Chapter 1 - The Silver Gala and the First CrackThe air inside the Met's grand exhibition hall hummed with the quiet confidence of New York royalty.
Yet beneath the public theater, the invisible wall between them felt thinner, more fragile.
When Roman’s hand settled at the small of her back as they greeted the city’s district attorney, his touch was warm enough to send a shiver down her spine. It wasn't the cold, performative grip he used during their first weeks together. It possessed a possessive weight, a subconscious instinct that declared her his in every room, to every man who dared look twice.
"You're quiet tonight," Roman murmured low against her ear as the curator of the exhibit droned on about Renaissance bronzes.
"I'm saving my voice for when we're alone," Elena replied smoothly, not breaking her warm smile for the cameras. "Or do rules dictate I remain mute in private too?"
Roman’s jaw tightened. A muscle twitched near his temple. "You test me constantly, Elena."
"Because you expect me to break, Roman. And I don't bend easily."
Before he could answer, Victor Vance—one of Roman’s most notorious rivals in Manhattan real estate and municipal logistics—stepped into their path. Vance’s smile was slick, his eyes lingering on Elena with an insolent appreciation that made Roman’s hand instantly clench into a hard fist at his side.
"Roman. And the stunning Mrs. Blackwell," Vance purred, raising his champagne glass. "I must say, your father made quite the bargain when he handed you such exquisite collateral, Blackwell. Though I wonder... does she know how deep the Whitmore shipping debts really go?"
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Elena froze. Her father’s debts? She had known there were financial troubles, had known that was why her hand was traded away like a corporate asset, but hearing Vance weaponize it publicly exposed a raw nerve.
Roman didn't flinch. His voice dropped into that dark, lethal register that made hardened gangsters lower their eyes. "Vance. Finish your champagne and walk away before I decide to repossess your holdings in Queens by midnight. You are breathing too close to my wife."
