Chapter 7 - One Light
Eight months later, Roman woke at 3:17 in the morning.
The bedroom was dark.
Completely dark.
He didn't panic.
Instead, he reached across the mattress.
Sienna was there.
“Why are you awake?” she murmured.
“The lights are off.”
She opened one eye.
“I know.”
“I didn't notice.”
Sienna smiled sleepily.
“That was the point.”
Roman stared into the darkness.
Years earlier, darkness had meant captivity.
Loss.
Nico.
Helplessness.
Now it meant something different.
Home.
He reached for Sienna's hand beneath the blanket.
She squeezed his fingers.
Downstairs, the DeLuca mansion was different now.
Most of its unnecessary lights disappeared months ago.
Lucy occupied one of the guest rooms while attending university.
Sienna had opened her own electrical engineering company.
Roman had tried investing.
She had refused.
Then negotiated ruthlessly enough to make Marco laugh for three consecutive minutes.
And Roman?
Roman was still Roman DeLuca.
Men still lowered their voices when his name was mentioned.
His black suits remained immaculate.
The dark tattoos across his hands still told stories Sienna hadn't completely learned.
He hadn't magically escaped the world he inherited.
But he was changing it.
Slowly.
Carefully.
One decision at a time.
Roman rolled toward her.
“I want to ask you something.”
“At three in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“That usually means trouble.”
He switched on the small lamp beside the bed.
Only one light.
Sienna blinked.
Roman was holding a small velvet box.
She became completely awake.
“Oh.”
“I spent three weeks preparing a speech.”
“That's terrifying.”
“I forgot all of it.”
“Even better.”
Roman opened the box.
Inside was his mother's ring.
“Sienna Cole, you walked into the worst night of my life carrying a toolbox and insulting my electrical system.”
“It was objectively terrible.”
“You stayed when everyone else either feared me or wanted something from me.”
His voice softened.
“You taught me that being able to survive alone isn't the same as living.”
Sienna's eyes filled.
Roman swallowed.
“Marry me.”
She stared at him for several seconds.
Then:
“I have one condition.”
Roman almost smiled.
“Of course you do.”
“I control the thermostat.”
“No.”
“Then no wedding.”
“Sienna.”
“Seventy-two degrees.”
“Seventy.”
“Seventy-one.”
Roman sighed.
“Fine.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
Then Sienna reached over and switched off the lamp.
Darkness filled the bedroom again.
Roman didn't flinch.
He pulled her against him.
Outside, Philadelphia slept beneath falling snow.
Inside the DeLuca mansion, the most feared man in the city finally understood something he had spent years getting wrong.
May you like
Sienna had never been the woman who kept his lights on.
She was the reason he no longer needed them.
