Chapter 1 - The Man in the Shadows
At two in the morning, Sadi Miller discovered there were worse things than crying in your employer’s kitchen.
One of them was discovering your employer had heard every word.
She stood over the marble counter of the Rossi estate with a half-eaten pastry trembling in one hand and tears burning beneath her eyes.
Her mother’s latest message still glowed on the phone beside the sink.
Derek and Amanda will be at table four.
I put you at table twelve, near the kitchen.
Please don’t make Chloe’s rehearsal dinner uncomfortable.
Near the kitchen.
Sadi almost laughed.
She already spent fourteen hours a day near kitchens.
Apparently even when she was a guest, her family believed that was where she belonged.
She wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand.
“I need a boyfriend by tomorrow.”
The words sounded even more pathetic after they left her mouth.
Then a man’s voice came from behind her.
“What time?”
Sadi nearly dropped the pastry.
Roman Rossi stood in the doorway.
Six foot three.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair pushed carelessly backward.
Black shirt open enough at the throat to reveal the edges of tattoos curling over his chest and neck.
He looked less like a billionaire tonight and more like the reason billionaires hired private security.
Sadi swallowed.
“Mr. Rossi.”
“What time is the dinner?”
“You heard that?”
“I’m standing twelve feet away.”
She stared at him.
Roman walked into the kitchen.
Sadi immediately became conscious of everything she hated being conscious of.
Her gray maid’s uniform.
The white apron pulling too tightly around her waist.
Her messy bun.
Her swollen eyes.
The half-eaten pastry in her hand.
Roman’s gaze moved to it.
Sadi put it down.
His eyes returned to hers.
“Why did you do that?”
“What?”
“Put down the pastry.”
She blinked.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“You were eating it.”
“I changed my mind.”
Roman said nothing.
That silence somehow embarrassed her more.
Sadi turned toward the sink.
“Please forget everything you heard.”
“No.”
She looked back.
“No?”
“I have an excellent memory.”
“You’re very comforting.”
“I’ve never been accused of that.”
Despite herself, Sadi almost smiled.
Roman came to the island and picked up her phone.
She reached for it.
“That’s private.”
He did not unlock it.
He only read the notification already visible on the screen.
“Table twelve.”
His expression hardened slightly.
“Near the kitchen.”
“Give me my phone.”
He did.
Sadi tucked it against her chest.
Roman studied her.
“Who is Derek?”
“My ex.”
“The idiot who left you?”
She stared.
“How do you know he left me?”
“I know who works in my house.”
“That is deeply creepy.”
“It is efficient.”
“He left two years ago.”
“For?”
Sadi hesitated.
Then laughed bitterly.
“For somebody who ‘took better care of herself.’”
Roman’s eyes went still.
Sadi wished immediately she had lied.
“He meant thinner,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t understand.”
“I understood.”
“He’s engaged now.”
“To?”
“A Pilates instructor.”
Roman nodded as though receiving intelligence before a military operation.
Sadi frowned.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because you said you need a boyfriend.”
“I was talking to myself.”
“And yet your standards apparently remain flexible.”
She stared at him.
Roman took the untouched pastry, placed it back in her hand, and said, “Finish that.”
“What?”
“You were hungry thirty seconds ago.”
Sadi’s face heated.
“Are you ordering me to eat?”
“I’m ordering my employee to stop letting people who aren’t in this room control what she does in it.”
That silenced her.
Roman walked toward the refrigerator, opened it, and poured water into a glass.
Sadi watched him.
“You’re being weird.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She took a reluctant bite.
Roman drank.
Then he said, “I’ll go.”
Sadi stopped chewing.
“Where?”
“The rehearsal dinner.”
“With who?”
He looked at her.
The realization arrived slowly.
“No.”
Roman set down the glass.
“You said you need a boyfriend.”
“I did not mean you.”
“Insulting.”
“You own half of Chicago.”
“Less than half.”
“That was not the reassuring correction you thought it was.”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Roman Rossi did not smile often enough for Sadi to be certain she had seen it.
She crossed her arms.
“Why?”
“I need to be somewhere public tomorrow night.”
Her suspicion sharpened.
“Why?”
“Business.”
“That sounds illegal.”
“Most business does if described honestly.”
“Roman.”
It was the first time she had used his first name.
Both noticed.
Roman leaned against the island.
“There is a meeting tomorrow that I would prefer not to attend.”
“So you want me to be your excuse?”
“Yes.”
“At my sister’s rehearsal dinner?”
“Yes.”
“With my mother?”
“I’ve survived federal grand juries.”
“My mother is worse.”
“I’ll take the risk.”
A laugh escaped her.
She covered it instantly.
Roman’s gaze softened by one degree.
Sadi shook her head.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“My family will ask questions.”
“I’ll answer them.”
“You’ll terrify everyone.”
“I can be charming.”
“I’ve worked here eleven months. I have no evidence supporting that statement.”
This time Roman definitely smiled.
Small.
Gone almost instantly.
Sadi looked away.
That was worse than the intimidation.
Because for half a second he had looked human.
“If you do this,” she said, “there are rules.”
Roman raised an eyebrow.
“No guns.”
Silence.
“Roman.”
“Fine.”
“No threatening Derek.”
“Define threatening.”
“No making him believe he’s going to die.”
“That removes most of my conversational range.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“And you have to act like you actually like me.”
Roman looked at her for a long moment.
Something changed in his face.
“That will be the easiest part.”
Sadi’s breath caught.
Before she could decide whether he was mocking her, Roman straightened.
“What time?”
“Six.”
“I’ll arrive at five forty-five.”
“Why?”
“Because arriving on time means arriving late.”
“Rich people are exhausting.”
Roman walked toward the doorway.
“Sadi.”
She looked up.
“Tell your mother to move us to table four.”
Her mouth fell open.
He disappeared into the hallway.
The following evening, Sadi stood in front of her apartment mirror wearing an emerald dress she had purchased months ago and never found the courage to wear.
She had once promised herself she would lose fifteen pounds first.
She had not.
Tonight, for the first time, she wondered why the dress had ever needed her to.
It fit.
Not apologetically.
Beautifully.
At 5:43, a black SUV stopped outside.
Sadi looked through the blinds.
Roman stepped out himself.
Dark navy suit.
White shirt open at the throat.
No tie.
No visible weapon.
Thank God.
He looked up toward her window as if he knew exactly where she stood.
Sadi went downstairs.
Roman saw her.
Then stopped.
For a man famous for never being caught unprepared, the silence lasted a surprisingly long time.
Sadi immediately touched the side of her dress.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then why are you staring?”
Roman’s eyes met hers.
“Because I spent eleven months seeing you in gray.”
Sadi’s stomach tightened.
“And?”
His gaze traveled over the emerald fabric before returning respectfully to her face.
“Gray was wasting your time.”
For once, Sadi Miller had absolutely nothing to say.
Roman opened the passenger door.
She climbed in.
Thirty minutes later, the country club came into view beneath strings of white Christmas lights.
Sadi’s anxiety returned instantly.
Roman noticed.
“You can still change your mind.”
She looked at him.
“I thought Roman Rossi never retreated.”
“I didn’t say I would leave.”
He turned off the engine.
“I said you could.”
That distinction stayed with her as they entered the building.
The first person Sadi saw was Derek.
He was standing beside his fiancée near table four.
His smile disappeared when he saw Roman.
Then Sadi’s mother turned.
The wineglass in her hand nearly slipped.
Roman placed one calm hand against the small of Sadi’s back.
Not possessive.
Steady.
Her mother stared.
“Sadi…”
Sadi swallowed.
“Mom.”
Roman’s eyes moved to the seating chart.
Table twelve still had Sadi’s name.
Beside the kitchen.
Roman looked at her mother.
Then at Sadi.
His voice was perfectly polite.
“I believe there’s been a mistake.”
And from across the ballroom, a man Sadi had never seen before went pale at the sight of Roman Rossi.
Roman noticed him too.
His hand left Sadi’s back.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“What?”
May you like
Roman’s eyes stayed on the stranger.
“My evening just became complicated.”
