Chapter 5 - THE RULE ROMAN BROKE
For the next hour, she stood in the corner.
Her feet hurt.
Her wrist ached.
She watched the game.
It was not friendly.
Tension hung thickly in the smoke-filled room, and Donovan was losing badly. Chips steadily migrated across the green felt toward Roman.
Roman played with mechanical precision.
He did not smile.
He did not gloat.
He simply bet, called, and took the money.
“I need another,” Donovan barked, slamming his empty glass down.
Paige approached and picked it up.
“Same again?”
Donovan finally turned toward her.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of sour sweat and expensive cologne.
“Are you deaf? I said I need another.”
He reached out and grabbed her right wrist.
The pressure landed directly on the bruised, inflamed tendon.
Paige gasped.
Her knees nearly buckled under the sudden, blinding spike of pain.
She tried to pull away, but Donovan’s grip tightened.
“Hey,” he slurred, dragging her closer. “I’m talking to you.”
“Let go of me.”
She did not scream.
She did not plead.
Her voice was flat, hard, and exhausted.
“I just poured the Scotch. Let go of my arm.”
Donovan scoffed.
“Feisty little waitress. Where do you find her, Roman?”
“Donovan.”
Roman did not raise his voice.
He did not need to.
The room waited for Roman to finish the sentence. Paige could hear the ticking of an antique clock over the air conditioner. Donovan's fingers remained locked around her wrist, and she understood that whatever Roman did next would decide whether every man at the table regarded her as a person or an object that could be passed around. She pulled once more. The pain made her vision sparkle.
“Take your hand off her,” Roman said.
Donovan grinned without releasing her. “Since when do you collect strays?”
Roman placed his cards face down. “Since you forgot the rules of my house.”
Luca crossed the room. Donovan released Paige before Luca touched him, but the damage had already been done. She backed against the bar, cradling her wrist. Roman rose and told Luca to escort Donovan out. No one objected. As the door closed, Roman turned to Paige, and for the first time she saw something crack through his composure: not rage, but an unmistakable flash of regret.
Mrs. Bell appeared with a chair, but Paige remained standing until she was sure Donovan had left the property. Roman kept a respectful distance. She expected an apology full of excuses about the guest being drunk or important. Instead, he asked whether she wanted to file a report and offered the house security footage. Paige said yes. Luca looked surprised, then nodded and went to retrieve it.
May you like
The simple fact of being believed unsettled her. It did not make Roman safe, and it did not erase his choice to invite dangerous men into his home. But it gave her a measure of control she had not possessed ten minutes earlier. She sat at last, pressed the ice pack against her wrist, and decided she would not be silent simply because the room belonged to him.
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