Chapter 7 - The Fragile Peace
The campaign was a logistical masterpiece. Harper became the campaign manager, the legal advisor, and the public face of a political movement that started in the basements of union halls and ended on the nightly news.
But the success brought danger.
One evening, as Harper was leaving a campaign office, she was cornered in an alleyway. A black car blocked her path, and three men stepped out.
They weren't Hayes’s people. These were veterans, men who moved with the tactical precision of a paramilitary unit.
Harper didn't panic. She reached into her purse, but before she could do anything, the air was shattered by the sound of gunfire.
It wasn't hers.
Roman’s security team moved in like shadows. It was over in thirty seconds.
Roman arrived moments later, his face pale—not with fear, but with a terrifying, controlled rage. He stepped out of his car and walked toward her.
He didn't touch her; he just looked at her, his eyes checking for any injury.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice ragged.
“I’m fine, Roman,” Harper said, her adrenaline finally beginning to fade. “I had it under control.”
May you like
“You didn’t,” he said, his hand finally reaching out to touch her face. “And you never will have to be in control when you’re with me. I have men for that. My job is to make sure you never have to worry about the cost of living in this city.”
“The cost is always going to be high, Roman,” she said, looking into his eyes. “You know that better than anyone.”
