Chapter 4 - The Look That Changed the Ballroom
Serena had packed three dresses, two pairs of jeans, toiletries, and almost nothing practical when the lights outside the bedroom windows suddenly illuminated the entire garden.
She frowned.
A second later, metal shutters began lowering over the first-floor windows.
Serena stepped into the hallway.
“Marta?”
No answer.
Then she heard footsteps.
Several.
Fast.
She moved toward the stairs just as the front doors opened.
Roman entered.
He had removed his tie.
Marcus followed with four security officers.
Roman looked up.
Their eyes met.
For perhaps three seconds, neither moved.
Then Roman crossed the foyer.
“Come downstairs.”
Serena folded her arms.
“I’m busy.”
“I can see that.”
His eyes had already spotted the suitcase behind her.
Something painful moved across his face.
Good, Serena thought.
Then she hated herself for thinking it.
“Where are you going?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You’re not leaving tonight.”
She laughed.
Roman immediately realized his mistake.
“That came out wrong.”
“No, Roman. It came out exactly the way everything comes out with you.”
He stopped three steps below her.
“This isn’t about us.”
“That might be the most accurate description of our marriage you’ve ever given me.”
Marcus quietly signaled the guards away.
Roman looked exhausted.
“Serena, someone was watching the hotel tonight.”
Her anger paused.
“What?”
“Across the street.”
She stared at him.
He climbed one step.
“There may have been a threat.”
“A threat against whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Against me, most likely.”
“Then why are shutters coming down over my windows?”
Roman said nothing.
And Serena suddenly understood.
Her voice softened.
“Roman.”
He looked at her.
“What happened?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation was all the confirmation she needed.
Serena descended two steps.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Roman glanced toward Marcus.
She noticed.
“Don’t look at him. Look at me.”
Roman did.
“I received a photograph.”
“Of what?”
Silence.
“Roman.”
“Us.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Us doing what?”
His eyes dropped briefly to her hand.
Serena understood again.
“The ballroom.”
“Yes.”
“When you held my hand.”
“Yes.”
A cold sensation moved through her body.
“And?”
Roman pulled out his phone.
He did not want to show her.
She could see that.
But something had shifted tonight.
Perhaps even Roman understood he no longer had the luxury of deciding which truths she could handle.
He handed her the phone.
Serena read the message.
Beautiful wife. Now we know.
Her face lost color.
Roman reached toward her automatically.
Then stopped.
His hand hovered between them.
Serena stared at it.
Even now.
Even here.
He was stopping himself.
Something inside her broke again, but differently.
“Do you see?” she whispered.
Roman frowned.
“See what?”
“You don’t even know whether you’re allowed to touch me anymore.”
“Serena—”
“You created this.”
His face tightened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“My life.”
“I am your life.”
The words escaped before Serena could stop them.
The foyer went silent.
Roman stared at her.
She continued, voice trembling now.
“At least I thought I was part of it.”
“You are.”
“Then why have I spent six years outside the locked door?”
Roman came down the final steps.
“Because people who get close to me get used.”
“By whom?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
Serena laughed bitterly.
“Exactly.”
Roman reached for her.
This time, Serena stepped backward.
Pain appeared openly in his expression.
“You don’t get to make fear the foundation of our marriage and call it protection.”
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
“You were keeping yourself safe.”
Roman went still.
Serena saw she had struck something.
Good.
Maybe truth was supposed to hurt.
“You didn’t want to feel what would happen if you loved someone visibly,” she continued. “So you made me invisible instead.”
“That isn’t what I did.”
“It is exactly what you did.”
His jaw tightened.
“If people knew what you meant to me—”
“They know now.”
“Yes.”
“Because Julian held my hand?”
Roman’s expression darkened.
“This is not about Cross.”
“For five seconds in that ballroom, it definitely was.”
Roman looked away.
Serena almost smiled.
“You were jealous.”
“No.”
“You crossed a ballroom full of people because you were calm?”
“I crossed because he was touching you.”
“That is the definition of jealousy.”
Roman rubbed a hand over his face.
Even now, under extraordinary circumstances, the absurdity of arguing about jealousy nearly made Serena laugh.
Instead she said, “What was the message on the balcony?”
Roman looked at her sharply.
“I saw you change.”
He did not answer.
“You received something. Then you told me not to touch you.”
Roman’s silence confirmed it.
Serena stepped closer.
“Tell me.”
He finally spoke.
“There was a suspected observer in the East Tower.”
“And you thought someone might be trying to determine who mattered to you.”
“Yes.”
“So when I touched you—”
“I panicked.”
Roman Duca admitting panic might have shocked Serena on any other night.
Tonight it simply made her tired.
“You could have whispered, ‘There’s a security problem. Please go inside.’”
“Yes.”
“You could have moved me away.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me afterward.”
“Yes.”
“But instead you made me feel ashamed for loving my husband.”
Roman closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
The answer stopped her.
No defense.
No explanation.
Just yes.
When he opened his eyes, there was no intimidation in them.
Only regret.
“I hurt you.”
Serena’s anger softened around the edges, which annoyed her even more.
Roman took one careful step closer.
“I thought distance would make you safer.”
“It made me lonely.”
“I know.”
“No. You know now.”
He nodded.
Fair.
Outside, a vehicle passed beyond the gates.
Every security officer in the foyer turned toward the sound.
Serena watched them.
Then looked at Roman.
“What happens now?”
“Tonight you stay here.”
Her expression cooled.
Roman corrected himself.
“I’m asking you to stay here tonight.”
“And tomorrow?”
Roman looked toward the suitcase upstairs.
“That depends on whether you still want to leave me.”
Serena did not answer.
Because she did.
And she did not.
Both truths existed at the same time.
Roman seemed to understand.
His phone vibrated again.
He checked it.
Marcus saw the screen over his shoulder.
“What?”
Roman handed him the phone.
A second photograph.
This one was not from the hotel.
It had been taken less than ten minutes earlier.
Through the gates of their home.
Serena was visible in the upstairs bedroom window.
Standing beside her open suitcase.
Underneath were four words.
She plans to leave.
Roman looked toward the dark windows.
May you like
Whoever was watching them was much closer than they thought.
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