Chapter 4: The Alibi Holds

Dinner was a surreal blur of expensive wine, dry chicken, and delicious psychological warfare.

Whenever Derek tried to steer the conversation toward his new job in finance, Roman effortlessly dismantled him by discussing international shipping logistics and corporate acquisitions with terrifying precision. Derek quickly fell silent, shrinking back into his chair while his fiancée desperately tried to change the subject to wedding planning.

Sadi ate her meal with a voracious, unashamed appetite. For once, she didn’t care if she looked dainty. She ate the steak, she finished her potatoes, and she accepted a second glass of champagne from Roman without a second thought.

Every time she looked up, Roman was watching her.

Not with judgment. Not with pity.

With an intensity that made her breath catch.

By 9:30 PM, the rehearsal dinner was winding down. Guests were beginning to mill about, drinking coffee and congratulating the couple.

Eleanor Miller practically sprinted over to their table, her face tight with a mixture of terror and desperate curiosity.

“Roman, darling,” Eleanor forced a twitchy smile, wringing her hands. “I had no idea you two were… well, Sadi never mentioned your line of work. What is it that you do?”

Roman stood up slowly, towering over Eleanor. He adjusted his cuffs with agonizing slowness.

“I solve problems, Mrs. Miller,” Roman said evenly. “Usually permanently.”

Eleanor’s smile froze on her face. She blinked, opened her mouth, and then wisely closed it, taking a rapid step backward.

“We have to leave,” Roman said, turning his gaze to Sadi and offering his hand once more. “My schedule is demanding.”

Sadi stood, smoothing down her green dress. She looked over at Derek, who wouldn’t even meet her eyes, and then at her mother, who looked like she wanted to cry.

“It was wonderful seeing you all,” Sadi said sweetly.

As they walked out of the country club ballroom and into the cool Chicago night air, the heavy weight that had sat on Sadi’s chest for two years simply evaporated.

She leaned against the side of the matte-black SUV as Roman unlocked the doors.

“Well,” Sadi said, looking up at him through the dim streetlamps. “Your alibi worked. I’m assuming fifty witnesses saw you eating dry chicken and terrorizing my ex.”

Roman opened the passenger door, but instead of stepping back, he paused, standing very close to her. The massive bulk of his body blocked her in against the vehicle.

“The alibi was airtight,” Roman agreed quietly.

“And the Morettis?” Sadi asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“My men handled it,” Roman said simply. “Clean. Quiet. Finished by 8:00 PM.”

Sadi stared at him. Despite everything—despite knowing exactly what kind of monster he was—she felt completely safe standing in front of him.

“You didn’t have to do this, Roman,” she said softly. “You could have just given me the night off.”

Roman reached out. His large, warm hand cupped her jawline, his thumb gently tracing her cheekbone. His touch was shockingly tender for a man who traded in blood and violence.

“Everything is a transaction, Sadi,” he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You needed a boyfriend for one night.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her lips.

“I think I’d like to extend the contract.”

Sadi’s heart skipped a violent beat.

“Is that an order, Mr. Rossi?” she whispered.

Roman’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile—slow, dark, and devastatingly handsome.

“No, Sadi,” he murmured just before his lips met hers. “That’s a promise.”