Chapter 21

The silence in the grand foyer of the Blackwood mansion was so heavy you could have carved it with a butter knife. Roman stood halfway down the mahogany staircase, his hand frozen on the banister, looking like he had just seen a ghost—a ghost carrying three shopping bags from the mall.

Josephine, oblivious to the tectonic plates of awkwardness shifting beneath her feet, beamed like a lighthouse. She gestured grandly to Macy with her good hand. “Roman! You won’t believe it. This lovely young lady rescued me today!

“Macy?” he managed, his voice dropping an octave in sheer bewilderment.

Roman finally found his legs and descended the rest of the stairs. He stopped in front of them, his gaze sweeping over Macy’s flustered face. “Macy helped you?”

Josephine’s eyebrows shot up. Her eyes darted between Roman’s stunned expression and Macy’s “I-want-to-evaporate-into-the-floor” look. “Oh! You know each other? Roman, you didn’t tell me you knew such a wonderful woman!” She gasped, her face lighting up with maternal mischief. “Wait… is she the one? Is she your girlfriend? Or…” she leaned in, her voice dropping to a loud stage whisper, “is she the fiancée you’ve been hiding from me?”

At the word fiancée, Macy’s guilt and fear were suddenly eclipsed by a sharp, irritated spark. She hadn’t forgotten the blonde lady lounging in Roman’s chair.

“Oh, he already has a fiancée, ma’am,” Macy said, her tone dripping with accidental venom.

Roman’s head whipped toward her, his eyes wide. “What?”

Josephine clapped her hands, her excitement doubling. “Oh! You already have a fiancée? Roman, you sly boy! Why didn’t you tell me? What is her name? Do I know her?”

Macy didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Her name is Christy.”

Josephine’s face wrinkled in thought. “Christy? Oh! My friend’s daughter, Christy? The one who went to school in Switzerland?”

“No,” Roman snapped, his irritation finally bubbling to the surface.

“Oh,” Josephine blinked, confused. “Then which Christy? Is it the senator’s niece? Or that girl from the charity gala?”

“Mom!” Roman groaned, rubbing his temples as if a migraine were setting in. “Christy is not my fiancée.”

Josephine huffed, crossing her arms over her cream-colored suit. “Well, then what is your fiancée’s name? Don’t keep me in suspense, Roman. I deserve to know!”

“Mom, I don’t have a fiancée!” Roman shouted, the sound echoing off the marble walls. “I am not in a relationship. With anyone. Period.”

Macy stood frozen. The words hit her like a bucket of cold water. Not in a relationship? Her mind flashed back to Christy sitting at his desk, calling him “honey,” and talking about their “future.” She felt a sudden, dizzying wave of relief, followed immediately by the realization that she had spent the last four days sulking for absolutely no reason.

Josephine looked back and forth between them, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Okay… if you aren’t engaged, how on earth do you both know each other? And don’t lie to your injured mother.”

Roman and Macy spoke at the exact same time.

“She’s my school friend,” Roman said. “I’m his Personal Assistant,” Macy said.

They both stopped, looked at each other, and then immediately tried to correct themselves—again, simultaneously.

“She’s my Personal Assistant,” Roman corrected. “He’s my school friend,” Macy blurted out.

They both stopped again, blinking in a stunned silence.

Josephine threw her head back and let out a delighted laugh. “First of all, you both need to go into a corner and come to a conclusion about whether you are school friends or colleagues. It’s very confusing.” She turned a sharp, pointed look at Roman. “And you, gentleman. You told me months ago that you were ‘working’ on a relationship. And yet, here we are, and the only girl in your house is a ‘colleague’ who seems to want to strangle you. I am giving you one month. One month to decide on your future. If you don’t decide, I will decide for you. And trust me, you won’t like my choice—I’ll pick that boring girl from the country club who only talks about her horses.”

With a final, dramatic flourish of her bandaged hand, Josephine turned to leave.

“Mom!” Roman called out as she took a few steps away. “You didn’t explain the bandage! What happened?”

Josephine didn’t even turn around. She just waved her hand over her shoulder. “Ask Macy! She’ll explain everything. And Macy, dear? You’re having lunch with us. No excuses!”

Macy started to protest, but one look at Josephine’s retreating back told her it was useless. She simply nodded, feeling like she had been swept up in a hurricane named Blackwood.

Roman led Macy out to the garden. It was a sprawling, manicured paradise of white roses and stone paths, but the beauty was lost on Roman, who looked like he was vibrating with frustration.

He stopped near a fountain and turned to face her. “Macy. Who told you Christy was my fiancée?”

Macy worried her lower lip, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Christy told me. When she came to the office on Monday. She was sitting in your chair… she told me she was the future boss. She said she was your fiancée.”

Roman closed his eyes and let out a long, weary breath. “I seriously don’t know what that woman was thinking. Or why she thinks she can just manifest a marriage into existence by lying to my staff.” He looked at Macy, his gaze softening. “We broke up years ago, Macy. Back in college. It was a disaster, and she’s been trying to claw her way back ever since I became CEO. She’s nothing to me.”

Macy felt a massive surge of guilt. She had spent the last week ignoring his emails, acting “professional” to the point of being cold, and crying into her pizza—all because she took the word of a woman who was clearly delusional.

“I… I should have asked you,” Macy whispered. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“You think?” Roman teased, a ghost of his usual smirk returning. “You were so ‘professional’ in your emails this week that I thought I’d accidentally hired a robot.”

Macy laughed, the tension finally snapping. “Well, you were acting very stressed. What was that trip about anyway? You left looking like the world was ending.”

“There was a major labor dispute at the new overseas site,” Roman explained, leaning against a stone pillar. “It was a mess of legalities and logistics. I’ve been up for forty-eight hours straight resolving it. I just got back this morning.”

Macy was about to ask another question when her phone began to vibrate violently in her pocket. She pulled it out. Claire.

“Just a minute,” Macy said to Roman. She stepped a few paces away and answered. “Hello?”

“Macy! Where are you?” Claire’s voice was frantic. “Sophie and I finally made it through the traffic. We’re at the mall, but we can’t find you anywhere!”

“Oh! Claire, I’m so sorry. I’m… I’m at Roman’s house.”

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. Then, “What? Roman’s house? Like… his actual house?”

Macy heard a scuffling sound—Sophie had clearly snatched the phone or put it on speaker. “Macy!” Sophie’s voice came through. “Why and how are you at Roman’s house? Did he kidnap you? Are you in a closet?”

“No, I’m not in a closet!” Macy hissed, glancing back at Roman, who was watching her with an amused expression. “Roman’s mom invited me for lunch. It’s a long story involving a mall bathroom and a hairline fracture. I’ll tell you everything when I get home.”

“Wait, wait!” Claire yelled. “Macy, just tell me one thing. Is she there? The blonde? The fiancée?”

Macy looked at Roman. He winked at her.

Macy let out a bright, genuine laugh. “No, Claire. Christy is not his fiancée. She never was.”

“Yes!” Sophie cheered in the background. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year! I couldn’t have handled the suspense of waiting until you got home.”

“Alright, go have your fancy lunch with the CEO,” Claire said, sounding relieved. “Sophie and I are going to find the biggest burger in this mall. We’ll see you later!”

Macy hung up, a wide smile still on her face. She turned back to Roman, who was standing with his arms crossed.

Chapter 22

The sun was warm against the white roses of the garden as Roman and Macy walked slowly toward the stone fountain. The tension of the morning had evaporated, leaving behind a comfortable, electric hum between them.

“So,” Roman started, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked at her. “Everything settled? No more thinking I’m hiding a secret wife in the basement?”

Macy felt a flush of heat in her cheeks. “I told Sophie and Claire I was having lunch here. They’re still in shock, but yeah… I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I guess I’m just not used to ‘future bosses’ claiming they own the place.” She paused, her curiosity getting the better of her. “But Roman, your mom seems to know a lot about the ‘Christy’ circle. Does she actually know her?”

Roman nodded thoughtfully. “Likely. Her mother is a prominent member of my mom’s country club. They run in the same social circles.”

“Did you ever tell your mom about the breakup?” Macy asked softly.

“She knows I was dating someone back then and that it ended badly, but I never told her who it was or what specifically happened. I didn’t want her getting involved in the drama.”

Macy looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Actually… what did happen? Why did you two break up?”

Roman stopped walking and turned to her, a mischievous, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “Someone is very interested in my romantic history today. Should I be worried, Rivers?”

Macy smiled back, undeterred. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say. I was just curious because… well, she’s beautiful and clearly rich. You two probably looked like the perfect ‘power couple’ back then.”

Roman’s smile faded into something more cynical. “We were famous for it on campus, certainly. But Christy wanted two things: fame and wealth. At the time, I was keeping my identity as the Blackwood heir a secret—I wanted to know people liked me for me. She thought I was just a talented student with a scholarship. So, she secretly started dating my so called ‘friend,’ Vivian Mcphee, the heir to Mcphee Industries. She thought he was the real prize.”

His jaw tightened at the memory. “I caught them red-handed when I tried to surprise her with an unannounced visit. If she had known I was a Blackwood, she would have stayed. I’m just glad I saw her real character before it was too late. Now that Mcphee Industries has collapsed due to his poor management, she’s realized her mistake and is trying to come back.”

Macy gasped, the name hitting her like a physical blow. “Mcphee Industries? Roman, that was the primary client at the firm where I used to work. When they went under, my company couldn’t recover. They closed the doors overnight, and that’s how I lost my job.

Roman looked at her, a flash of genuine regret in his eyes. “The world is smaller than we think, isn’t it? Well, that’s enough about my past disasters. What about you? Any boyfriend, lover, or fiancé I should be worried about?”

Macy laughed, a light, slightly sad sound. “I had someone in college. But after my dad passed away and the money vanished… let’s just say I found out very quickly who the real people in my life were. Only Sophie and Claire stayed. I didn’t want to hurt myself anymore with fake relationships after that.”

Roman stepped closer, his gaze dropping to her lips. The sound of the fountain seemed to fade into the background. “Don’t worry, Macy,” he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn’t hide. “You’ll find your true love soon. Maybe sooner than you think.”

Macy looked up at him, her breath hitching. They were inches apart, the air between them charged with a sudden, heavy longing. Roman began to lean in, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

“Lunch is served! You are both requested in the dining hall!”

The voice of the house steward cut through the moment like a siren. They both jumped back, faces turning several shades of red. Roman cleared his throat, adjusting his jacket.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm.

“We shall,” Macy replied, her heart still hammering against her ribs.

The dining room was a masterpiece of mahogany and silver. Lunch was a delicious, multi-course affair, but Macy barely tasted the food. She spent most of the time helping Josephine, who was struggling to navigate her plate with her bandaged hand.

Josephine watched Macy with an increasingly fond expression, asking a barrage of questions about her family, her upbringing, and her interests. Macy told her about her mother, Beatrice, and their quiet life, all while carefully sipping her soup.

Suddenly, Josephine set her spoon down and looked at them both. “So,” she said casually. “Why don’t you two just marry?”

Macy immediately choked on her soup, a coughing fit taking over as she scrambled for her napkin. Roman stopped chewing mid-bite, staring at his mother in absolute, wide-eyed shock.

“Mom!” Roman managed to wheeze out.

“Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me,” Josephine said, waving her good hand dismissively. “I’m not desperate for a daughter-in-law, but I have eyes. I see how you two look at each other across the table. It’s fine if you need time to figure out your ‘professional’ relationship, but I know what I see.”

“Thanks,” Macy whispered in a low, flustered voice, finally catching her breath.

“Mom, please eat your lunch and take your rest,” Roman said, his face a deep shade of crimson. He looked at Macy apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Macy. I think it’s her pain medication talking. It makes her… blunt.”

“It’s okay,” Macy laughed weakly, though her heart was still racing.

After lunch, Josephine insisted on a warm hug. “Come and see me again, Macy. Any time. I mean it.”

The drive back to the city was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. When Roman pulled up to the entrance of Macy’s new apartment building, he saw two familiar figures standing by the door.

Sophie and Claire were practically vibrating with curiosity, their eyes widening as they recognized Roman’s sleek black car.

Roman parked and stepped out, walking around to open the door for Macy. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, her two best friends converged on them, their faces a mix of excitement and “we-need-the-details-right-now.”

Roman looked at the three friends and then back at Macy, a soft, private smile on his face. “I think I’ll leave you to your interrogation,” he teased.

Chapter 23

The evening air was cool, but the atmosphere outside Macy’s apartment was heated with the playful energy of her friends. As Roman prepared to head back to his car, Claire and Sophie stepped forward, their eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Roman, you have no idea,” Claire started, ignoring Macy’s frantic hand gestures. “You should have seen Macy this past week. The second she thought you had a fiancée, it was like the world had ended.”

Macy’s face turned a deep, burning scarlet. She lunged forward, trying to clap her hands over Claire’s mouth. “Don’t listen to them! They’re delirious from hunger!”

“Delirious?” Sophie laughed, dodging Macy’s reach. “She was looking like the lead actress in a tragic movie about love failure. We thought we were going to have to stage an intervention with tissues and ice cream.”

Roman looked at Macy, a surprised but deeply humored expression crossing his face. He caught her eye, watching her struggle to keep her friends quiet.

“Roman, they are just kidding!” Macy pleaded, finally giving up on the physical struggle. “Your mom is alone, she needs her rest. You should really go.”

Roman laughed, a rich, genuine sound that made Macy’s heart flutter despite her embarrassment. He turned a mock-sinister smile toward Sophie and Claire. “Well, it seems my mother is on your side. She’s already convinced that Macy is going to strangle me to death if I don’t get my act together.”

“Roman!” Macy groaned.

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving,” Roman said, holding up his hands in surrender. He walked to his car, waving a final goodbye to the three of them before pulling away into the night.

The moment his taillights disappeared, Sophie and Claire pounced. They didn’t even wait for the elevator, practically dragging Macy up the stairs and into her bedroom. They pushed her onto the bed and sat on either side of her like a two-woman jury.

“Talk. Every detail. Now,” Claire commanded.

Macy sighed and gave in, recounting the entire day—the mall, the rescue of Josephine, the shock of the mansion, and finally, the awkward lunch where Josephine had casually suggested marriage.

Claire’s jaw dropped. “So… when is the wedding? Am I the maid of honor or the head bridesmaid?”

Macy threw a pillow at her. “There is no wedding! It was a joke from his mother because she saw us looking at each other.”

“Macy, look,” Sophie said, her tone turning a bit more serious. “Usually, a mother-in-law jumping straight to a proposal is a sign. She obviously sees what we see. Roman has already fallen for you. But I feel like you’re the one dragging your feet now. It’s time you take the initiative. Talk to him properly.”

“I will,” Macy said, her voice softening. “He told me he’s out with a client for the rest of the weekend and won’t be taking calls until Monday morning. I’ll talk to him then.”

“Listen to that,” Claire teased, nudging Sophie. “The CEO is reporting his weekend schedule to his PA. Usually, it’s the other way around!”

The room filled with laughter as Macy buried her face in her hands, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

Monday morning, however, did not bring the romantic resolution Macy had hoped for.

Inside the Blackwood Industries executive suite, Roman was pacing his office, his brow furrowed with anxiety. He had been trying to reach Macy since 8:00 AM, but her phone just rang and rang until it went to voicemail. He checked the lobby records—neither Claire nor Sophie had checked in yet either.

He dialed Macy’s number one more time, his heart thumping against his ribs. This time, the call was picked up, but the voice on the other end wasn’t the one he was looking for.

“Who is this?” Roman asked sharply. “Is Macy there?”

“Hi, Roman. It’s Sophie,” the voice said, sounding rushed and out of breath. “Macy left her phone at home in the chaos. I just ran back to pick it up for her.”

Roman felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. “Chaos? What happened? Is she okay?”

“I doubt any of us are coming into the office today, Roman,” Sophie said, her voice cracking slightly. “Macy’s mom was rushed to the hospital last night. She was admitted to the emergency ward. The doctor says she’s stable for the moment, but it was a close call. Macy didn’t even realize she’d forgotten her phone until an hour ago.”

Roman’s grip on his desk tightened. He was about to ask which hospital when a sharp knock sounded at his door. A group of investors he had been scheduled to meet for months walked in, followed by his head of legal.

“I… I have a meeting starting right now,” Roman said into the phone, his voice tight with frustration. “I’ll call Macy back in an hour. Please, tell her I’m thinking of her. Take care of her, Sophie.”

He hung up, forced to put on his professional mask, though his mind was already miles away in a sterile hospital hallway.

At the hospital, the air smelled of antiseptic and grief. Macy sat in a plastic chair, her eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. Sophie arrived shortly after, handing her the phone and relaying Roman’s message.

Macy barely nodded. Her world had narrowed down to the swinging doors of the Intensive Care Unit. Claire, who had been sitting with her, looked up as the cardiologist approached them with a grim expression.

The news was devastating.

“Macy,” Claire said, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder after the doctor left. “He said she’s in a critical position. Her heart is failing. She needs a transplant, Macy. Immediately.” “I checked the insurance… they won’t cover it. They say it’s a pre-existing condition.

Macy felt a sob catch in her throat. We don’t have that kind of money, Claire. Where are we going to find enough for a heart transplant?”

“Can we talk to Roman?” Sophie asked quietly. “He would help in a heartbeat, Macy. He has the resources.”

“No,” Macy said firmly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I don’t want to turn our relationship into a debt. I don’t want him to feel like he has to save me. Is there anything that can be done officially? Through the company’s emergency fund or employee assistance?”

Claire thought for a moment, her eyes sharpening with determination. “Macy, I’m going to the office right now. I’ll check the corporate bylaws and speak with the HR director. I’ll find a way to make this official. But promise me…” Claire gripped Macy’s hand. “If there is no official way, you have to let Roman help personally. We cannot lose Beatrice because of your pride.”

Macy looked at the closed doors of her mother’s room and slowly nodded. “I promise. Just… try the office first.”

Claire stood up, grabbed her bag, and sprinted toward the exit, leaving Macy and Sophie in the echoing silence of the waiting room.

Chapter 24

Claire moved through the office like a whirlwind. She spent a frantic hour in the HR department, discussing every possible avenue for Macy’s situation. When she finally emerged, her face was set in a grim line. She headed straight for the top floor. As she reached the executive suite, the heavy doors to Roman’s cabin opened, and the investors filed out, their high-stakes meeting finally concluded.

Claire stepped inside immediately. Roman looked up, his face etched with surprise and immediate concern.

“Claire? I was just about to head to the hospital to meet Macy,” Roman said, already grabbing his coat. “How is her mother doing? Give me the news.”

Claire quickly relayed the harrowing details: the sudden decline, the critical need for a transplant, and the staggering cost of the surgery.

“Did you find a donor?” Roman asked urgently.

“Yes, we have one,” Claire replied. “But the doctors are adamant. The surgery has to happen immediately. There’s no time to waste.”

“Then go ahead,” Roman said without a second thought. “I can pay for the surgery right now. Tell them to start the preparations.”

Claire sighed, shaking her head. “But Macy won’t accept your private help, Roman. I suggested it, and she rejected the idea instantly. She isn’t feeling good about taking personal money from you.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Is there any way we can make it official? Something through the company?”

The rejection hit Roman hard. A shadow passed over his face, a mix of hurt and a growing, firm anger. He felt pushed away at the very moment he wanted to be closest to her. He couldn’t understand why, in such a life-or-death crisis, she was still holding onto her pride and refusing his support.

“She won’t take my help?” Roman asked, his voice hardening into a firm, professional edge. He turned toward his desk, his jaw tight. “Did you talk to HR about the employee assistance fund?”

“I did,” Claire said. “But they told me it can only cover thirty percent of the total cost. I don’t know what else to do. Is there any other way?”

Roman stood silent for a long moment, staring at the polished surface of his desk. When he finally looked up, his eyes were cold and decisive. “We have no choice then. We have to go with a contract.”

Claire blinked, confused. “A contract? What kind of contract?”

Roman began to explain the details of the agreement he had in mind. As he spoke, the color drained from Claire’s face. She looked at him, her expression shifting from confusion to a deep, unsettled realization.

“Will she even agree to this, Roman?” Claire asked softly.

“She doesn’t want my direct help,” Roman replied, his voice firm and unwavering. “I think she’ll agree to this because it involves her directly. ” He looked at Claire with an unyielding gaze. “Call her. Ask her to come to the office right now. I’ll prepare the agreement.”

“Roman…” Claire whispered, seeing the coldness in his eyes. “Please, just… be lenient on her while you’re preparing the papers.”

“I’ll try,” Roman said, though his voice remained stern and distant.

At the hospital, Macy’s phone buzzed. She answered quickly, her heart in her throat. When Claire told her to come to the office immediately because the money was being arranged, Macy felt a surge of pure, dizzying joy.

“Will I really get the money, Claire? Is it enough to cover the surgery?”

“Yes,” Claire said, her voice sounding strangely flat. “It will cover the cost. Just get here as fast as you can.”

“I’m on my way!” Macy cried, tears of relief finally falling.

When she reached the office, she found Claire waiting for her. “Macy, listen,” Claire said, pulling her aside. “Thirty percent is coming from the employee assistance program. But for the remaining seventy percent, I had to speak with Roman.”

Macy’s face clouded over instantly. “I told you, Claire! I don’t want his personal help. If I ever start a real relationship with him, I don’t want to look like a gold digger. I want to stand on my own feet.”

Claire looked at her with sad, knowing eyes. “You know what? Just do what I say. Go into the cabin, sign the papers, and leave. The money will be credited, and the surgery can start. That’s all that matters right now.”

“What papers?” Macy asked, her brow furrowed. “What am I signing?”

“They are official papers,” Claire said, gently pushing her toward the door. “Just go in and do it. For your mom.”

Macy took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy oak doors. The room felt different—colder, more formal. Roman was sitting behind his desk, a stack of documents already waiting. He didn’t greet her with a smile or a kind word. He looked stern, his gaze fixed on the files in front of him.

Macy walked toward the desk. She looked down at the agreement, the words swimming before her tired eyes. She didn’t read a single sentence; she didn’t have the strength to process the legalese. But as she hovered the pen over the signature line, she could somehow guess what this was.

She wasn’t just signing for the money. She was signing her life away.

Chapter 25

Macy stood in the centre of Roman’s office, the air thick with a tension that felt entirely different from the warmth of their lunch just a day ago. The thick stack of papers on the mahogany desk seemed to pulse with a life of its own. She didn’t look down at the fine print; instead, her eyes were locked on Roman’s face.

Roman was a master of the corporate mask. Though his chest tightened with concern every time he saw the dark circles under her eyes and her trembling hands, he maintained a perfectly straight, professional face. He was still reeling from the sting of her rejection—the fact that she would rather sign a cold legal document than accept his hand in support.

“Did you see your mother?” Roman asked, his voice steady and low. “How is she doing now?”

Macy took a shallow breath, her voice barely a whisper. “I saw her through the glass… from the outside. She’s on a ventilator. The doctors say she’s stable for the moment, but it’s a fragile stability. She needs the transplant immediately, Roman. There’s no more time to wait.”

Roman nodded slowly. “Why didn’t you inform me about her health earlier? Why did I have to find out through Sophie?”

“I was completely confused,” Macy admitted, her fingers twisting the hem of her jacket. “Everything happened so fast. Claire and Sophie were incredibly helpful, but my mind was a blur. Only this morning, when the doctor said her vitals were manageable, was I finally able to breathe properly. That’s when I realized I’d left my phone at home in the rush.”

Roman leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “It’s okay. I understand the pressure you’re under. But I’ll ask you one more time—do you need any personal help from me?”

The offer hung in the air, a golden bridge he was extending to her. But Macy, fueled by a stubborn need to protect the purity of whatever was growing between them, shook her head. “It’s okay, Roman. Really. It will be better for everyone if this is handled officially. I don’t want any shadows hanging over us.”

Roman’s jaw tightened. “Fine. If you want official, we will do official. Read and sign this,” he said, sliding the agreement across the table. “The moment your signature is on that page, the money will be credited. You’ll have the confirmation before you even reach the hospital parking lot.”

Macy looked at the document, her heart pounding. She looked up at him, a sudden, wild thought crossing her mind. “What is this agreement really about, Roman? Is it one of those contract marriages? Are you going to pay for the surgery and then force me to marry you just to please your mother and fulfill her one-month ultimatum?”

Roman stared at her, his expression completely blank. A long silence stretched between them before he spoke. “Are you a fan of those web novels, Macy? The ones with the ‘Contract Marriage’ tags and the brooding CEOs?”

Macy blinked, her face flushing. “I… I might read a few. Why are you asking?”

“Because I can sense the fictional drama dripping off your words,” Roman said, his voice dry. “No, Macy. This isn’t a novel. First, read the agreement properly. It is a loan agreement. Claire made it very clear that you refused any private help from me, so this is a strictly corporate arrangement.”

Macy looked down, feeling a wave of embarrassment. I should have thought before I spoke, she scolded herself.

“The middle pages detail the payment structure,” Roman continued, his tone turning clinical. “It outlines the monthly salary deduction and the duration of the term. Until the full amount is repaid, you are under a binding service contract. You cannot resign from your position at Blackwood Industries for any reason. Sign it.”

Macy began to flip through the pages. As her eyes landed on the figures in the repayment section, her blood ran cold. Her face paled, and she looked at Roman in total shock.

“What is this?” she gasped. “The deduction… Roman, after the loan payment, I will only receive ten dollars a month as my salary? Ten dollars? How am I supposed to pay for my mother’s post-op medicines?”

Roman remained perfectly cool. “Use the company’s executive medical benefit plan. It covers dependents. That was in your orientation packet.”

“And what about my food?” Macy’s voice rose in desperation.

“You can get free meals at the corporate cafeteria during the work week,” Roman replied smoothly. “And on the weekends, I suppose you’ll have to make that ten dollars stretch.”

Macy felt like the room was spinning. “But my rent? My other expenses? How can I live on ten dollars?”

“You asked for this, Macy,” Roman reminded her, his voice firm. “You insisted that this be official. You refused private help. An official loan of this size requires an aggressive repayment schedule to be approved by the board.”

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. “I am asking you for the very last time. It’s not too late. I can tear this paper up right now and pay your mother’s bill out of my personal account. No debt, no ten-dollar salary, no contract. Just say yes.”

Macy looked at the pen in her hand. She thought of the way Christy had looked at her, and the way she wanted to be able to stand in front of Josephine as an equal, not a charity case. She gritted her teeth.

“No,” Macy said firmly. She put the pen to the paper and signed her name with a defiant flourish. She gave the folder back to him.

Roman didn’t say a word. He picked up his desk phone. “Claire, come in here.”

When Claire entered, Roman handed her the signed agreement. “Process the payment for Ms. Rivers immediately. Contact the hospital and confirm the wire transfer.”

Claire took the folder, her eyes scanning the terms. She looked at the salary line and gasped. “Oh, Roman! I thought you were being heartless when you told me you were drawing up a loan agreement. I honestly thought the take-home pay would be zero. But you’re actually giving her ten dollars a month? You’re so generous.”

Macy looked at Claire, stunned. “It was going to be zero?”

“Yes,” Claire said, looking at Roman with a strange expression.

Macy’s phone chimed with a message from Sophie: The surgeons are scrubbing in. They need the confirmation now!

“I have to go,” Macy said, her voice thick with emotion. She looked at Roman, but he was already looking back at his computer screen. She turned and ran out of the office.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Roman’s composure broke. He stood up and kicked his desk chair, a sound of pure frustration escaping him. “What kind of pride is this, Claire? Why is she rejecting me? I thought we were getting closer, but she treats my help like it’s poison!”

Claire walked over, her voice calm and steady. “Roman, you need to control your anger. She isn’t rejecting you. She really likes you—she wants a relationship with you more than anything.”

“Then why is she pushing me away when she needs me most?”

“Because,” Claire explained softly, “she doesn’t want that relationship to start with a debt she can never pay back. She’s seen how people look at you, Roman. She wants to be your partner, not your project. She feels it’s her responsibility to take care of her mother, and she’s terrified that if you pay for it, she’ll always be ‘the girl you bought’ in your eyes.”

Roman’s eyes softened, the anger draining out of him to be replaced by a lingering ache. He sank back into his chair. “Whatever. Let her get through this surgery first. I’ll deal with her pride later.”

Claire looked back down at the contract. “But Roman, seriously… ten dollars? How is she going to survive? She has to commute, she has to live.”

“Read Clause 15, Claire,” Roman said quietly.

Claire flipped to the back of the document. Her eyes widened as she read the fine print: ‘The employee shall be eligible for special project incentives and performance bonuses at the CEO’s discretion. These incentives are exempt from loan deduction and shall be paid directly to the employee.’

Claire’s face brightened. “Bonuses? You’re going to give her extra work just so you can pay her a real income under the table?”

“It’s in the agreement,” Roman said, a tiny, almost invisible smirk touching his lips. “She just didn’t bother to read it. Now, take that document to HR, then get to the hospital. Stay with her. Give me updates every hour. I’ll have someone else handle your workload for the week.”

“Thanks, Roman,” Claire said, heading for the door. “You’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

Chapter 26

The flickering fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway seemed to pulse in time with Macy’s racing heart. Hours had bled into one another, marked only by the muffled sounds of stretchers and the hushed whispers of nurses. When the double doors of the surgical wing finally swung open, the three women stood up in unison, their breath held in a collective silence.

The lead surgeon, still in his blue scrubs, pulled down his mask and walked toward Macy. He offered a weary but reassuring smile. “The surgery was a success,” he said, and the words felt like they had physical weight, lifting the crushing pressure from Macy’s chest. “Beatrice’s heart is beating on its own. We need to keep her under close observation for at least five days. Depending on her recovery speed, we’ll decide on a discharge date.”

Macy didn’t even have the strength to reply. She simply collapsed into Sophie and Claire’s arms, tears of pure, unfiltered relief streaming down her face. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you two. You are my angels in disguise.”

“It’s okay, Macy. It’s over now,” Claire whispered, stroking her hair.

“Don’t worry, girl,” Sophie added, her own eyes misty. “No matter what, we will always be here. It’s time to relax. You’ve been running on adrenaline for forty-eight hours.”

Claire, always the practical one, took charge. “We need to sleep. We can take turns looking after Beatrice; we shouldn’t all be here at once. Plus, Roman told me to tell you that you should take a week of leave.”

At the mention of Roman’s name, the reality of the previous day came crashing back to Macy. She thought of the cold, formal office and the thick stack of papers she had signed without a second glance. “A week of leave,” Macy murmured. “That’s good. I need to start preparing my budget for ten dollars a month. I forgot that part in the chaos.”

Sophie froze. “What ten dollars?”

Macy explained the terms of the loan agreement—the aggressive repayment schedule that left her with almost nothing. Sophie’s jaw dropped in shock. “Are you nuts? You could have just accepted Roman’s help directly! Why would you sign something so heartless?”

“Because that wouldn’t create a healthy relationship,” Macy defended, her voice tired but firm. “I don’t want to be a charity case.”

Claire reached into her bag and pulled out a duplicate copy of the agreement. “Macy, you didn’t read this properly. You were too stressed. Look at Clause 15. Your incentives and bonuses are completely unaffected by the loan. Roman is already planning to give you high-priority projects that include massive incentives. He’s not going to let you starve.”

Macy blinked, staring at the paper. “Really? He… he did that?”

“Yes,” Claire said, handing over the folder. “Go home, read it properly, and for heaven’s sake, do not push him away again. He felt incredibly hurt when you rejected his help. He thought you didn’t trust him.”

Macy looked at the contract, a small, guilty smile touching her lips. “It might not look good to him now, but he will understand later why I had to do it this way.”

While Macy was finding hope in a hospital room, a very different kind of manoeuvring was taking place across town.

The Country Club’s annual Charity Gala was a sea of sparkling chandeliers, silk gowns, and the delicate clinking of crystal. Josephine Blackwood moved through the crowd with the grace of a woman who had spent her life in these halls. She had mostly recovered from her fall, though she wore her elegant wrap carefully to hide the brace on her wrist.

As she was chatting with a group of old acquaintances, a hand touched her shoulder. Josephine turned to find a woman standing there who looked like a polished portrait of old-world wealth—and even older-world ambition.

“Sarah?” Josephine gasped, her eyes widening. “Sarah Williams? It’s been more than ten years!”

“It has,” Sarah said, offering a practiced, bright smile. “Peter couldn’t make it today—business trip, you know how it is—but I couldn’t miss this.”

Josephine introduced Sarah to her circle as one of the founding members of the club. They reminisced for a few moments before Sarah turned and beckoned to someone behind her. “Come here, darling. I want you to meet someone.”

A tall, strikingly beautiful blonde woman stepped forward. It was Christy. She wore a look of studied humility, though her eyes were sharp as diamonds.

“This is my only daughter, Christy,” Sarah announced.

The pleasantries were exchanged, and the conversation naturally turned to family. “Thomas passed away five years ago,” Josephine said softly. “My only son, Roman, is the CEO of Blackwood Industries now.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of calculation passing through them. “Blackwood Industries? I remember Roman when he was just a little boy. I had no idea he had grown into such a successful man.”

“He is a handsome young man, if I do say so myself,” Josephine said proudly.

“And is he married?” Sarah asked, leaning in.

“Not yet,” Josephine sighed. “I keep asking, but he says he isn’t in a relationship.”

Sarah glanced at Christy, who gave a subtle, practiced sigh of relief. “What a coincidence,” Sarah said smoothly. “My Christy is also single. She’s so focused on her charity work and her studies that she hasn’t found the right person. Why don’t we play matchmaker?”

Christy played her part perfectly. “Mom, no. Please. I’m not interested in being ‘set up.’”

Josephine laughed gently. “My son is the same. He isn’t interested in being forced into anything. We shouldn’t pressure them.”

Christy realized she might have played the ‘reluctant’ card a bit too well. She needed an opening. “But Mrs. Blackwood,” Christy said with a sweet, admiring tone. “You seem like such a lovely person. Perhaps I could at least meet him? For my mother’s sake, and yours?”

Sarah seized the moment. “Is it okay if Christy drops by to see him? Just a friendly meeting?”

Josephine thought of Macy. She liked the girl, but since neither Roman nor Macy had given her a straight answer about their status, she figured a little competition wouldn’t hurt—or perhaps it would push Roman to finally admit his feelings for the assistant. “Yes,” Josephine said. “He’s a workaholic, just like his father. It’s better if you meet him at the office.”

Christy’s heart hammered. She knew Roman would never let her past the lobby again after their last encounter. “He might not know me,” Christy lied smoothly. “How will I get through security?”

“I’ll give you a letter and my personal card,” Josephine said. “That should get you right up to the executive suite.”

Christy’s smile was genuine this time—a victory smile.

Later, after Josephine had moved on to other guests, Sarah pulled Christy into a quiet corner, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Do not mess this up again, Christy. I was stunned to find out Josephine was the Blackwood matriarch. Our business is struggling, and your father and I are relying on you to secure this connection. Do you understand?”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Christy said, her eyes cold. “I’ll make him accept me this time. I have the mother’s blessing now.”

“Good,” Sarah hissed. “I didn’t realize Blackwood was theirs. They were in such debt years ago, running under different names… I didn’t know they had become this powerful. Don’t let this opportunity slip away.”

Christy nodded, her mind already spinning. She had the card. She had the letter. And this time, she wouldn’t let anyone stand in her way.

Chapter 27

The fifteen days following Beatrice’s surgery had been a blur of antiseptic smells, hushed hospital conversations, and the slow, steady rhythm of recovery. Finally, the day came when the doctors signed the discharge papers. Macy, Claire, and Sophie had brought Beatrice home to their new apartment, transforming the sunniest room into a sanctuary of comfort and healing.

Claire and Sophie had been rocks of support. Even though they had returned to the Blackwood tower a week after the surgery, they used every lunch break and every evening to check in. Roman, however, had been a phantom. He had messaged Macy exactly once—a brief, clinical text approving her extended leave. There were no flowers, no check-ins, no “How are you?”

Yet, Macy knew he was hovering in the background. Claire had let it slip that Roman was calling her daily for updates on Beatrice’s recovery. He was like a silent satellite, orbiting her life but refusing to touch down.

On their final night of domestic peace before Macy’s return to work, the three friends sat in the living room with steaming mugs of coffee.

“I finally feel like I can breathe again,” Macy sighed, leaning back against the sofa. “The nightmare is over. Mom is safe, the money is settled, and the medication is stocked. I feel ten pounds lighter.”

“We’re just glad she’s okay, Macy,” Sophie said, squeezing her hand.

“Did Roman… ask about me today?” Macy asked, trying to sound casual.

Claire shook her head. “I didn’t actually see him today. He’s been buried in the new overseas government project. That massive building has to be ready in two months for the grand opening, so he’s been flying back and forth. He’s quite busy, but I’m sure he knows you’re coming back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” Macy said determinedly. “But Sophie, about the caretaker… Grace seems wonderful, but I don’t have the money for her salary yet. My ten-dollar paycheck isn’t going to cover a retired nurse.”

Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t be silly. I’ve already handled it. You can pay me back once those incentives start rolling in. Grace is a cousin’s referral and she’s a saint. Just focus on getting back into the swing of things.”

The next morning, Macy felt a flutter of nervous excitement as she stepped into the Blackwood Industries lobby. She half-expected Roman to be away at the site, but to her surprise, when she entered the executive suite, he was sitting right there behind his mahogany desk.

Macy felt a grin break across her face. “Good morning, Roman!” she chirped, walking toward him with a spring in her step.

Roman didn’t look up immediately. He continued signing a document, his pen scratching rhythmically against the paper. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were cool and professional. There was no twinkle, no smirk.

“Good morning, Ms. Rivers,” he said.

Macy blinked. The ‘Ms. Rivers’ hit her like a splash of ice water. “Ms. Rivers?” she whispered to herself. Then, louder, “How have you been? I’m back!”

“So I see,” Roman said, his voice flat. “Has your mother recovered?”

“Yes! She’s doing great. Sophie has arranged a caretaker named Grace, so everything is under control,” Macy said, her voice dropping an octave as she sensed his distance.

“Good,” Roman said, finally looking at her, but only to hand her a thick folder. “Well, you have a significant amount of work pending. I suggest you start immediately.”

As Macy turned to head to her desk, his voice stopped her.

“Ms. Rivers? The machine in here is acting up. Could you please get me an espresso from the pantry machine? The one near the elevators.”

“Yes, Sir,” Macy said, her voice tight.

In the pantry, Macy stood before the industrial coffee machine. It was early, and the break room was deserted. She watched the dark liquid drip into the cup, her irritation simmering.

“Oh, so we’re being ‘Sir’ and ‘Ms. Rivers’ now, are we?” she muttered. “Fine. You want an espresso? I’ll give you a professional experience you’ll never forget.”

She looked around the pantry tray. Her eyes landed on the condiment station. Today, it was stocked with random packets for the office lunch prep.

“Time to bring out my inner barista,” Macy whispered with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She grabbed a salt packet. “Salt is a flavor enhancer,” she reasoned, dumping the entire thing into the cup. Then she saw a small container of chili vinegar. “Acidity! Every gourmet dish needs acidity.” She poured it in, stirring the concoction vigorously. It looked like coffee. It smelled—remarkably—like coffee.

“Roman, I know why you’re angry,” she giggled to herself. “But I know you have feelings for me. This coffee will bring those feelings right to the surface.”

She walked back into the office with a mask of perfect, somber professionalism. She placed the cup on his desk. “Your espresso, Sir.”

She turned to leave, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Ms. Rivers.”

Macy stopped. “Yes, Sir?”

“Please, sit down for a moment,” Roman said, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

Macy sat, a question mark forming in her mind. Roman slowly pushed the steaming cup toward her side of the desk. His expression was a perfect, unreadable slate.

“Drink it,” he said softly. “You look so tired. You’ve had a long two weeks.”

Macy’s heart did a backflip. “Oh! No, no. It’s okay. I’m not tired at all. I don’t want any coffee.”

Roman leaned forward. “Macy, you only rejected my money. Now you are rejecting my coffee also? This coffee is on the office, don’t worry. This is not something private. It’s ‘official,’ just like you wanted.”

Macy stared at the cup. The salt and chili vinegar seemed to swirl mockingly. “I… I have a coffee allergy!” she blurted out, her voice stammering.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “An allergy? Just for the last half hour, I assume?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“Yes, Sir!” Macy squeaked. Then, realizing her mistake, “No, Sir!”

She blinked rapidly, her heart racing as Roman watched her, his gaze intense. He seemed to be waiting for her to take the first sip of her own “perfect” brew.

Chapter 28

The office was so quiet you could hear the soft whir of the server in the corner. Macy stared at the “special” espresso sitting on the mahogany desk, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm. Roman’s gaze was unyielding, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Drink, Macy,” he gestured again, his voice smooth as velvet but firm as steel. “Have it. You said it was the best cup in the building, didn’t you?”

Macy took a deep breath, her bravado finally faltering. She looked him dead in the eye, trying to regain her professional footing. “Sir, I just remembered I have a mountain of filing to do. I really should get to it. Enjoy your… gourmet beverage.”

She stood up abruptly and turned to make a run for the door, but she wasn’t fast enough. Roman was out of his chair in a flash. He reached out and caught her wrist, pulling her back toward him. The momentum sent her stumbling until her back hit the cool, solid wall.

Roman didn’t let go. He stepped into her space, his hands coming up to rest on the wall on either side of her head, effectively pinning her in a cage of expensive cologne and warmth. Macy’s breath hitched. She wasn’t afraid—not even a little. Instead, her eyes danced with the same mischief that had fueled her pantry prank.

Roman leaned in, his face inches from hers. “Do you really think I don’t know what you did in the pantry, Macy?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous in a way that made her toes curl. “Did you forget there is a high-definition camera positioned directly over the condiment tray?”

Macy couldn’t hold it back anymore. A tiny, bubbly giggle escaped her. “You saw?”

“I saw the salt. I saw the chili vinegar. I saw the evil little dance you did after you stirred it,” Roman said, his eyes filled with a naughty light. “Why, Macy? Why do you keep trying to ruin my morning?”

Macy tilted her head, her gaze softening. “Do you know why I pranked you so much in school, Roman? Because it was the only way to get the golden boy’s attention. I’m doing it again for the same reason. You’ve been ‘Ms. Rivers’ and ‘Professional CEO’ for a week. If you don’t give me your attention properly, I’ll have to salt your coffee until you do.”

Roman’s gaze dropped to her lips. The air between them turned electric, the playful energy shifting into something deep and undeniable. “Is that so?” he murmured. “Well, you certainly have my attention now.”

He began to lean in, his eyes fluttering shut as he prepared to bridge the final inch between them. Macy followed suit, her eyes closing, her lips parted and ready for a moment ten years in the making.

RRRRRRING!

The sharp, jarring blast of the intercom made them both jump back as if they’d been struck by lightning. Macy gasped, her heart nearly leaping out of her throat, while Roman let out a frustrated groan that sounded like a wounded bear.

Disappointed and visibly annoyed, Roman stomped back to his desk and stabbed the button on the intercom. “What is it?” he snapped.

Macy watched his face. In an instant, the frustration turned into a cold, hard mask of anger.

“Who?” Roman asked, his voice dropping into a growl. He listened for a moment before answering through gritted teeth. “Fine. Let her in.”

He slammed the phone down. Macy stepped forward, her romantic haze replaced by concern. “What happened? Who is coming up?”

“Christy,” Roman said, his eyes darkening.

Macy felt like she’d been punched in the gut. The romantic atmosphere shattered into a thousand pieces. “But you told security she wasn’t allowed in! How did she get past the lobby?”

“She met my mother yesterday,” Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Mom gave her a personal letter and her card. Security couldn’t turn her away without insulting the Blackwood matriarch.”

Macy bit her lip. “Should I… should I go to my desk outside?”

“No,” Roman said firmly. “Stay here. Sit at your station.”

Before they could say another word, the doors swung open without a knock. Christy sauntered in, looking like a million dollars in a white designer suit, her hair perfectly coiffed. “Hey, Roman! It is so good to see you again,” she chirped, ignoring the tension in the room.

She glanced over at Macy, her lip curling in a sneer. “Oh, it’s you. I forgot your name. Look, you better wait outside. I have something very private and very important to discuss with Roman.”

Macy looked at Roman, expecting him to dismiss her, but he didn’t even look up from his screen. “Macy has an incredibly important project she’s working on, Christy. She isn’t going anywhere until I tell her to.”

Macy hid a smile and sat down, opening a random spreadsheet to look busy. Christy’s face twisted in annoyance, but she quickly smoothed it over as she sat in the chair opposite Roman. “But Roman, this is private.”

“Nothing is private here, Christy,” Roman said, his voice cold. “Our entire office is already talking about your intrusion. If you have something to say, say it quickly. I have a company to run.”

Christy leaned forward, her voice dropping into a fake, sultry tone. “I know how much you still care, Roman. You’re just being possessive because you couldn’t stand seeing me with another guy. It’s okay. I’ve realized we’re meant to be happy together.”

She paused, her eyes landing on the cup of espresso Macy had placed there moments ago. A triumphant smile spread across her face. “Look! You even remembered how much I love espresso. You kept it ready because you knew I was coming. Oh, Roman, you’re so sweet.”

Macy and Roman both stopped what they were doing. They exchanged a lightning-fast look of pure, comedic horror.

“You’re right, Christy,” Roman said, his voice suddenly shifting into a terrifyingly nice tone. “I’m glad you noticed. I brewed this especially for you. I remembered exactly how I used to make it for you in our college days. Full of… intensity.”

Macy buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. A weird, high-pitched wheezing sound escaped her as she tried to stifle her laughter.

Christy turned toward Macy, suspicious. “What was that noise?”

Roman quickly reached across the desk and gently tilted Christy’s chin back toward him. “Don’t mind her, she has a chronic cough. Why don’t you drink the coffee, Christy? I want to see those lovely eyes enjoying my handiwork. Tell me if it tastes like old times.”

“Awe, Roman!” Christy cooed, her vanity completely blinding her. “I’m so glad you’re finally admitting your feelings. I’ll tell your mother tonight—she’ll be thrilled to know her son is finally marrying the right person.”

With an air of triumph, Christy picked up the cup. She didn’t just sip it; she took a large, confident gulp.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Because she had taken such a large mouthful, she accidentally swallowed most of it before her brain could register the salt-and-vinegar assault.

“ARGH! OMG!” Christy shrieked, her face contorting into a mask of pure agony. “What the heck is that?! This isn’t coffee, it’s poison!”

She began fanning her mouth with both hands, her designer heels clicking frantically as she jumped up. Macy, unable to hold it in for even a second longer, literally fell off her office chair, rolling on the carpet as she clutched her stomach, laughing so hard no sound was coming out.

Roman sat back, his face a masterpiece of suppressed hilarity, though he managed to keep his voice somewhat professional. “Is something wrong, Christy? Not enough ‘intensity’ for you?”

Christy’s eyes landed on Macy, who was still gasping for air on the floor. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. She marched over to Macy, her finger pointing accusingly. “How dare you! You did this to me!”

Macy scrambled to her feet, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Actually… that coffee wasn’t even meant for you. But I have to say, it definitely went to the right hands.”

Christy’s face turned a violent shade of red. She raised her hand to slap Macy, her eyes wild with rage.

“That’s enough, Christy!” Roman’s voice boomed through the office, vibrating with a command that stopped her hand mid-air.

Christy spun around, her voice shrill. “You can’t talk to me like that! You have no right to protect this… this employee over me!”

Roman stood up and walked around his desk, his expression stone-cold. He stepped between Macy and Christy, his presence looming over the blonde woman. “I know exactly why you’re here, Christy. I told you once, and I will tell you for the final time: you are not part of my life. You never will be again.”

“Why?” Christy spat. “Are you actually in a relationship?”

Roman looked back at Macy. He caught her eye and gave her a small, almost imperceptible wink. Then, he looked back at Christy. “Yes. I am already seeing someone. And she is worth ten thousand of you.”

Macy felt a warm glow spread through her chest as she gave him a small, supportive smile.

“Who is she?” Christy demanded, her voice trembling with fury.

“That,” Roman said, pointing toward the door, “is none of your business. You can leave now. And if you ever use my mother’s kindness to bypass my security again, I will have you blacklisted from every club in this city.”

Christy let out a frustrated scream, grabbed her designer bag, and stormed out, the door slamming so hard the glass rattled.

The silence that followed lasted exactly three seconds before Roman and Macy erupted into simultaneous fits of laughter.

“I am so sorry,” Roman wheezed, leaning against the wall. “She should never have behaved like that to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Macy gasped, leaning on his desk for support. “Watching her swallow that vinegar was the highlight of my career. I don’t care about delusional people, Roman. That was gold.”

Roman looked at her, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “God, I’m glad I didn’t drink that. But you know what? You still attempted to prank your boss. You need a punishment for that.”

Macy laughed, her eyes bright. “Oh really? And what kind of punishment does the CEO have in mind?”

Roman said,” What do you suggest?”

Macy looked at him, her eyes twinkling, “How about a real coffee date this weekend? No salt, no vinegar.

Roman stepped closer, the humor in his eyes turning into something more tender. —How about a very expensive dinner date where I have your undivided attention.”

Macy grinned, her heart full. “Oh, a dinner date? That is a very big punishment, Mr. Blackwood. I think I can handle it.”

Chapter 29

The cafeteria at Blackwood Industries was a chorus of clinking silverware and low chatter, but the corner table occupied by Macy, Sophie, and Claire was a localized earthquake of laughter. Tears were streaming down Macy’s face as she replayed the scene for her best friends, her hands animatedly mimicking Christy’s dramatic gagging.

“So she literally drank it without thinking?” Claire asked, clutching her stomach. “A whole gulp?”

“Yes! A massive gulp!” Macy wheezed. “I honestly think her brain short-circuited the moment she saw Roman’s face. She didn’t even pause to sniff it.”

Sophie leaned back, wiped her eyes. “Did she at least spit it out? Tell me there was a fountain of salt-espresso.”

“No!” Macy cried, her voice rising in amusement. “That’s the best part! Her brain didn’t work. She was so shocked by the taste that she swallowed it instead. I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head.”

Claire sighed, shaking her head. “If she had any brain at all, she wouldn’t have touched a cup of coffee that had been sitting on his desk for twenty minutes. But honestly, Macy, you haven’t changed. You still have that pranking streak from school.”

Sophie tapped Macy’s cheek affectionately. “I thought you’d grown out of it, butterfly.”

“Don’t blame me!” Macy defended, though her eyes were twinkling. “Roman asked for this. He spent a whole week acting like a robot, calling me ‘Ms. Rivers’ after everything we’ve been through. I just had to remind him who he was dealing with. You have to poke the bear to get a reaction.”

“Well, you definitely got one,” Claire said, leaning in. “So, what was the fallout? Is he firing you or finally kissing you?”

“Neither,” Macy said, her cheeks flushing. “We’re going on a dinner date this weekend.”

“WHAT?” Claire and Sophie shouted in unison. Several people at nearby tables turned to stare, but they didn’t care.

“You should have led with that!” Sophie exclaimed. “A real date? Not a work meeting or a hospital visit?”

“A real dinner date,” Macy confirmed.

Claire immediately shifted into mission mode. “OMG, we need to find you a dress. This is the Blackwood heir we’re talking about. He’ll probably take you somewhere where the napkins cost more than my rent. Shopping trip tonight?”

“No shopping,” Macy said firmly, cutting her off. “I’m on a strict ten-dollar-a-month budget, remember? And I’m still paying back my debt to you guys. No shopping for at least two months. We’re going to find something in my closet.”

“But Macy—” Sophie started.

“No ’buts,’” Macy insisted. “I want to repay you both first. I’m going to make whatever I have work. Roman isn’t going to care what I’m wearing anyway.”

Sophie’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Oh, he might care quite a lot if you don’t wear anything at all,” she teased.

Claire burst out laughing, and Macy felt her entire face turn a violent shade of red. “Sophie! Stop it!”

“At least I’m glad you’ve finally taken a tiny step in your relationship,” Sophie said, her tone softening with genuine happiness.

Before Macy could retort, her phone buzzed on the table. She looked at the screen and immediately straightened up. “It’s Roman. He’s calling all of us to the conference room.”

“Did he hear what we just said?” Sophie asked, suddenly looking around at the ceiling. “Is there a camera on this table like the one over the condiment tray?”

“Let’s hope not,” Claire muttered as they quickly gathered their things and headed for the elevators.

Inside the high-tech conference room, the playful energy evaporated. Owen Brooks, the manager Macy had met previously, was already there, leaning over a digital blueprint with Roman. Roman looked up as the three women entered, his face back in “Chief Executive” mode, but he gave Macy a look that was just a fraction warmer than usual.

“Please, sit,” Roman said, gesturing to the sleek leather chairs.

Once everyone was settled, he lowered the lights, and a holographic projection of a complex mechanical device appeared above the table.

“We are officially tying up with the government on a high-security defense project,” Roman began, his voice grave. “They’ve requested a specialized hardware-software integration for a new defense system. This is a special request, and it’s incredibly sensitive.”

Macy felt a thrill of excitement. This wasn’t just filing papers; this was real, high-stakes work.

“Owen will be leading the project,” Roman continued. “I want you three involved. Claire and Macy, you will assist Owen on a report basis. Sophie, you’ll be handling the financial estimations and budget tracking. Owen, you’ll need to select two developers for the backend coding. Macy and Claire will handle their background checks. The developers are to be kept in the dark about the true nature of the project—they’re just building components. I’ll be the one to finalize the integration.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over them. “For the hardware side, I’ve appointed two specialists. Sebastian Thorne from the Government’s defense wing and Julian Reid from the Government R&D team. They’re old friends of mine, and they have their own team that you’ll be coordinating with. I am personally overseeing this because it’s our first defense contract. And,” he added with a small, knowing smile directed at Macy, “every one of you will receive a significant special incentive for this project.”

“When do we start?” Macy asked, already feeling her brain switch into gear.

“Tomorrow morning,” Roman replied.

“What’s the timeline?” Claire added. “How long do we have for a project this size?”

“Six months for the first prototype,” Roman said.

Sophie raised her hand tentatively. “Roman, this looks super important. Why are you picking me for the finance side? We have an entire department of senior accountants with twenty years of experience.”

Roman’s expression turned solemn. “Good question, Sophie. This project is highly confidential. No one can know we are working on this until the government makes a public announcement. I chose you three because I know you personally. I trust you. Information is the most valuable currency in this business, and I know it won’t leak from this room. Beyond that, you’ve all proven your potential several times over.”

As the meeting adjourned and the lights came back up, the group filed out into the hallway. Macy walked beside Owen, her curiosity piqued.

“So, Owen,” she asked, “how do you know Roman? You guys seemed pretty comfortable in there.”

Owen laughed, adjust his glasses. “I’m a close friend of Julian Reid. Julian and I worked together at R&D department earlier. We’ve all hung out with Roman more times than I can count—usually at Julian’s place. Roman’s a different guy when he’s not wearing the suit.”

Macy smiled, thinking about the Roman she knew—the one who hid cameras over condiments and promised dinner dates as “punishment.” As they headed back to their desks to prepare for the six-month grind ahead, she felt a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The weight of her mother’s medical debt was still there, but for the first time, the path forward didn’t look like a burden. It looked like an adventure.

Chapter 30

The Saturday evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine through the open window of the apartment. Inside, the atmosphere was a whirlwind of feminine energy. Macy stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing out the fabric of a simple, forest-green wrap dress. It wasn’t new, and it certainly hadn’t cost a fortune, but the way it hugged her curves and deepened the color of her eyes made her look far more expensive than her ten-dollar budget suggested.

Sophie and Claire stood behind her, while Beatrice sat on the edge of the bed, all three of them watching Macy with a sense of pure awe.

“Wow,” Beatrice whispered, her voice thick with motherly pride. She stood up and walked over, pulling Macy into a gentle hug. “My daughter looks like an absolute angel. There is a light in you tonight, Macy. A real glow.”

“She’s right,” Sophie added, leaning against the doorframe. “You have that ‘I’m-about-to-be-adored-by-a-billionaire’ shimmer going on. It’s very becoming.”

Macy turned back to the mirror, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted a simple gold necklace. “I am so nervous, guys. My stomach feels like it’s full of hyperactive hummingbirds.”

Claire stepped forward, adjusting Macy’s collar. “Don’t worry, you’ll be alright. Just be yourself. Actually,” Claire paused, giving her a pointed look, “be yourself except for the pranking part, okay? No salt, no vinegar, and definitely no chemicals. Just romance.”

Macy nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “I promise. No pantry raids tonight.”

Suddenly, Macy’s phone chimed with a text. Her heart skipped a beat. “He’s here. Roman is waiting outside.” She turned to her friends, her eyes wide. “Are you both coming down with me? Just to the lobby? I need moral support.”

Sophie laughed, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. We refuse to be the third and fourth wheels on your big night. You’re a big girl, Macy.”

“But I’m nervous!” Macy protested. “You’re my best friends; you’re supposed to walk me to the ‘gallows’ of love!”

Claire gave her a playful shove toward the door. “Thanks for remembering us, but maybe you should have consulted us before making that vinegar espresso. You’ve got this. Now, leave!”

Macy pouted with fake disappointment. “Fine. I’m leaving. What are your plans while I’m out being a nervous wreck?”

“We’re taking your mom down to the lawn,” Sophie said, offering Beatrice her arm. “She said she wants some fresh air and to see the sunset. Now stop wasting time and go meet your Prince Charming.”

Macy hugged them all one last time—a lingering squeeze for her mother—and headed down the elevator.

When the lobby doors opened, Macy saw him. Roman was leaning against his car, looking devastatingly handsome in a casual button-down shirt and dark trousers. The “CEO” persona was gone, replaced by a charming, relaxed warmth that made Macy’s knees feel like jelly.

He straightened up as she approached, his eyes widening as they swept over her. He stepped forward, holding a bouquet of delicate white lilies. “You look… you look absolutely beautiful, Macy.”

They stood there for a long moment, simply staring at each other, the rest of the world fading into a blur. The silence was perfect until a loud psst came from behind a massive ornamental grass pot near the entrance.

“Oh, stop staring and leave, both of you!” a familiar voice hissed.

They both spun around to see Sophie and Claire peeking out from behind the greenery, having followed Macy down in secret.

Roman let out an awkward, boyish laugh, waving at the “spies” as he opened the car door for Macy. “I think we’ve been spotted,” he whispered.

“They’re impossible,” Macy laughed, sliding into the leather seat.

As they drove away from the apartment, a heavy silence settled in the car. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the weight of expectation was high. To break the ice, Roman asked, “So, are you feeling comfortable with the new government project? It’s a lot to take on right after your return.”

That was all the opening Macy’s talkative nature needed. “Oh, it’s fascinating! Truly. The hardware-software link is such a challenge, and Owen is brilliant, though he’s a bit of a perfectionist. Did you know he once spent three hours arguing about a single line of code?”

She kept going, her nerves fueling a stream of consciousness that moved from the project to office politics, and eventually to a story about a party Owen had arranged at a five-star hotel. She was mid-sentence when she realized Roman hadn’t said a word.

“Why are you so silent?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Roman glanced at her, a beautiful, lopsided smile on his face. “Well, that’s because you didn’t leave a gap for me to speak. I was enjoying the show.”

Macy flushed. “Oh. I became a little talkative, didn’t I?”

“Just a little,” Roman teased.

“Okay, I’m not opening my mouth for the rest of the drive,” Macy declared, folding her arms. “You speak.”

Roman didn’t say anything. Instead, he slowed the car and pulled into a grand, circular driveway. “I’d love to speak, but we’ve arrived.”

Macy looked out the window and her jaw dropped. The hotel was a masterpiece of modern architecture and glass, glowing like a jewel under the evening sky. “Roman… this looks huge. We could have gone somewhere less expensive.”

Roman stepped out and opened her door, taking her hand in his. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry. This hotel is a Blackwood asset. It’s practically our living room. Plus, I wanted us to have some real privacy.”

He led her inside, past the bustling lobby and into a magnificent private dining suite. The room was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A small team of waitstaff stood ready, but after the first course was served, Roman dismissed them with a polite nod.

“You can be yourself here, Macy,” Roman said, his voice softening as the doors closed, leaving them truly alone. “Nobody is going to disturb us tonight.”

The conversation flowed easily then. They bypassed work and dove into the past. They talked about their families, their college years, and eventually, the conversation drifted back to their high school days—specifically, the infamous “Barbie Bag” incident.

“Do you have any idea how upset I was?” Macy laughed, swirling her wine. “That was a limited-edition bag, Roman. And you poured a chemical solution right onto the glitter!”

Roman chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Honestly, Macy, you were the odd one out. Who carries a Barbie bag to a high school science lab? You were obsessed.”

“I was!” Macy admitted. “I collected everything Barbie until college. After my dad passed and the money vanished, I had to stop. My bedroom used to be entirely Barbie-themed. It was my happy place.”

“Are you still obsessed?” Roman asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Not really,” Macy said, her voice turning a bit more reflective. “I grew out of it. I don’t have any of those things left… except for that bag. I kept it because every time I looked at the chemical stain, I thought about you.”

Roman’s gaze intensified, his eyes locked on hers with an expression of pure tenderness. “You thought of me?”

“Always,” she whispered.

After dinner, Roman drove her up into the hills, to a secluded lookout point where the city lights looked like a carpet of fallen stars. They stepped out of the car and walked to the edge, their hands naturally finding each other.

“Macy,” Roman said, turning her to face him. The city wind tossed his hair, making him look younger, more vulnerable. “I can’t pretend this is just about ‘attention’ or ‘official business’ anymore. I’ve admired you since we were kids. Even when you were annoying me with your pranks, I liked you because you were so unapologetically you. You were the only person who didn’t care about my last name.”

Macy looked up at him, her heart thumping. “I felt so comfortable with you, Roman. I used to prank you just to see if you’d fight with me, just to get you to talk to me. I thought you hated me.”

“Never,” Roman said. He took a deep breath. “Macy, I want a real relationship. No contracts, no ten-dollar salaries, no secrets. Will you be my girlfriend?”

Macy’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. “Yes, Roman. I will.”

He leaned in, his hand cupping her cheek. “At least this time,” he whispered against her lips, “there are no intercoms and no mothers to disturb us.”

The kiss was everything the first one should have been—soft, gentle, and full of a decade’s worth of unspoken longing. When they finally pulled apart, they stayed in each other’s arms for hours, talking and watching the stars, feeling a sense of peace that neither had known in a long time.

When Roman finally dropped her off at her apartment, the moon was high. He kissed her again by the car, a slow, lingering goodbye. “See you in the office next week… sweetheart.”

Macy giggled at the endearment. “Is it okay if we maintain a low profile at work? I don’t want the gossip mill to distract from the defence project.”

Roman shrugged, his smile bright. “I wouldn’t mind announcing it over the PA system, but if that’s what you want, we’ll keep it our little secret for now.” One final kiss, and Macy floated up to her apartment. As Roman drove home, he felt a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt since he was a boy. For the first time in years, he wasn’t just a Blackwood heir or a CEO. He was just a man in love.