Chapter 3 - the high suites
The high-speed service elevator rose smoothly toward the seventy-fifth floor. Away from the dark mechanical sublevels, the upper sanctuary of the Black Crown Casino Hotel was a dazzling paradise of white marble, gold accents, and floor-to-ceiling glass offering breathtaking views of the ocean skyline.
Meera stood near the glass panel of the double doors, holding Evan’s small hand as the elevator clicked to a stop. She felt entirely out of place in her worn black-and-white maid uniform.
Roman stepped out first, his heavy leather shoes clicking against the polished Italian marble of the penthouse hallway. Two additional security guards stepped aside, bowing their heads respectfully as their boss approached.
"Open Suite 702," Roman instructed the guards.
The heavy mahogany doors swung open into a sprawling, two-story luxury suite. Warm amber light filled the space, reflecting off plush velvet sofas, a glass fireplace, a private dining room, and a massive terrace overlooking the city lights below.
Evan let go of his mother's hand and walked slowly into the center of the living room, his eyes wide as he looked at the floating spiral staircase leading to the upper bedrooms.
"This... this is too much, Mr. Black," Meera said, standing near the doorway. "We're simple people. I just clean rooms here."
"You were a cleaner five hours ago," Roman said, turning to face her. He removed his tailored black suit jacket, tossing it casually over the back of an armchair, revealing his broad shoulders and the dark tattoos creeping up his neck beneath his open dress shirt. "Now, you are the mother of the boy who saved the ruler of this city. In my world, debts are paid in full."
He walked over to a marble wet bar, pouring two glasses of sparkling mineral water and handing one to her. Their fingers brushed briefly as she took the glass, sending a sharp, unexpected spark through Meera’s chest. Up close, Roman was overwhelming—his scent of costly cedarwood and rain mixed with the dangerous power he projected effortlessly.
"Thank you," Meera whispered, taking a slow sip to calm her racing nerves.
"Where is Evan's father?" Roman asked bluntly, his dark eyes searching her face with quiet intensity.
Meera’s hand tightened around the glass. She looked toward the terrace where Evan was standing safely behind the safety glass, admiring the distant city lights.
"He isn't in our lives," Meera answered, her voice dropping into a guarded, painful tone. "He left before Evan was born. He didn't want a family... and he didn't want the responsibility."
Roman watched the subtle shadow of pain cross her fair, rosy cheeks. "His loss. He left behind a brilliant son... and a remarkably courageous woman."
Meera looked up, caught off guard by the sincere, deep compliment coming from a man known across three states as a cold, unfeeling Mafia kingpin.
Before she could respond, a soft, polite knock echoed at the suite door. Marcus, the chief bodyguard, stepped inside carrying a sleek leather briefcase and a fresh stack of clothing.
"Boss," Marcus said low. "We swept Trent's office downtown. We found offshore bank transfers originating from the Vance Syndicate in Chicago. They paid him two million dollars to sabotage the lift during your scheduled midnight sweep."
Roman’s expression hardened instantly into cold steel. The warmth that had been present seconds ago vanished, replaced by an aura of absolute violence.
"The Vance family," Roman growled softly. "They think they can execute an ambush in my own house."
"There's more, sir," Marcus added, glancing nervously toward Meera. "Trent's phone log shows he made a final call three minutes before the accident. Not to Chicago... but to an internal room on the fortieth floor of this hotel."
Roman’s jaw set into a rigid line. "Someone inside the Black Crown gave him the green light."
Meera stepped forward, her maternal instincts warning her that the danger was far closer than they realized. "Mr. Black... if there's someone else in the hotel, my son isn't safe here."
May you like
Roman turned to her, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute, ironclad certainty.
"No one touches your son while I am breathing, Meera," Roman declared firmly. "I am going to tear this hotel apart until I find the snake... and you two will stay right by my side."
