Chapter 2 - THE SILVER WATCH
His gaze swept over her.
It was not the quick, dismissive glance Sadi was used to. It was a slow, deliberate assessment that made the air in her lungs vanish.
Roman Rossi looked at her emerald-green dress, the way the fabric hugged her waist, and the soft curve of her shoulders.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t offer a cheap compliment.
He simply opened the passenger door of the black SUV.
“Get in.”
The drive to Naperville took forty minutes. They spoke less than ten words.
Sadi spent the entire ride staring out the tinted window, twisting her fingers in her lap, convinced she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
“Stop fidgeting.”
Roman’s voice was a low rumble over the hum of the engine. He didn’t look away from the road.
“I’m nervous,” Sadi admitted, her voice tight. “My mother is going to interrogate you. Derek is going to stare. I don’t know your middle name. I don’t know where we met. We have no story.”
“My middle name is Anthony,” Roman said calmly. “And we met at a charity gala I was funding. You were analyzing a Renaissance painting. I asked you a question about the brushwork. You told me I had no taste.”
Sadi blinked. “I would never say that to you.”
“You would if you didn’t know who I was,” Roman replied. He finally glanced at her, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s believable because you’re passionate about art, and I am a man used to getting my way. It creates friction. People believe friction.”
He pulled the heavy SUV into the circular driveway of the Pinecrest Country Club.
The valet rushed forward, eyes widening when he recognized the vehicle. Roman handed him the keys without a word, then walked around to open Sadi’s door.
As she stepped out, her heel caught on the pavement.
She stumbled.
Roman caught her instantly. His large hand wrapped around her bare waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
He was solid muscle. The scent of cedar and expensive cologne washed over her.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear.
He didn’t let go. He kept his hand firmly on the small of her back as they walked toward the double glass doors.
The rehearsal dinner was held in the country club’s grand ballroom. Fifty guests mingled holding champagne flutes.
When Sadi walked in, the reaction was exactly what she had feared.
Silence.
Conversations stopped. Heads turned.
Her mother, Diane, froze mid-sentence near the ice sculpture.
But they weren't staring at Sadi’s weight. They weren't whispering about her dress.
They were staring at the terrifyingly handsome, six-foot-three man walking beside her with the quiet authority of a king entering a peasant village.
“Sadi,” Diane gasped, rushing forward, her eyes darting frantically to Roman. “You… you brought a plus one.”
“Mom,” Sadi said, her voice shaking slightly. “This is Roman. My boyfriend.”
Roman extended a hand. “A pleasure, Diane. Sadi has told me so much about you.”
Diane shook his hand, looking as though she might faint. “I… I didn’t know Sadi was seeing anyone. Let alone someone so… established.”
“We prefer to keep our private lives private,” Roman said smoothly. His hand slid from Sadi’s waist to intertwine with her fingers. “But when she told me about the seating arrangements, I insisted on joining.”
Diane’s face flushed dark red. “The seating… well, there was a mix-up.”
“I’m sure,” Roman said. The tone was polite, but his eyes were ice. “Which is why I spoke to the maître d' on our way in. He was more than happy to accommodate us at Table 4.”
Sadi’s heart stopped.
Table 4. Derek’s table.
Before her mother could protest, Roman guided Sadi across the room.
Derek was sitting at the table, laughing with his new, impossibly thin fiancée, a blonde woman named Chloe.
When Derek looked up and saw Sadi, his smug smile vanished.
He looked at Roman, taking in the bespoke suit, the expensive watch, and the sheer, intimidating presence of the man. Derek instinctively shrank back in his chair.
“Derek,” Sadi said, trying to keep her voice steady. “This is Roman.”
“Hey,” Derek choked out.
Roman didn’t offer his hand. He simply pulled a chair out for Sadi, waiting until she sat before taking the seat beside her.
For the next hour, Roman played the perfect, devoted boyfriend. He poured her wine. He listened to her speak. He casually dismantled every passive-aggressive comment Derek tried to make about Sadi’s career choices.
It was intoxicating. For the first time in her life, Sadi felt protected.
But as the salads were cleared, Sadi noticed something strange.
Roman wasn’t just looking at Derek.
He was watching a man standing near the kitchen doors. A man with a scarred jaw and a cheap gray suit.
“Answer One,” Roman whispered, leaning close to Sadi’s ear under the guise of an affectionate nuzzle. “I didn’t just pick this country club for an alibi, Sadi.”
Sadi stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“The Moretti family owns the liquor supplier for this club,” Roman murmured softly. “That man by the door is a Moretti scout.”
Open Two: Why would a Moretti scout be at a civilian wedding dinner? And why was Roman looking at him with such intense, calculated focus?
Before Sadi could ask, Roman reached into his jacket pocket.
Under the table, out of sight of the other guests, he unclasped a heavy, vintage silver watch from his wrist. It was an antique piece, etched with intricate family crests.
He took Sadi’s left hand and clasped the heavy silver watch around her wrist.
“Roman, what are you doing?” she whispered, feeling the cold metal against her skin.
“Listen to me very carefully, Sadi,” Roman said, his voice stripped of all its previous warmth. He was no longer the fake boyfriend. He was the mob boss.
“In exactly three minutes, the lights in this room are going to go out. When they do, you drop to the floor. And no matter what you hear, no matter who screams…”
May you like
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and terrifying.
“…you do not take that watch off.”
