Chapter 27 #4
“Speaking of Balthazar and his twat of a son…” He laced our fingers together, stroking my palm with his thumb. “I have no idea how you endured being with Tristan. He’s a blithe idiot—a complete pain in the ass. What did you possibly see in him?”
My cheeks heated, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation passing through me.
“I think Tristan hid his true colors.” I sighed, curling closer against Roman’s warmth. “His mannerisms were often forced. They seemed… calculated, almost too perfect. But I can only see that in retrospect.”
I squeezed his hand, searching his face. “I hope you don’t think less of me for being with Tristan.”
Roman’s expression softened instantly.
“I could never think less of you, amore.” He kissed the top of my head, his lips pressing against my hair. “You are the keeper of my heart.”
Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up with excitement, and his smirk curled in a way that made my stomach flutter.
“I almost forgot! I brought gifts from the twenty-first century for you.”
“Gifts?” My heart thumped with excitement, anticipation coiling in my chest.
Roman grinned as he traipsed across the room, opening the armoire and retrieving several items wrapped in silk.
“Your father suggested we buy these,” Roman said, his voice tinged with teasing and deep affection as he returned to me.
He placed the first parcel in my hands, and I felt his gaze burning into me, heavy with anticipation.
I blinked at him, the words sinking in, rattling something deep inside me. “My father! I still can’t believe he’s alive! All this time, I thought Tristan had killed him. But when I saw him through my dagger...” My voice faltered, thick with emotion. “It felt impossible.”
Roman’s fingers ghosted over my cheek, his touch grounding, reassuring. “Yes, amore, he’s alive and misses you dearly.”
With trembling fingers, I peeled apart the red silk, my heart pounding as I revealed the contents beneath.
A box of bullets for my Glock.
A shaky, breathless laugh left me. “Oh! What a perfect gift! I was nearly out of bullets!”
Roman grinned, looking pleased with himself.
I set the box beside me, eager now, adrenaline thrumming beneath my skin. “What else do you have?”
His eyes sparkled with something unreadable as he reached for the next package.
“Extend your hand,” he instructed.
I did.
His warm, calloused fingers placed a small, weighty object into my palm, then curled my fingers around it, holding my hand for a beat too long.
“This was also your father’s suggestion,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, more reverent. “Jack is an extraordinary man. I enjoyed him greatly.”
Tears pricked my eyes at the thought of Roman meeting my father, the two most important men in my life existing in the same space, speaking, planning, and choosing something for me together.
I clutched the bundle to my chest, unable to hold back a watery smile. “Whatever it is… I already love it.”
Roman’s grin softened, but his eyes blazed with something deeper, something timeless. “Open it, my love.”
I unclasped my fingers with exquisite care, peeling away the silk wrapping.
Two gold bands—one larger, one smaller—gleamed against the fabric.
A ragged breath left me as a tear slipped free, landing silently on the silk.
“What… what are these?” I whispered as I touched them.
Roman picked up the smaller band, turning it between his fingers before holding it close to my eyes.
“Read the inscription.”
I blinked against the blur of emotion, focusing on the delicate, impossibly perfect etching inside the ring.
Forever yours, Roman. Forever yours, my beautiful flame.
A surprised gasp escaped me, a choked sound of pure, aching love.
“Oh, Roman…” My voice broke, and I pressed a hand to my mouth.
Roman’s gaze burned into me, his eyes molten with devotion, as he took my left hand and reverently, slid the ring onto my finger.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles, his touch branding me, claiming me in a way that made my breath hitch.
“We are destined to find one another, my love.” His voice was more than words—a vow, an unshakable truth, a promise defying time itself. “In this life… and the next.”
A tremor of pure, undiluted love coursed through me.
With shaking hands, I picked up the other ring, took Roman’s strong, battle-scarred hand, and slid the gold band into place, my fingers curling around his, refusing to let go.
“You mellow my hot temper.” My voice thickened with emotion, my lips curving in a teasing smile. “You are my sexy gladiator in this lifetime. Yes… we shall always find one another.”
A low, guttural sound rumbled from Roman’s throat, something primal, raw, hungry—and then we crashed together, our mouths meeting with a desperate, searing intensity.
It was not a kiss—it was a collision.
A supernova of need, an explosion of heat and longing, a force that seemed to split my soul open as we devoured each other, drowning in the power of us.
Tiny filaments of energy coiled and wrapped around us, an invisible binding, an inescapable tether. It overflowed from some ancient, otherworldly source, surging through our bodies like an unstoppable current, shaking me to my core.
I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, the hard planes of his body pressing into me, every inch of me alive, aching for more.
We ripped apart, panting, our foreheads pressed together, our eyes locked in a battle of hunger and reverence.
I smiled, breathless. “Forever yours, Roman.”
He matched my smile, his thumb brushing over my swollen lips, his blue eyes dark and endless. “Forever yours, Olivia… my beautiful flame.”
His gaze returned to the final parcel resting on the bed, and the energy between us shifted—softer, heavier, filled with longing of a different kind.
“Here is your last gift.” His voice was quiet, almost reverent. “It’s a letter from your father.”
My heart stopped.
I reached for the silk-wrapped bundle, my fingers trembling as I pressed it to my chest, as if just holding it could pull him through time and space.
For a moment, I swore I could feel him—Papa—his presence wrapping around me like a warm embrace, as if we hugged in some ethereal realm, somewhere beyond this moment, beyond the limits of time and flesh.
I held onto that feeling, clutching it like a lifeline, letting it fill my hollow places.
But then curiosity took hold, and I carefully peeled apart the silk, my breath shallow and hesitant.
Inside, several sheets of folded paper rested, the ink dark and bold, the handwriting achingly familiar.
I smoothed the paper with my hand, my pulse pounding in my ears.
And then, I began to read.
Dear Olivia,
First and foremost, I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you and letting my fears close my eyes to what you deserved to know. I thought I was sheltering you, protecting you from the darkness that loomed over our lives. But I see now that I did it all wrong.
I should have armed you with knowledge, not left you in the dark. I should have told you who you truly are—so you could be ready for the battles that were always meant to come.
A circular water stain blurred the ink, and my heart clenched painfully. Had Papa been crying when he wrote this?
The thought shattered me.
Your mother and I… we were never meant to last. We loved each other in our own way, but the truth is, she never loved me the way I loved her. I tried—God, how I tried—to please and make her happy, but I was never enough.
More tear stains marred the words.
Your mother kept secrets—big ones. And over time, they grew like poison, tearing through the fragile thing we had built. But despite everything, she saved me from my darkness, from the edge of a cliff I nearly stepped off when I was at my lowest.
I will always be grateful to her for that.
But when she was murdered, I wanted to die all over again. I was lost and broken beyond repair.
And there was you, a child who needed me.
But how could I be a father when I could barely keep myself alive?
I couldn’t feed you. I couldn’t take care of you. I was drowning in grief, crying too much to see the path forward.
I told Lee to take you, to raise you as his own. But he refused.
“No,” he told me. “You have to keep going. You have a daughter. And she needs you very much.”
And then—he told me the truth.
“Alina was a time traveler,” he said.
I was stunned.
I had spent many nights wondering, questioning, and aching for answers. But nothing could have prepared me for those words.
I swore that night that I would find her killer.
I dedicated my life to destroying the darkness that took her from us.
Tears blurred my vision. My chest heaved with quiet sobs, my fingers clutching the letter so tightly it wrinkled in my grasp.
Papa… he’d been hunting the darkness all this time.
A protective surge tore through me. He was too fragile to take on Balthazar. He didn’t stand a chance.
Roman’s warm palm glided over my shoulder, grounding me. “Are you okay?”.
I couldn’t speak. There was too much inside me, a dam threatening to burst. Instead, I nodded, though it did nothing to stop the tears that spilled freely down my cheeks.
I forced myself to keep reading.
Lee told me Alina had an affair with a madman.
I wish she had told me the truth.
Now, I want to be part of this fight. I believe we all have a role to play.
A choked sob stuck in my throat.
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, trying to hold it.
When I met Roman, I was stunned. Imagine my shock when a towering gladiator of a man appeared in my home.
I could almost hear Papa laughing; his smile was so vivid in my mind that it ached.
I’m so glad you’re with him. You’re well-matched now, with a man worthy of your heart.
I enjoyed him. Truly.
Knowing you’re with someone strong, someone who will never betray you, lets me breathe easier.
I love you, sweetheart, and I know you are strong.
Stronger than Alina ever was.
You’re fiercer, bolder, and I know you can defeat Balthazar.
Even if your mother couldn’t, you will.
I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but my door is always open.
Forgive me for not being the father you deserved.
I was lost in the dark for too many years.
All I wanted was to protect you.
But when I found out Balthazar was hunting you, I realized—I can’t protect you from a distance.
So, stay strong. Stay vigilant. Never give up.
I love you forever, my little moon.
Papa
Now I was ugly crying—huge, body-racking sobs that shook my ribcage and left me gasping for air.
Roman wrapped me up, pulling me against his chest, his arms a fortress around me. He stroked my hair, murmuring soft reassurances, his lips brushing my temple as he held me together.
When the sobs finally ebbed, I pulled away, my breath still uneven. “I read Mom’s journal.”
Roman brushed away my tears with his thumbs, his gaze steady. “Did you? What did you learn?”
I swallowed hard. “That she… she loved Balthazar. That she thought she could save him.” My brows knitted together. “I don’t get it.”
Roman tilted his head, considering. “Well… think about Malik. Look how close we are to him now.”
I shook my head vehemently. “They are not the same. Balthazar is a monster.”
“That’s true,” Roman admitted, his tone measured—his reasonable voice, which he used when trying to ground me. “But how do you know the journal is telling the truth?”
I frowned, worry curling in my stomach. “You’re right. Mom was… calculating. She kept secrets. She lied. But she’s been dead a long time.” My voice dropped. “Only time will tell if her words were true.”
Roman nodded.
I folded the letter carefully, wrapping it in the red silk before setting it beside the box of bullets. But just as my fingers left the fabric, a horrible realization crashed through me like a thunderclap.
My heart seized.
“Roman!”
His head snapped up, muscles going taut. “What?”
I spun toward him, my voice tight with panic. “Where is my dagger?”
Roman’s fingers clamped around my arms. “What do you mean?”
“My blade, Roman!” My breath came in frantic bursts, and my hands suddenly became ice cold. “I always keep it strapped to my leg. It’s gone. It’s not here.”
His expression darkened instantly. “Think. When did you last have it?”
I searched my foggy memory, my mind racing back through the chaos. The party. The fire. Balthazar. The escape. It all blurred together.
Then it hit me like a gut punch.
“I think…” My voice quivered. “I think we left it at Costa’s.”