Page 27 of Fractured Loyalties

ROMAN

Two years later…

Nothing about this house is his anymore. Not even his office. The whole place has been gutted and remodeled, both figuratively and literally.

The office, where nothing remains of my father, is a place that is always open, now. We sunk our secrets at the bottom of the bay, and are leaving them there.

“Hey.” Nico enters with a paper cup and a folder. She’s swapped the slob look for tailored black pants and a blouse so sharp it could give a paper cut. “You look as if you want to jump,” she smiles, setting my coffee down.

I give her the best version of a smile I’m capable of. “Couldn’t be worse than last quarter’s returns.”

She slouches into the chair opposite and props her feet up on the desk. “You’re so full of shit. We’re up twelve percent. The Foundation is out-fundraising all the other trust funds in the tri-state area. You’re just bored.”

“Not bored,” I say, laughing nervously. I glance at my watch, even though there’s no meeting scheduled for hours. “I just have somewhere to be later.”

She giggles. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you? Your little precious Ivy.”

I keep my face neutral, but the twitch in my jaw gives me away. “If you call her ‘ Little Lamb’ again, I’ll throw you out the window.”

She laughs. “Relax, Romeo. She’s not going anywhere. Not after what you did.” She studies me for a second when I don’t say anything. “You know she’s going to say yes, right?”

My body goes cold. “To what?”

Nico rolls her eyes. “Don’t be thick. The ring you hid in your safe. You know, the one you had custom set with black diamonds. The one you’ve had for two months but haven’t mustered the courage to give her. That one.”

I stare at my coffee, a bitter laugh twisting out of me. “She deserves better.”

“Maybe. But she wants you, so you win again. Must be nice.” Nico’s voice softens and becomes almost gentle. “You’re not the only one who hated him, you know. I’m glad you killed him. I just wish I’d done it first.”

I frown at her, wishing someone could become dangerously obsessed with her in a good way, too. “You okay?”

She shrugs as my phone alarm goes off. “I’m getting there. You should go, though. Just don’t fuck it up. She’s the only good thing you’ve ever had.”

I stand, suddenly nervous. “You’ll hold the fort?”

She salutes goofily. “Go get your girl, Roman.”

IVY

My phone buzzes just as I step past the library’s limestone steps. I almost don’t answer when I see the caller ID, but it’s better to get it over with.

I tap to accept. “Mom, I don’t have time for another shopping trip… I have plans.”

“Meet me at the drive. I’m parked at the curb.” Irena’s voice is less commanding these days, more pleading. I like her better that way, smaller and quieter and less capable of ruining my life with a single sentence.

“Give me five,” I say, and hang up before she can offer advice about posture or hemline or the value of punctuality.

I take the long way around the science building, cut across a dead patch of lawn, and then duck through a knot of chain-smokers. None of them even glances up. I slide into the front seat of my mother’s car. There’s no hint of her old perfume, no chemical war crime of car freshener.

She’s changed even in that.

She’s waiting, hands on the wheel. She looks more human these days, her perfectly blonde hair now blended with gray. I realize she’s not a villain, and really… she never was.

She’s just imperfect like the rest of us.

“Hi,” I smile at her.

“Ivy.” She looks at me, and I can see the apology in her eyes before she even opens her mouth. “You look well.”

I shrug, adjusting my books. “You didn’t come here to check on my health, did you?”

A soft exhale. “No. I came to talk to you. About your future.”

Here it is. I let out a heavy sigh. “You can say it, you know. You can say ‘ him .’ I’m not going to freak out. Or I might, but it’ll be after the conversation.”

She laughs softly. “Oh, Ivy, it’s not about Roman.”

“Everything is about Roman,” I counter, quirking a brow. “It always has been.”

She stares out the windshield for a few beats and then turns to me. “Do you ever wish things were different?”

I think about it. “Sometimes I wish I were normal. But then I think about what normal girls put up with, and I don’t envy them. This is better. He is better.”

She shakes her head at me and then pulls the car away from the curb. I relax in the seat, letting the straps of tension fall off my shoulders.

“Why did you really want to talk to me, Mom?”

She eyes me, and then looks back at the road. “There’s something at the house I want to show you. It’s important.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s…ominous.”

She laughs. “You have no idea.”

We drive in a weird peace, the radio off, the engine purring, and the highway rolling out in a straight line ahead of us. She doesn’t ask about school or friends. She just drives, and I’m grateful.

I think we’re more alike than I give her credit for.

When the estate gates swing open, I brace for impact. I almost expect to see the same mausoleum I left two years ago, the same haunted corridors and dark facade.

But that’s not home anymore. Now, the gardens are redrawn, green and florid and buzzing with bees. There are fresh stones on the walkway, mossy and imperfect, as if someone ripped up the old path just to prove a point.

And I think that’s precisely why Roman did it.

We park in front. I get out and squint in the sunlight. Roman is waiting by the fountain, his hands in his pockets, his chin lowered. He looks as if he’s been carved out of bone, despite the six months of therapy he’d never admit to attending to anyone but me.

Irena gestures to the path. “Go with him,” she says. “I’ll catch up later.” She has a weird look on her face, as if she wants to hug me, but I ignore it and climb out.

I approach Roman. He doesn’t move until I’m a foot away, then he reaches out and takes my hand. His palm is cold, but the grip is steady.

“Nice jacket,” I hum, because it’s black and perfectly tailored. “You look like the world’s sexiest funeral director.”

He chuckles. “And you look like a librarian who runs fight clubs on the side.”

“Accurate,” I say, giggling.

He tugs me toward the gardens. The path winds through lilac and old roses and something with spikes I don’t recognize. At the far end, there’s a cluster of chairs and a low table set with black candles, a bottle of whiskey, and two crystal glasses.

“What is this?” I ask, instantly suspicious.

He steers me into a chair and sits across from me, eyes on mine. “You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

I want to make a joke, but there’s a heat building in my chest, a pressure that pushes the words back down.

“I’ve been thinking about the first time I saw you,” he says, voice low. “You were angry and sad. And dressed like you were homeless. But you were still the most magnificent woman I’d ever seen.”

My throat tightens.

He reaches into his pocket, and for a second, I think he’s going to light a cigarette or maybe just shank me and be done with it. But nope, he pulls out a tiny black velvet box with no brand. He opens it and sets it on the table between us.

Inside is a ring, a blood-red stone in its middle and black diamonds radiating out like an eclipse.

I blink at it. “Is this…?”

He doesn’t let me finish. “It’s not a bribe.

I don’t need to buy you. I just want you to know that for the rest of my life, I’m yours .

Even if you change your mind, even if you kill me in my sleep, I’m fucking yours.

It’s not about you being mine anymore…” His voice trails off. “It’s just about being yours.”

I stare at the ring, then at him, then back at the ring. My pulse is a drumline in my ears.

“You’re nervous,” I say, because his hands are shaking and mine are too.

“I know.” His eyes are wet, but he doesn’t look away. “I’m a monster, Ivy. But I want forever with you. Not the fairy tale version, the real kind. The kind where we fuck up and make each other crazy and never let go.”

A tear slips out before I can stop it. I laugh and wipe it away.

“I’d do it all again,” I say, voice thick. “Every mistake, every nightmare. If it got me here, with you, I’d make the same mess twice.”

He slides the ring onto my finger. “Marry me,” he says, like it’s a dare.

“Yes.” I lean in for a kiss, and our lips meet. It’s charged with hope for the future, and for a safety that no one could ever give me but him.

The past may haunt some people.

But I don’t feel haunted at all. I just feel at home.