Chapter 7 - Who Gave You Those Flowers?
One year later, Roman Costa entered a small café on Harbor Street at 6:03 in the evening.
The sign outside read:
SADIE'S
Roman hated the name.
Sadie had chosen it specifically because he hated it.
The café was crowded.
Families filled the tables.
College students occupied the window seats.
An elderly couple shared cake near the counter.
And behind the register stood Sadie.
No gray uniform.
No severe knot.
No lowered eyes.
She wore a simple blue dress beneath a white apron, her dark hair loosely pinned back.
She saw Roman.
“Late.”
“Six-oh-three.”
“You said six.”
“I run a criminal organization.”
“Apparently clocks defeated you.”
Roman leaned across the counter.
“Hello to you too.”
Sadie kissed him.
Several customers stared.
Roman ignored them.
He had become surprisingly good at that.
Vincent entered behind him.
“Boss.”
“Don't call him boss in here,” Sadie said.
Vincent immediately corrected himself.
“Roman.”
Roman looked offended.
Sadie smiled.
Then Roman noticed something.
A bouquet sat beside the espresso machine.
Pink carnations.
His eyes narrowed.
“Sadie.”
She kept wiping the counter.
“Yes?”
“Who gave you those flowers?”
Vincent immediately turned around.
“Nope.”
He walked straight back outside.
Sadie looked innocent.
“What flowers?”
Roman pointed.
“Those.”
“Oh.”
She picked up the bouquet.
“Someone brought them this afternoon.”
“Who?”
Sadie struggled not to laugh.
Roman's eyes narrowed further.
“Toby?”
“He's married now.”
“That wasn't my question.”
The customers closest to them were listening.
Sadie walked around the counter.
“Are you jealous?”
“No.”
“You're doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The Toby face.”
“I don't have a Toby face.”
“You absolutely have a Toby face.”
Roman looked at the flowers.
“Who sent them?”
Sadie finally handed him the card.
Roman opened it.
He read two words.
For Sadie.
Then beneath them:
Love, Roman.
He stared.
Sadie folded her arms.
“You ordered them this morning.”
Roman looked at the carnations again.
Then remembered.
He had.
Sadie burst out laughing.
Roman closed his eyes.
“I've had a long day.”
“You interrogated me over flowers you bought.”
“I asked one question.”
“You were preparing an investigation.”
“I was not.”
“Vincent ran away.”
“Vincent is dramatic.”
The café door opened again.
Toby entered carrying bread.
He stopped when he saw Roman holding the carnations.
“Oh, no.”
Sadie laughed harder.
Roman pointed at him.
“Don't start.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Good.”
Toby placed the bread on the counter.
A young woman entered behind him.
“My wife, Emily,” Toby said.
Roman visibly relaxed.
Sadie stared at him.
“Seriously?”
Roman ignored her.
Toby and Emily left.
Sadie followed Roman toward a quieter corner.
“Sit.”
Roman obeyed.
She placed coffee in front of him.
Then a small envelope.
Roman looked at it.
“What now?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a check.
Roman frowned.
It was the final payment on Sadie's business loan.
He looked up.
“You paid it early.”
“Eight months early.”
Roman studied her.
Sadie sat across from him.
“The café is mine.”
“It was always yours.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Now it feels like mine.”
Roman nodded.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Sadie reached across the table.
Roman took her hand.
Three years earlier, she had been terrified to look at him.
Now she squeezed his fingers.
“There's something else.”
Roman became suspicious.
“You're enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
Sadie pulled another small box from beneath the counter.
Roman stared at it.
She pushed it toward him.
He opened it.
Inside was a key.
“To what?”
“The apartment upstairs.”
Roman looked toward the ceiling.
“You bought the apartment?”
“I bought the building.”
His eyebrows rose.
Sadie smiled proudly.
“Apparently I'm a businesswoman.”
Roman looked genuinely impressed.
“Apparently.”
She became quieter.
“I don't want to live at the estate anymore.”
Roman's expression changed.
Sadie continued before he could speak.
“I want to live here.”
“I understand.”
“And I want you here too.”
Roman went still.
Sadie smiled.
“Not your guards.”
“Negotiable.”
“Not Vincent.”
“Definitely negotiable.”
“Not ten security cameras in the bedroom.”
“Nine?”
“Roman.”
“Four.”
“Two.”
“Done.”
Sadie laughed.
“So?”
Roman looked around the café.
The little tables.
The warm lights.
The flowers.
Ordinary people having ordinary conversations.
It was everything his childhood home had never been.
Everything his father's empire had taught him was weakness.
Roman had spent his life building fortresses.
Sadie had built a home.
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
Her smile softened.
Roman stood and pulled her gently against him.
Then he noticed the carnations again.
“One condition.”
Sadie groaned.
“What?”
“No more flowers from other men.”
She pulled back.
“You don't own me, Roman Costa.”
“I know.”
“Then I can accept flowers from whoever I want.”
Roman considered that.
He didn't like it.
But he nodded.
“You're right.”
Sadie looked surprised.
“Wow.”
“What?”
“Growth.”
“Don't get accustomed to it.”
She kissed his cheek.
Roman slipped an arm around her waist.
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the café windows.
Once, Sadie had lived in a basement because staying invisible kept her safe.
Once, Roman had believed caring about another person created weakness.
Both had been wrong.
Sadie had her café.
Her independence.
Her home.
And Roman had something no empire had ever given him.
Someone who stayed because she wanted to.
Sadie looked at the bouquet one last time.
“By the way, I still prefer carnations.”
Roman sighed.
“They cost three dollars.”
“They're pretty.”
“They're weeds.”
“They're romantic.”
“They caused a security crisis.”
She laughed.
Roman kissed her forehead.
“All right.”
“What?”
“You win.”
Sadie smiled.
“I usually do.”
Roman looked down at the woman who had once been too frightened to meet his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
May you like
“You do.”
And for the first time in Roman Costa's life, losing felt remarkably like winning.
