They never reached Denver that night.

The storm closed the highway.

The airport hotel had one suite remaining.

Roman gave Norah the bedroom.

He took the couch.

At 2:13 a.m., Isabella began crying.

Roman sat up immediately.

Norah appeared carrying her.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Give her to me.”

“You need sleep.”

“So do you.”

She hesitated.

Then handed Isabella over.

Roman walked slowly beside the Christmas tree in the small living room.

“She's fed?”

“Yes.”

“Changed?”

“Yes.”

“So why is she crying?”

“Because babies cry, Roman.”

“That seems inefficient.”

Norah smiled tiredly.

“Welcome to parenting.”

Isabella grabbed Roman's tie.

Roman looked down.

“That's silk.”

Norah laughed.

“She doesn't care.”

Roman removed it and tossed it aside.

His collar loosened, exposing more of the dark tattoos along his neck.

Norah watched him.

This was the man she remembered.

And somehow not the man she remembered.

“Roman?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn't you remarry?”

He looked surprised.

“I was married.”

“Was.”

“You leaving didn't change that in my head.”

Norah looked away.

“I thought you'd hate me.”

“I did.”

She looked back.

“For months.”

“And now?”

Roman stared at Isabella.

“Now I understand.”

Norah folded her arms.

“Understand what?”

“You weren't punishing me.”

“No.”

“You were terrified.”

“Yes.”

“Of me.”

“Of what followed you.”

Roman nodded.

“I should've known the difference.”

His phone buzzed.

A message from Carlo.

BRENNAN AGREED. NO RETALIATION. MEETING AFTER CHRISTMAS.

Roman showed Norah.

She read it twice.

“You did this?”

“Yes.”

“For them?”

Roman looked at her.

“For all three of you.”

Norah shook her head.

“Don't change for me.”

“I’m not.”

“Roman—”

“You left me once. You could leave again.”

His voice remained quiet.

“But those two are going to grow up. Someday Leo is going to ask what his father does. Isabella is going to wonder why men lower their voices when my name comes up.”

Roman glanced down.

“I don't want to lie to them.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Moretti Logistics becomes legitimate.”

Norah stared.

“That isn't possible overnight.”

“No.”

“It could take years.”

“Then it takes years.”

“And your people?”

“They'll adapt.”

“And if they don't?”

Roman's old expression surfaced for half a second.

Norah raised an eyebrow.

He sighed.

“They'll receive generous severance packages.”

She almost laughed.

“Very intimidating.”

“I'm learning.”

Isabella finally fell asleep.

Roman lowered himself carefully onto the couch.

Norah sat opposite him.

“Merry Christmas, Roman.”

He looked at the sleeping child.

Then toward the bedroom where Leo slept.

For the first time in years, Roman smiled without calculation.

“Merry Christmas, Norah.”

---