9 - WHY ROMAN REALLY CALLED ME HIS FIANCÉE
I left the room.
Not dramatically.
I just could not breathe inside it anymore.
Roman followed after thirty seconds.
Not immediately.
Enough time for it to be my choice whether I wanted company.
I stood near the service balcony overlooking Manhattan.
“Was the fiancée thing planned?”
“No.”
“You’re very good at lying quickly.”
“I negotiate for a living.”
I almost smiled.
Then looked at him.
“Why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You found my name six weeks ago.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated Damian.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was here tonight.”
“Yes.”
That stopped me.
“How?”
“My company owns part of Bellmere Events.”
I stared.
“Of course it does.”
He actually laughed.
“I didn’t arrange your shift.”
“Good.”
“But when I saw the event staffing list, I recognized your name.”
“So you came because of me.”
“Partly.”
“Why not contact me?”
Roman became serious.
“Because I did not know whether you were involved.”
“In stealing my own work?”
“In whatever Damian was doing.”
Fair.
Painful.
But fair.
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Employment history. Public records. Financial connections to Damian.”
“My coffee orders?”
“No.”
“Apartment?”
“Public lease records only.”
“Relationships?”
“Only Damian.”
I crossed my arms.
“This is not making you sound less unsettling.”
“I know.”
Then he said:
“I found something else.”
Of course.
He pulled out his phone.
A scanned scholarship record.
Damian’s final-year tuition.
I had paid $4,800.
But another payment arrived the same semester.
Twenty thousand dollars.
Anonymous donor.
Damian had told me he received financial aid.
He hadn’t.
The donor was Vale Educational Foundation.
Roman’s father.
“Why?”
“My father occasionally funded students from families connected to people who helped him.”
I stared.
“Dad?”
“Apparently.”
That meant Damian had benefited from my father twice.
Through me.
And through Vale.
“Did Damian know?”
“The check was anonymous.”
Roman paused.
“Until two years ago.”
Damian had requested donor records through an old university contact.
He discovered the Vale connection.
That was when he began approaching Roman’s investment group.
Not simply to finance the project.
He knew the Vale family had old Bennett records.
Damian wanted to control both archives.
I whispered:
“So he knew you might find Dad’s files.”
“Yes.”
“And tonight…”
“He saw you with me and panicked.”
The champagne suddenly made sense.
Humiliate first.
Define me before I could speak.
Cheap dress.
Barista.
Bitter ex.
If I later claimed stolen ideas, everyone had already seen the role Damian assigned me.
Roman looked toward the ballroom.
“He miscalculated.”
I laughed.
“Because you walked in?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Because you didn’t cry.”
That surprised me.
“I wanted to.”
“I know.”
“Then how is that strength?”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Roman leaned against the railing.
“People romanticize composure. Sometimes crying is the honest response.”
He understood something most powerful men didn’t.
Not everything had to become performance.
Then I asked:
“Why did you call me your fiancée?”
He hesitated.
“For the same reason Damian poured champagne.”
I frowned.
“To control how the room saw you.”
“Yes.”
The honesty irritated me.
“But I did it in your favor.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No.”
He accepted that immediately.
No argument.
No explanation.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed him.
Which was annoying.
Then the balcony door opened.
Victoria.
Alone.
She had removed the diamond Damian gave her.
“I need to tell Ava something.”
Roman looked at me.
My choice.
I nodded.
Victoria stepped forward.
Her face was pale.
“My father is leaving.”
“Fine.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He’s destroying records before he goes.”
Roman straightened.
“What records?”
“The original Langford tenant files.”
May you like
Then she looked at me.
“And one letter your father wrote to my mother the night before he died.”
