Chapter 9 - THE CONFRONTATION IN THE STUDY
Roman stood in silence as Evelyn turned and walked back down the hallway toward the grand staircase.
He followed her down the stairs, his eyes sweeping over the polished marble, the glowing hearth, and the warm, vibrant life that filled every corner of the house he had thought dead.
They entered the adjoining study—a cozy, wood-paneled room off the main entrance hall, filled with leather armchairs, a roaring corner stove, and floor-to-ceiling maps of western New York.
Evelyn walked behind her mahogany desk, resting her hands flat against the polished surface.
"Now that you know what happened here, Roman," Evelyn said quietly, "you haven't answered my first question."
"Which question?"
"Why did you come back?" Evelyn asked, her eyes searching his face. "You haven't set foot in this county in three years. You didn't come back to check on my health—you were surprised to find me breathing. You didn't come back to inspect the estate—you thought it was a ruin. Why are you here, Roman?"
Roman stood in the center of the study, his broad frame framed by the warm glow of the corner stove.
He pulled a thick, sealed manila envelope from his jacket pocket and set it down on the desk between them.
Evelyn looked down at the envelope, then back up at his face. "What is this?"
"Divorce papers," Roman said flatly.
The word hung in the quiet study like a heavy iron weight.
Evelyn didn't gasp. She didn't flinch. She simply looked at the envelope, her face remaining entirely composed.
"I see," Evelyn said softly. "You brought them yourself?"
"My legal team drafted them six weeks ago," Roman explained, his voice low and flat. "The syndicate is restructuring its holding companies in Chicago. My lawyers needed my marital status legally dissolved to clear the transfer of the southern transit assets. I was driving through to Canada to meet with the syndicate board, and I intended to drop these off with your local attorney."
He paused, looking at her—taking in her glowing skin, her sharp blue eyes, her elegant posture, and the incredible fortress she had built out of his ruin.
"I expected to find a bedridden woman in a dying house," Roman admitted, his voice rough with honesty. "I expected to sign the papers, leave you the allowance, and walk away."
Evelyn reached out, her slender fingers touching the edge of the manila envelope.
"And now?" Evelyn asked softly, her eyes meeting his.
May you like
Roman didn't answer immediately. He looked around the study—at the heat, the life, the laughter of the children drifting from the sitting room, and the extraordinary woman standing before him.
He reached out, placed his large, heavy hand over hers, and slowly slid the manila envelope back across the desk toward his side.
