Chapter 8 - the ledger of the crown
By the following afternoon, the sun was shining brightly over the city, illuminating the sparkling blue ocean waters beyond the Black Crown's grand glass towers.
Down in the hotel's executive board room, Roman sat at the head of a massive mahogany table. Dressed in a fresh, perfectly tailored dark navy suit, he looked every bit the powerful billionaire kingpin.
Sitting across from him was his chief legal counsel, along with Marcus and two senior syndicate captains.
"The Vance Syndicate in Chicago has officially backed off, Mr. Black," his attorney reported, passing a stack of legal documents across the table. "They signed over their interest in the northern shipping docks to compensate for the damages caused by Julian and Trent."
"Good," Roman said flatly, signing his name in smooth, authoritative strokes at the bottom of the contracts. "What about the hotel management staff?"
"We've appointed a new general manager from our internal security division," Marcus added. "And Mrs. Collins's resignation from the housekeeping department has been processed, as per your request."
Roman paused, looking up from his papers. "Resignation?"
"Yes, sir," Marcus explained. "She filed the paperwork this morning. She mentioned she felt uncomfortable taking a maid salary when she's living in the penthouse suite."
Roman closed his leather folder with a sharp snap. He stood up immediately, smoothing his suit jacket. "The meeting is adjourned."
Ten minutes later, Roman walked into the grand living room of Suite 702.
Meera stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, holding a small leather duffel bag containing her personal belongings. She was dressed in a simple, beautiful pale-yellow dress with flat shoes, her brown hair styled neatly. Evan sat on a chair nearby, holding his small backpack.
Roman stopped near the doorway, his brow furrowed in genuine distress. "Where are you going, Meera?"
Meera turned around, offering him a soft, bittersweet smile. "The hotel is safe now, Roman. Julian is gone. You've been more than generous to us... but we can't stay in your penthouse forever. We need to go back to our life."
Roman walked across the room with long, urgent strides, stopping directly in front of her. His massive frame towered over her, but his eyes were filled with an unexpected, raw vulnerability.
"Your life is here now, Meera," Roman said firmly, his deep voice carrying a tone of desperate sincerity. "I didn't bring you up here just to protect you for one night."
Meera looked up at him, her heart beating rapidly. "Roman... I'm a single mother who worked night shifts cleaning your rooms. You're a billionaire Mafia boss who commands an empire. People will talk... your enemies will look at us—"
"Let them look!" Roman declared, his dark eyes blazing with fierce passion. He reached out, taking both of her hands in his large palms, pulling her close against his chest. "I don't care about the hotel staff. I don't care about my enemies. For ten years, I built this empire alone, surrounded by people who only wanted my money or my power. You and Evan are the first real things in my life."
May you like
Meera felt tears glistening in her eyes. "Roman..."
"Stay with me, Meera," Roman pleaded softly, his voice dropping into a tender murmur as he lifted one hand to gently cup her soft cheek. "Not as a guest. Not as an employee. Stay here as my family."
