Chapter 1 - THE CARNATIONS ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER
“I noticed long before he did.”
Roman Costa's words hung in the dark kitchen.
Sadi stared at the flowers scattered across the marble.
Pink carnations.
Their stems were bent.
Their petals soaked.
The water from the overturned vase had reached the edge of the counter and begun dripping onto the floor.
She could hear each drop.
One.
Two.
Three.
Roman stood opposite her, watching.
Sadi swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “You know what it means.”
Her cheeks warmed.
She looked away.
Roman Costa was forty years old, the most feared mafia boss in New York, and the owner of the mansion where she'd worked for three years.
He was a man who could make powerful people disappear from a room simply by entering it.
And now he was standing in his kitchen at two in the morning, asking questions about flowers.
Sadi bent to gather the carnations.
“Leave them.”
She froze.
Roman's voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
Sadi straightened.
“Sir, they're mine.”
He stared at her.
She continued.
“Toby gave them to me.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“And?”
“And you had no right to destroy them.”
Silence.
For a moment, she thought she'd gone too far.
Then Roman looked down at the flowers.
Something changed in his expression.
He seemed almost surprised.
As though he'd expected fear.
Not defiance.
Sadi's hands trembled.
But she didn't apologize.
Roman stepped back.
“You're right.”
She blinked.
He looked at the wet counter.
“I shouldn't have touched them.”
Sadi stared.
Roman Costa had just apologized.
Not elegantly.
Not warmly.
But unmistakably.
He turned toward the doorway.
Then paused.
“Don't throw them away.”
Sadi looked at him.
“Why?”
He hesitated.
Then said, “Because I want to know why someone left a message inside the stems.”
Her blood ran cold.
“A message?”
Roman turned back.
May you like
And for the first time that night, his expression was no longer jealous.
It was afraid.
