Chapter 3: The Lion at Table Four

The Oakridge Country Club ballroom was a nightmare of white tulle, fairy lights, and clinking crystal.

Voices hummed in a dull, expensive drone. Waiters in waistcoats wove between tables carrying trays of champagne.

Sadi walked in with Roman’s hand securely resting on the small of her back. The warmth of his palm radiated straight through the heavy emerald silk of her dress, grounding her.

As they entered, the ambient noise in the room seemed to drop by half a decibel.

People noticed Roman Rossi.

Even those who did not know his face recognized the sheer, oppressive gravity that followed him. He moved with the predatory grace of an apex predator walking through a petting zoo—calm, completely relaxed, but entirely lethal.

“Sadi!”

A sharp, breathless voice cut through the air.

Sadi’s mother, Eleanor Miller, hurried over, her silk blouse rustling aggressively. Her eyes were wide, fixed frantically on Roman before flickering down to Sadi.

“Sadi, thank goodness you’re here, but what on earth—the seating chart was printed three days ago—and who is—”

“Mother,” Sadi interrupted, her voice surprisingly steady. “This is Roman. Roman, my mother.”

Roman offered a polite, utterly chilling nod. He did not smile, but his posture radiated polished, untouchable confidence.

“Mrs. Miller. A pleasure. Sadi has told me so much about you.”

Eleanor looked as though she had swallowed a lemon. She blinked rapidly, her gaze darting from Roman’s expensive tailored suit to his sharp, unblinking eyes.

“Oh! Well… hello. I wasn’t aware… Sadi never mentioned…”

“We value our privacy,” Roman said smoothly, his hand sliding slightly higher on Sadi’s back, pressing her a fraction of an inch closer to his side. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were told we’re at table four.”

“Table four?” Eleanor squeaked. “But that’s—that’s where Derek and Chloe are sitting!”

“Splendid,” Roman said without missing a beat. “I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

Before Eleanor could protest further, Roman guided Sadi past her toward the center of the room.

Table four occupied prime real estate near the head table. As Sadi approached, she felt her stomach do a violent flip.

There he was.

Derek.

He sat in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, laughing at something his new fiancée was whispering to him.

Chloe looked like she had been drawn with a sharp HB pencil—long limbs, straight blonde hair pulled into a sleek chignon, and a strapless ivory dress that showed off collarbones sharp enough to cut glass.

Then, Derek looked up.

His eyes landed on Sadi.

For a split second, recognition flickered across his face, followed quickly by polite, dismissive condescension. Then his gaze shifted to the man walking beside her.

Derek’s smile vanished.

The color drained from his face as he took in Roman Rossi—the height, the expensive cut of the suit, the unmistakable aura of raw, unbridled power.

Sadi held her head high. She slid her hand from Roman’s back and looped her arm through his, pressing her shoulder against his solid chest. She looked right at Derek.

Not with shame.

With pity.

Derek choked slightly on his glass of water as they reached the table.

“Sadi,” Derek managed, standing up awkwardly. “I—hi. I didn’t know you were bringing…” He trailed off, looking helplessly at Roman.

Roman did not offer his hand. He simply pulled out a chair for Sadi, waiting until she was seated before taking the seat directly beside her, his thigh brushing hers beneath the white tablecloth.

“Roman Rossi,” Roman said, his voice deep and gravelly, cutting through the murmurs of the table like a knife through silk. He looked Derek up and down with clinical detachment, as if evaluating a used car not worth buying. “You must be Derek.”

Derek swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Uh. Yeah. And you are…?”

“Sadi’s boyfriend,” Roman replied smoothly, picking up his water glass and taking a slow sip. “She talks about you all the time.”

Sadi had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to keep from laughing out loud.

Chloe, noticing the tension, blinked her wide blue eyes and leaned forward, flashing a bright, brittle smile.

“Oh! I didn’t realize Sadi was seeing anyone! You two look so… cozy. How long have you been together?”

Chloe’s tone dripped with the kind of condescending sweetness meant to highlight how long Sadi had supposedly been single.

Before Sadi could answer, Roman turned his head slowly toward Chloe.

The look in his dark eyes was so utterly devoid of warmth that Chloe actually flinched back.

“Long enough to know what real value looks like,” Roman said softly.

The table went dead silent.

Derek’s face flushed a deep, ugly shade of crimson. He sat back down abruptly, staring fixedly at his water glass.

Across the room, Eleanor Miller was fanning herself with a cocktail napkin, looking like she was about to pass out.

Sadi turned her head toward Roman, her heart hammering against her ribs. In the dim, romantic lighting of the ballroom, he looked magnificent. He turned to her, and for the briefest fraction of a second, the cold mask slipped.

A tiny, dark spark of amusement danced in his eyes.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Are they regretting their life choices yet?” he murmured.

Sadi shivered, the scent of cedar washing over her.

“Oh,” she whispered back, a slow, genuine smile spreading across her face for the first time in years. “They’re having an existential crisis.”