Chapter 3 - The Broken LedgerBefore Caleb could stumble through another excuse, Roman excused us with a polite nod and steered me toward the VIP terrace overlooking the city skyline. The glass doors shut out the suffocating noise of the ballroom, leaving us in a quiet bubble of cool night air and glittering city lights.
"You handled yourself well out there," Roman said, leaning against the stone balustrade and looking down at the street below. "Most people fold the second an old judge tries to pull rank."
"Most people haven't spent six months scrubbing floors and balancing ledgers at the Continental just to survive the wreckage Caleb left behind," I replied, resting my hands on the cold stone. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but the panic had turned into a sharp, addictive adrenaline.
Roman turned his head, studying my profile in the moonlight. "You’re still thinking about what he said on the phone, aren't you? That you were never supposed to pay those debts yourself."
I turned to face him. "What did he mean by that, Roman? For months, I thought I was drowning because of my own failure. Every time I handed over my earnings at the club, I thought I was paying for his mistakes. But that remark... it sounded like something else."
Roman reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a slim leather folio, and flipped it open. He didn't look at me as he slid a single folded document across the stone ledge.
"Caleb didn't just accumulate gambling debts at the Continental," Roman said quietly. "He used your signature as collateral. Not legally—he forged your name on a secondary line of credit tied to your father's old estate holdings before the probate court caught the fraud. He knew the debt would fall on you the moment he severed ties."
The world tilted on its axis. All the guilt, all the self-blame, all the sleepless nights spent counting pennies while Caleb shopped for custom tuxedos evaporated, replaced by a cold, searing fury.
"He set me up," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.
"He intended to ruin you completely so you’d never have the leverage to speak out against him," Roman corrected. He tapped the document with his index finger. "And legally, that twenty-two-thousand-dollar balance we wiped out tonight? It was never yours to begin with. It was an instrument of extortion."
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I looked down at the paper, then up at Roman. "And you knew this before tonight."
"I own the Continental, Sadi," Roman said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe. "Nothing happens in my house without my knowledge. I just wanted to see what you would do when you finally realized you weren't the victim anymore."
