Chapter 7 - Safehouse
By dawn, the penthouse was secure, but Roman wasn't taking any chances.
He moved Juliet and the children to a heavily fortified, off-the-grid compound in the Catskill Mountains. It was a fortress built of stone and steel, surrounded by armed loyalists and hidden by miles of dense forest.
In the master bedroom of the safehouse, Juliet carefully changed Roman’s bandages. The bullet had missed his artery, but the wound was deep and angry.
He sat shirtless on the edge of the bed, his muscles corded with tension.
"You need to rest," Juliet murmured, tying off the fresh gauze.
"I can't rest while Silas's faction is still breathing," Roman replied, his voice dark.
Juliet stepped back, but Roman reached out with his good arm, catching her wrist. He pulled her gently between his knees.
"Are you afraid of me, Juliet?" he asked softly.
She looked down at the scars crisscrossing his torso—a roadmap of a violent life. Then she looked into his eyes. The same eyes that belonged to Leo and Mia.
"I was," she admitted. "For six years, I was terrified of you. But when you stepped in front of that bullet... I realized the only thing I'm afraid of now is losing you again."
Roman exhaled a shaky breath. He pulled her down, burying his face in her stomach, wrapping his good arm around her waist. It was an act of complete, unguarded submission from a man who bowed to no one.
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Juliet ran her fingers through his dark hair, tears silently falling. The walls between them had finally collapsed. The trauma of the past six years was washing away in the quiet safety of the mountain stronghold.
When Roman finally looked up, he pulled her into a kiss. It was desperate, bruising, and tasted of salt and sorrow. It was the kiss of two people trying to compress six years of lost time into a single moment.
