Chapter 63
Roman looked about ready to take her again when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Looking over to see who was calling. His jaw ticked. “It’s Peters.”
And just like that, the softness of the morning evaporated.
Roman grabbed the phone, rolling out of bed with a muttered curse. “Peters.”
Blair sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to her chest, the chill of the room suddenly more noticeable. Her skin prickled. Roman didn’t say anything right away, but she could tell from the stillness in his shoulders that it wasn’t good.
“Are you sure?” Roman’s tone had sharpened. “Yeah. Email it to me. Blair and I will watch it.”
He ended the call with a short swipe and just stood there for a second, his jaw locked so tight she could see the tension radiating off him.
Blair leaned forward, her stomach twisting. “What is it?”
Roman didn’t answer immediately. He crossed the room, grabbed the sweatpants draped over the armchair, and tugged. them on like he needed something–anything–to keep his hands busy.
“Roman,” she pressed, voice tighter now. “Tell me.”
He looked at her then. Really looked at her. “Peters pulled something from the second attempt. The one with the falling debris.”
stone. “What kind of something?”
ar–unmarked–parked across the street from the building twenty minutes before you were almost led away right after the incident. No plates. But we’ve enhanced the image and ran a facial.”
chilled. Her hands clenched around the blanket. “And?”
e exhaled, slow and controlled. “We don’t know the driver. But the guy’s connected to someone. We just need to find out who.”
She blinked hard. “Someone like who? Jessica?”
Roman hesitated. “No… I don’t know. It could be anyone. If they’re not doing it themselves, maybe they hired someone. I need to get my hands on him.”
Her pulse thumped in her ears. Her vision went a little blurry. “Are you saying this could be a hitman?”
Roman crossed to her, crouched in front of her, his hands gripping her knees. “This could be the kind of dangerous that doesn’t leave loose ends. Someone who will keep coming unless we find them–or whoever’s paying them.”
She sat frozen. That pressure in her chest was back. That tight, clawing feeling she’d been trying to ignore since the party. Since the hospital. Since this all started. “But why me?” she whispered, like the words were choking her on the way out. “I haven’t done anything to anyone.”
“I know,” Roman said. “And we’re going to figure it out. I promise you.”
She stared at him, heart thudding wildly. “What do we do now?”
Roman’s voice turned cold. Measured. “We go on the defensive. I’m going to draw this
guy out.”
1/3
Chapter 63
“You’re using yourself as bait?” Her voice cracked.
”
“I’ll protect you.” he said, eyes hard, unwavering. “And when we find out who sent him, I’ll make damn sure they regret it.”
Blair reached for his hand, grounding herself. But even his warmth couldn’t chase the cold settling in her chest. “Roman… we’re getting married. I don’t want to plan a wedding with a target on my back.”
“I’m planning the wedding, remember you just need to worry about the dress. This is one of the reasons I want to move fast,” he said, brushing his thumb over hers. “So if anything happens, we have the power to make decisions for each other. No red tape. No waiting. No loopholes. No family stopping us.”
Blair frowned, her chest tightening. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “Let’s set a date.”
Roman’s expression shifted just slightly. The relief in his eyes was quiet, but unmistakable. He leaned in, kissed her once, gentle and sure. “Soon,” he whispered. “Very soon. How about two weeks from today?”
“Ok.”
Roman didn’t say much as they came downstairs, and Blair didn’t push. She didn’t have the energy.
After they’d sorted breakfast, she perched on a stool at the island while Roman opened his laptop and pulled up the email from Peters. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen, but neither of them touched their mugs. Their plates sat barely touched. They hadn’t felt like eating.
Roman clicked on the attachment, his jaw tight. Grainy footage filled the screen–a quiet side street, the shadow of a car. A man stepping out, checking his phone. Cool. Calm. Mechanical. Then getting back in, driving off just after the debris had fallen.
He paused the video and zoomed in.
“Peters pulled this off a secondary camera two blocks away,” he said quietly. “It’s not clean, but the angle was decent enough for a partial facial enhancement.”
Blair leaned in as he turned the laptop toward her. She squinted at the image. The guy’s face was a blur, but the structure was there–sharp jaw, tight mouth, nose that looked like it had been broken before.
Her throat was dry. She tried to focus, tried to breathe. “Do you recognize him?” Roman asked.
She stared. Tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to be useful.
But she shook her head. “No,” she said hoarsely. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Roman just stared at her for a beat. Then turned the screen back toward himself and tapped at the keys.
Blair cupped her mug with both hands, letting the heat bleed into her palms even though her stomach was roiling. “What happens if we can’t ID him?”
Roman didn’t look up. “We keep going until we do. But you don’t go anywhere without protection.”
She nodded, because what else was there to do? But in her chest, the fear clawed a little deeper. Whoever this man was–he’d watched her. Followed her. Tried to kill her. And she didn’t even know his name.
She’d never felt so vulnerable in her life.
