Chapter 8 - THE DINNER WHERE NO ONE OWED ANYONE
Their first date was terrible.
Roman chose a restaurant so expensive the menu had no prices.
Morgana closed it after thirty seconds.
“No.”
“What?”
“You're doing billionaire cosplay.”
“I'm not a billionaire.”
“Same problem.”
Roman looked offended.
“I thought this was nice.”
“It is.”
“Then?”
“I can't pay half here without selling blood.”
He understood.
They left.
Ate burgers at a twenty-four-hour place.
Morgana paid for her own.
Roman complained about the coffee.
She reminded him he drank Costa club espresso made by men who feared disappointing him.
“That improved quality.”
“No. It improved anxiety.”
He laughed.
The date became easy.
That scared her.
Outside, Roman asked:
“May I kiss you?”
Morgana stared.
“You really ask every time?”
“Until you tell me not to.”
Her throat tightened.
“Okay.”
He kissed her.
Gentle.
Short.
Then stepped back.
No taking.
No assumption.
Morgana thought of Jason bargaining over her life at the kitchen table.
Then Roman asking permission for something as small as a kiss.
She cried.
Roman immediately backed away.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You didn't do anything wrong.”
She wiped her face.
“That's why I'm crying.”
He understood enough not to fix it.
Months passed.
Enzo’s case moved toward trial.
Evidence tied him to Gabriel’s murder, Elena’s death, pension theft and numerous financial crimes.
Jason’s testimony corroborated key events.
No one needed Morgana to testify unless she wanted to.
She chose to provide a victim-impact statement later.
Not for revenge.
For record.
My mother’s name was Elena.
That was how it began.
She was not collateral damage in a feud. She was a twenty-four-year-old mother trying to leave an abusive husband and protect her child.
Roman sat behind her in court.
Not beside.
Her space.
Jason Blake was supposed to protect us. Instead he sold information about my mother because he wanted money and control. Years later, he tried to sell me too.
Jason stared down.
Good.
I spent most of my life believing survival meant staying quiet until the dangerous person calmed down. My mother tried something different. She created evidence. She left me choices.
Morgana looked toward Enzo.
You took her life. You do not get mine.
That was all.
She sat.
Roman did not touch her until she reached for his hand first.
Enzo was eventually convicted on multiple counts.
The exact sentence mattered less to Morgana than she expected.
Decades.
Enough.
Jason received a lesser sentence after cooperation, but still faced years of incarceration and restitution.
Morgana accepted neither apology he sent.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
She learned that refusing a letter was also a choice.
Roman’s life changed too.
Investigations into Costa businesses continued.
He cooperated on crimes tied to Enzo but did not receive magical immunity for everything his organization had done.
Several operations were shut.
Others sold.
He paid enormous penalties.
One night, he told Morgana:
“I may lose half of what I own.”
She looked around her tiny apartment.
“Tragic.”
He laughed.
“You have no sympathy.”
“You still own enough suits to finance a small nation.”
“Fair.”
Then he became serious.
“What if I lose the house?”
“Which one?”
“My main residence.”
“Then get an apartment.”
“You make catastrophe sound ordinary.”
“Most catastrophe becomes paperwork eventually.”
He smiled.
“Marry me.”
Morgana froze.
Roman froze too.
“I did not mean to say that.”
“Excellent proposal.”
“No.”
He stood.
“Forget it.”
She started laughing.
“Roman.”
“I am not proposing in your kitchen while holding takeout noodles.”
“Why not?”
“Because Teresa would kill me.”
Fair.
He sat again.
Morgana watched him.
“Not yet.”
He looked at her.
“That isn't no.”
“No.”
Hope crossed his face.
She pointed a chopstick.
“Do not become unbearable.”
“Impossible.”
For once, the future did not feel like a trap.
May you like
It felt unfinished.
That was much better.
