
Camille’s belongings were completely gone. Evan had seen to it that her clothes, her jewelry, and every photograph of her were burned in the courtyard incinerator.
It was as if she had never existed.
I stood in the massive living room, wearing a soft white cashmere sweater Adrian had given me to change into.
The bruise on my neck was still tender, but I didn't hide it with a scarf anymore.
I didn't have to hide anything.
Marcus and Leo were upstairs in the family wing. Marcus was finally sleeping in a real bed for the first time in a decade, and Leo was down the hall, eating a massive plate of pancakes prepared by the chef.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs.
Adrian walked down. He had showered and changed into dark slacks and a simple black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He looked exhausted, yet lighter than I had ever seen him.
He walked straight to me and stopped a few inches away.
He didn't say a word. He just reached out and gently traced the line of my jaw, being incredibly careful not to touch the bruise.
“You should be sleeping,” I said softly, looking up into his eyes.
“I can’t,” he murmured. “Every time I close my eyes, I see that boathouse on fire. I see you running toward it.”
“I thought you were inside.”
“I know.”
Adrian stepped closer, closing the distance between us.
He rested his forehead against mine.
“I’ve spent the last eleven years building an empire out of rage,” Adrian whispered. “I thought power was the only thing that could keep me safe. I thought marrying Camille would secure my family’s legacy.”
He pulled back slightly to look at my lips, then back up to my eyes.
“But the only thing that saved my family... was you.”
My heart fluttered violently against my ribs.
“I’m just me, Adrian.”
“You are everything,” he said fiercely.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat velvet box.
Panic spiked in my chest. “Adrian, it’s too fast. I can’t—”
“It’s not a ring, Hannah,” he said with a soft, knowing smile.
He opened the box.
Inside rested a heavy, antique brass key.
Not the one to the lake house.
“This is the master key to the Romano estate,” Adrian said, taking it out and placing it in my palm. His large hands folded over mine.
“No more locker rooms. No more uniforms. No more side doors.”
He looked deep into my eyes.
“This is your house now. You go where you want. You ask for what you want. You are an equal under this roof.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
No man had ever offered me equality. They had offered money, or protection, or control.
But Adrian was offering me his world, on my terms.
I closed my fingers around the cold brass key.
“What about the staff?” I asked nervously. “They know me as the girl who poured their wine.”
Adrian’s smile widened, a hint of his dangerous, mafia-boss persona shining through.
“Then they will learn very quickly to address you as the woman who holds my leash.”
I laughed, a wet, breathless sound.
Adrian didn't wait any longer.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.
It wasn't a rushed, desperate kiss. It was deep, slow, and full of absolute devotion. It tasted like coffee and salvation.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, letting the warmth of his body chase away the last lingering chill of the night.
We broke apart only when we heard a small voice from the stairs.
“Are you guys kissing?”
We both turned.
Leo was standing on the landing, holding a half-eaten piece of bacon, staring at us with wide eyes.
Adrian chuckled, a rich, deep sound I had never heard before.
May you like
He walked over to the stairs and scooped Leo up into his arms, bacon and all.
“Yes, Leo,” Adrian said, looking back at me with a look of pure love. “We are.”
