Page 60 of Forbidden Daddy
"Isn’t it?" I met his eyes. "She let her inability to trust anyone destroy her relationship with someone who would’ve died for her. Sound familiar?"
Something shifted in Roman’s expression—recognition, maybe, or the dawning realization that I understood his demons better than he’d thought.
"I’m not saying my father was right to cheat on her," I continued. "He wasn’t. But my mother’s response was to burn down everything good in her life because she couldn’t separate the betrayal from the people who still loved her."
Roman was quiet for a long moment, processing what I’d told him. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.
"I’m sorry. For what happened to you."
"I’m not telling you this for sympathy," I said. "I’m telling you because I understand what betrayal does to a person. How it makes you want to build walls so high that no one can ever hurt you again. But Roman?—"
I unfolded myself from the sofa and crossed to his chair, kneeling beside it so we were at eye level.
"Not everyone is the enemy. Some people stay because they choose to, not because they’re getting something out of it."
His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. "And what are you getting out of it, Cassie?"
"You," I said simply. "I’m getting you."
The truth of it hit me as I said the words. Somewhere along the way, this had stopped being about survival or financial security or even the intoxicating danger of his world. This had become about him—the man beneath the monster, the vulnerability he hid behind violence, the way he made me feel like I was worth protecting.
Roman’s eyes darkened with something that looked like wonder. Like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
"I’m still here," I whispered, covering his hand with both of mine. "After everything—the violence, the danger, the secrets—I’m still here. That has to count for something."
Instead of answering with words, he pulled me up and into his lap, his arms coming around me with desperate possession. I settled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
His hand moved unconsciously to rest over my stomach, and my breath hitched. The gesture was protective, claiming.
We stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other while the fire burned low. No words, just the quiet comfort of being understood by someone who’d walked through similar darkness.
Eventually, Roman stirred beneath me. "Come on," he whispered. "It’s late."
He walked me to our bedroom, his hand never leaving the small of my back. At the door, he paused, and I could see him retreating behind those familiar walls.
"Goodnight, baby girl," he said, his fingers brushing across my wrist like a promise. But his body language told a different story—he was already pulling away, already preparing to retreat to the guest room where he’d been sleeping since he learned about the pregnancy.
As he started to turn away, something fierce and desperate rose in my chest. I couldn’t let him disappear behind his walls again. Not tonight. Not when we’d finally started to break through to each other.
"Roman," I said, catching his hand before he could leave.
He stopped, looking back at me with questions in his eyes.
Instead of speaking, I stepped closer, my free hand moving to the knot of his tie. His breath caught as my fingers worked the silk loose, letting it fall to the floor between us.
"Cassie—"
"Stay," I breathed, my hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "Please."
For a moment, he just stood there, letting me undress him with careful reverence. Each button revealed more of the man beneath the armor—the tattoos that told stories I was still learning, the scars that mapped a lifetime of violence, the steady rise and fall of his chest as his breathing grew uneven.
When his shirt joined his tie on the floor, his hands found my waist, fingers trembling slightly as they traced the curves barely concealed by my silk nightgown.
This time, when we moved toward the bed, we moved together.
24
CASSIE
