Chapter 7 - The Continental AftermathBy midnight, the heavy brass keypad of the Continental unlocked for just the two of us. The private lounge was empty, the dim amber lights casting long shadows across the mahogany bar and the velvet booths where politicians and kingmakers usually cut their deals in secret.
Roman poured two glasses of aged bourbon, handing one to me before sliding onto the leather stool beside mine.
"You realize," Roman said, taking a slow sip of his drink, "that the moment we step outside tomorrow morning, every newspaper in the state is going to connect your name to the fall of the Davies dynasty."
I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, watching the ice cube catch the dim light. For the first time in six months, my chest didn't feel tight. The phantom weight of Caleb’s betrayal, the crushing dread of the debt collectors, and the invisible ceiling that society had placed over my head because of my father’s disgraced name were all gone.
"Let them," I said, looking up to meet Roman’s steady, dark gaze. "For six months, I let them define who I was by what was taken from me. Tonight, I learned that the people who think they own the world are usually standing on glass floors."
Roman smiled—a rare, genuine expression that softened the hard lines of his face. "You're a dangerous woman, Sadi. I should probably be careful letting you stay around my operations."
"Your operations?" I raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who dragged me into a federal corruption scandal just to settle a shipping yard dispute."
"Fair point," he chuckled, setting his glass down on the counter. He turned on the stool so he was facing me fully, his expression shifting from playful to intensely serious. "Now that the debt is cleared, and Caleb’s life is completely dismantled... what are you going to do next? You don't have to work the floor at the Continental anymore."
I looked around the quiet, exclusive lounge where I had spent months rebuilding my life from the ashes. I had walked in here as a broken victim carrying a fraudulent debt; I was walking out as something entirely different.
"I don't want to leave," I said quietly.
May you like
Roman raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?"
"You need someone who knows how to read the books, Roman. Someone who can spot a forgery before it hits your desk, and someone who isn't afraid of judges in custom suits." I set my glass down beside his, the crystal clinking softly against the wood. "I think you and I have only scratched the surface of what we can audit."
