The silence left in Arthur’s frantic wake was heavier than the cold rain beginning to drum against the diner's cracked windows.

Arthur had scrambled out the door so fast his camel-hair coat caught on the doorframe, leaving him stumbling into the dark street like a man running from his own execution. He knew he was a dead man walking—if not tonight, then the moment Roman Moretti’s legal team formally reviewed the rest of his holdings.

Inside the Starlight Diner, Roman didn't look at the door. He slowly pulled a clean white handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped a microscopic drop of coffee from the mahogany edge of his silver pen.

Sadi stood frozen beside the booth. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. The adrenaline that had propelled her to speak was wearing off, leaving behind a cold, terrifying reality: she had just humiliated a mob boss’s business partner and intercepted a federal trap.

"Sit down, Sadi," Roman said quietly.

It wasn't a command wrapped in violence, but it carried the weight of a man who rarely had to ask twice.

Sadi hesitated, her fingers twitching near her apron pocket. "I'm on shift. My manager—"

"Your manager is currently asleep in his office behind a locked door," Roman interrupted smoothly, gesturing toward the back hallway. "And as of three minutes ago, I own this building, the land beneath it, and the mortgage on your manager’s house. Sit down."

Sadi swallowed hard and slid into the vinyl booth across from him—the exact seat Arthur had occupied moments earlier.

Roman studied her across the formica table. Up close, under the harsh glare of the neon lights, he saw more than just an exhausted waitress. He saw the razor-sharp intellect buried beneath three years of survival. He saw a woman who had analyzed a complex, forty-page corporate trap in five seconds while pouring coffee.

"Why didn't you let me sign it?" Roman asked, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. His dark eyes locked onto hers with unsettling intensity. "Arthur would have walked out of here thinking he won. In my world, letting an enemy think he's smart right before you crush him is standard procedure. You ruined my surprise."

"You weren't going to crush him," Sadi replied, her voice steadying despite the tremor in her hands. "You were skimming. You read the headings and the numbers. You trusted that he was too afraid of you to try a move like that. If I hadn't stopped you, your thumb would have been on that line, and by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, the Eastern District Federal Prosecutor would have issued an arrest warrant for you."

Roman stared at her for three long seconds. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his sharp features—a real smile this time, reaching his eyes.

"Three years of law school," Roman mused softly. "Where?"

"Columbia," Sadi said flatly. "Top five percent of my class."

"And why are you scrubbing ketchup off vinyl at 2:00 a.m.?"

"My mother got sick," Sadi said, her tone clipping short to prevent any pity. "Cancer doesn't care about GPA. The insurance company found a loophole in her coverage, the bills stacked up to six figures, and I had to choose between tuition and her chemotherapy. I chose her. She died six months ago, and I’m still paying off the debt."

Roman didn't offer empty condolences. He respected the cold, mathematical reality of her sacrifice.

He reached inside his suit jacket, pulled out a sleek leather wallet, and extracted a heavy, unadorned black card. He slid it across the sticky table until it rested against her coffee mug.

"Your mother’s debts are paid as of tonight," Roman said calmly.

Sadi blinked, looking from the card to his face. "What?"

"I don't leave debts unpaid, Sadi. You saved me from a federal indictment that would have cost me fifty million dollars and three years in a prison cell. A cup of coffee and a warning is worth far more than whatever medical debt you're carrying."

He leaned closer, his deep baritone dropping an octave.

"Tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m., a car will pick you up at your apartment. You are coming to Moretti Enterprises downtown. You're going to finish your law degree on my payroll, and until you pass the bar, you are my personal corporate advisor."

Sadi stared at the black card. It felt heavier than lead. "And if I say no?"

Roman stood up, buttoning his charcoal suit jacket with practiced ease. He looked down at her with a quiet, absolute certainty.

"You won't say no, Sadi," Roman murmured. "Because you're too smart to stay in a room that's too small for your mind."