Chapter 7 - The Dawn at Hallowmere
At 6:00 a.m., the first light of dawn broke over the rolling hills of Westchester.
The sky turned a soft shade of pink and gold, reflecting off the wet marble steps of the grand front terrace.
Eva stood on the balcony outside the second-floor library, wearing a clean woolen sweater, holding a steaming mug of tea. The morning air was crisp, smelling of wet earth, pine needles, and fresh rain.
Behind her, the tall glass doors slid open with a soft click.
Roman stepped out onto the stone terrace, wearing a dark navy suit, his shirt collar unbuttoned, his dark hair brushed back. He looked tired, but the heavy, dark tension that had governed his posture for eleven days was completely gone.
He walked over to the stone balustrade, standing beside her, looking out at the vast estate stretching into the misty woods.
“The federal prosecutor’s office called twenty minutes ago,” Roman said quietly, taking a sip from his cup. “With Marcus’s journal and Victor’s confession, the indictment against the legitimate shipping lines has been completely dropped.”
Eva looked at him. “And what about your uncle?”
“He will spend the rest of his life in a federal facility in Pennsylvania,” Roman answered flatly. “Where he can no longer harm anyone.”
Silence settled between them—a comfortable, peaceful silence that felt entirely new within the walls of Hallowmere Manor.
“What will you do now, Eva?” Roman asked softly, turning his dark eyes toward her.
Eva looked down at her small hands, then out at the misty gardens below.
“I came here because I needed a job to pay off my brother’s college tuition,” she said honestly. “I was supposed to clean floors, wash linens, and keep my head down.”
Roman stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“You saved this house, Eva,” Roman said, his deep voice rich with emotion. “You saved my father’s legacy, you saved Sebastian, and you saved me from making a mistake that would have destroyed hundreds of lives.”
He reached out, his warm fingers gently resting against her chin, lifting her face so her pale blue eyes met his.
“I don't need a maid, Eva,” Roman whispered, his dark eyes searching hers with a intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “I need someone who isn't afraid of the dark. Someone who sees the truth when everyone else is blind.”
Eva’s breath hitched in her throat as she looked into the eyes of the most dangerous man in New York—and saw only absolute honesty and profound respect.
“Are you offering me a promotion, Mr. Bolaro?” she teased softly, a faint smile touching her lips.
May you like
Roman smiled back—a genuine, warm, devastatingly handsome smile that transformed his entire face.
“I’m offering you a place by my side,” Roman said. “If you’ll have it.”
