Chapter 5 - The Glass Shards and the Bloodstained Key
The hissing sound of the acidic champagne eating away at the floor’s polished surface was the only sound in the suffocating silence of the grand ballroom.
Roman’s eyes shifted from Sadie’s terrified face down to the bubbling puddle on the floor. In a split second, the shock on his face transformed into pure, unadulterated demon rage.
“Volkov,” Roman whispered. The name came out not as a voice, but as a death sentence.
Volkov backed away, his hand flying into his coat, but Roman was impossibly faster. With the speed of a striking viper, Roman drew his custom black matte pistol and fired a single, deafening shot.
The bullet tore through Volkov’s right shoulder, spinning the Russian boss around and slamming him hard against the banquet table.
Gunfire erupted instantly across the room.
“Down!” Roman roared, throwing his massive body over Sadie and slamming them both behind the heavy oak bar.
Bullets chewed through the wood above their heads, sending splinters and shattered bottles of liquor raining down on them like hail. The smell of gunpowder, spilled whiskey, and blood filled the room. Sadie buried her face into Roman’s chest, trembling uncontrollably, her arms wrapped around his neck in sheer survival instinct.
Even amid the gunfire and screams, Roman held her tightly with one arm, shielding her completely with his body, while his other arm systematically returned fire over the counter with lethal, terrifying accuracy.
“Marco!” Roman shouted over the din. “Flank the exits! Kill every Russian in this room!”
“On it, boss!” Marco’s voice boomed from across the hall, followed by the rapid staccato of automatic gunfire.
Within two minutes, the shooting ceased.
The only sounds left were the groans of dying men and the steady drip of alcohol from the shattered bar shelves.
Roman breathed heavily against Sadie’s hair. His suit was torn, and a streak of blood marked his jawline, but his eyes were focused entirely on the woman in his arms. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face with both hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Are you hit? Did they touch you?” Roman demanded, his voice thick with a frantic desperation she had never heard from him before.
“I’m... I’m okay,” Sadie sobbed, clutching his lapels. “I’m okay.”
Roman pulled her in and pressed a fierce, possessive kiss to her forehead. “You saved my life, Sadie. You saved my life.”
He stood up, pulling her gently to her feet, and stepped over the wreckage. Volkov was kneeling on the blood-soaked floor, clutching his shattered shoulder, surrounded by Costa enforcers with guns pointed at his skull.
Roman walked up to the bleeding Russian boss, his expression cold as granite.
“Who gave you the poison, Volkov?” Roman asked, aiming his weapon directly between Volkov’s eyes. “You’re too stupid to brew a colorless neurotoxin. Who in my house helped you?”
Volkov spit a mouthful of blood onto Roman’s polished boots and laughed weakly. “You think... you think you own this city, Costa? Look closer at your own house. The call came from the inside.”
Roman pulled the trigger without blinking. Volkov collapsed lifeless onto the floor.
The room was dead silent. Roman turned around, his dark gaze sweeping over the surviving guards and staff standing terrified near the doorways.
“Search every room,” Roman commanded Marco. “Find the traitor. If anyone tries to leave the gates, shoot them.”
Roman took Sadie’s hand, his grip tight and unyielding, and led her away from the carnage, up the marble stairs and back into the safety of his private master suite on the third floor.
He locked the heavy steel-reinforced doors behind them, shutting out the chaos of the world below.
Sadie stood in the center of the lavish bedroom, her emerald dress stained with dust and drops of alcohol, her heart still hammering in her chest like a trapped bird.
Roman approached her slowly. The violent rage that had possessed him downstairs was gone, replaced by a dark, burning intensity that made the air between them feel electric. He reached out and gently removed the ruby necklace from her throat, his fingers lingering on her skin.
“You saw the poison,” Roman murmured, stepping closer until she was backed against the edge of the massive king-sized bed. “You could have let me drink it. You could have let me die and walked out of this house a free woman.”
Sadie looked up into his dark, searching eyes. The truth hung between them, raw and terrifying.
“I couldn't,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I couldn't let them kill you.”
Roman’s gaze darkened. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, hovering just a millimeter away, torturing them both with the heat of his breath.
“You’re not my maid anymore, Sadie,” Roman growled softly against her lips. “You are the Don’s queen. And tomorrow, the entire world will know it.”
Before she could respond, Roman’s phone buzzed aggressively in his pocket.
He pulled it out, his jaw clenching as he answered. “What is it, Marco?”
Marco’s voice came through the speaker, breathless and panicked: “Boss... we found the traitor’s stash in the basement. But you need to come down here right now.”
“Who was it?” Roman demanded.
“It’s about Sadie,” Marco said, his voice shaking. “We found her real files. The father’s debt... the bakery delivery boy... everything was a setup. She didn't come here to hide, Roman. She was sent here three years ago to kill you.”
Roman slowly lowered the phone.
His dark eyes locked onto Sadie, the tenderness vanishing, replaced by a terrifying, murderous coldness that froze the blood in her veins.
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In the silence of the room, Sadie’s hand instinctively drifted toward the hidden pocket concealed beneath the silk slit of her emerald dress, where the cold metal of a miniature silver syringe was hidden...
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