Roman hadn't said a word since they got home.
Serene had retreated to their bedroom—his bedroom, now theirs—still shaken, still silent. But Roman didn't follow.
Instead, he walked into the basement.
The private one.
The one Serene didn't know existed.
A single bare bulb swung overhead as Roman peeled off his jacket, blood still staining the cuffs of his white shirt. His hands shook—but not with regret.
No.
He felt calm. Focused.
The man who touched her—the stranger—he thought he was untouchable. A spoiled millionaire brat from old money. Roman knew his name now. Darren Kessler. He'd already made the call. One of his men had followed the bastard home.
Roman lit a cigarette, exhaled slowly. Touch my Serene, he thought, and I'll erase your entire existence.
By dawn, Darren had been taken.
Tied to a metal chair in a warehouse not far from the city, shivering and bleeding, he asked the one question that made Roman smile:
"Why?"
Roman crouched in front of him, his face unreadable. "Because you touched my wife."
"I—I didn't even—!"
"You looked at her," Roman growled, voice low and venomous. "You followed her. You spoke to her. You made her afraid. And now I'm going to make sure you remember exactly what that feels like."
He didn't scream at first.
But Roman was patient.
And when the sun finally rose—when Serene stirred from the silk sheets upstairs, blinking away sleep—Darren was already gone. His name blacklisted. His accounts frozen. His mansion reduced to ash.
---
Later that morning.
Roman sat on the edge of their bed, shirtless, bruised knuckles wrapped in gauze. Serene hadn't noticed yet. She was brushing her hair slowly, a distant look in her eyes.
"You slept well," Roman murmured.
Serene nodded. "I… tried to."
He stood, moved behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders.
"You're safe now," he whispered against her neck. "I'll never let anyone scare you again."
She nodded again, too quickly.
And that was when she saw it.
The bandages.
"What happened to your hands?"
Roman paused, then smiled. "I got rid of the problem."
Her eyes widened. "Roman—what did you do?"
He kissed her temple. "What I had to. I promised you a perfect life. That means no threats. No shadows. No doubt."
She didn't respond.
He turned her chair to face him, kneeling so their eyes met.
"Serene," he said softly, "I love you so much it burns. If anyone ever tries to take you from me—even look at you like you don't belong right here—I'll destroy them."
Her heart thundered.
"I don't need your forgiveness," he added. "Just your presence. Stay. That's all I want."
She didn't move.
He kissed her lips gently. Once. Twice.
Then he rose, buttoned his shirt slowly, and said, "I'm taking you somewhere tonight."
"Again?"
"A place that belongs to me. A place I want to share only with you."
She swallowed. "What kind of place?"
He smiled without warmth.
"You'll see."
---