Page 108 of I See You

The way Roman yanked her off Ariel without a second thought. Thewayhecheckedherfirst—madesureshewasgood—before stepping to Ariel like she was nothing more than dirt under his shoe. Thatkindofprotectiveness?Thatkindofdanger?Itdidn’tscare Dorian. It stirred something in her. Something hot. Something deep. Now,astheyspeddownthefreeway,Roman’shandrestedon her thigh like it belonged there. Dorian glanced down at it but didn’t move.Shedidn’twantto.Histouchwasheavy,grounding—likea claim, but not the suffocating kind.

“You ain’t have to come like that,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

“Nah,”Romanreplied,glancingherway,coolasever.“ButI wanted to.”

“You knew I had it handled.”

“I did. But that don’t mean I ain’t gon’ pull up behind you… clean up the mess—or make it worse, depending on how I’m feelin’.”

Dorian smirked. “So what, you my personal hitman now?”

Heleanedback,hisvoicedroppinganotch,deeper…smoother.

“Nah. I’m whatever the fuck you need me to be.” That shut her up.

Her chest rose a little quicker, a little higher. She looked away, tried to focus on the road ahead, but his words played on loop in her mind. That kind of promise? It was dangerous. Addictive.

A few blocks passed in silence before he spoke again, tone sharper now. “Next time? Call me first.”

She arched a brow. “What, you tryna be my emergency contact now too?”

“No. Just don’t like the thought of you out here swinging on bitches without backup.”

That pulled a laugh from her—soft, real, and unexpected. She leaned back in her seat, finally relaxing for the first time all damn day. “Thanks, Roman.”

He glanced at her, and for a moment, the playfulness dropped from his face. He was serious now. Intent.

“You mine now?” he asked.

Dorian turned to him slowly, lips curling. “No. I bet you ask all your other bitches that too.”

Roman let out a deep chuckle that vibrated off the doors. “Nah, them hoes can’t fight like you.”

“Oh, so that’s why you want me? ‘Cause I throw hands?” she teased.

“Hell nah. That’s just a bonus,” he said, his eyes back on the road, but his grin deepening. “You fine as fuck, you match my fire, and you got your own bag. And that pussy heaven!”

Dorian laughed out loud, shaking her head. One thing about Roman—he didn’t fake shit. He said what he meant and meant what he said, no matter how raw it sounded.

“So you mine now?” he asked again, cocky and calm. “Ask me again when my adrenaline ain’t still spiked.”

Roman grinned, turning the corner a little too sharp, just to seeif she’d flinch. She didn’t. Her body tilted toward him, but before she could brace herself, his hand slid tighter around her thigh, locking her in place.

“Aight,” he said, voice low, smile lethal. “I’ll wait.”

And Dorian? She didn’t know whether to run from him—or run straight into the flames. But one thing she knew for sure?

She wasn’t walking away.

"I need to call my cousin since you left my car at the bank," Dorian said, trying to reclaim some control in the thick, charged air inside the car. But Roman? He stayed cool behind the wheel, punching ina gate code as they rolled up to a private neighborhood lined with mansions that screamed money and power.

"I already have your shit being delivered here," Roman said casually, not even looking her way.

Dorian blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”

He smirked. “Yeah, baby. I own a fucking dealership. You think I don’t got pull?”

Dorian couldn’t help it—her face lit up like he’d just told her she won the lottery. “Okay, stunt on me then.”

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