The gates groaned shut behind Roman’s order

The scream that echoed from inside the mansion was sharp, cutting through the heavy rumble of the thunder.

It didn't sound like a maid or a guard. It sounded like someone who had just watched their entire world collapse in real-time.

Roman didn't even flinch. His eyes remained locked on his mother, Vivienne, whose carefully manicured facade was completely crumbling before us.

"You hid it for five years," Roman said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that carried over the howling wind. "You knew my father left everything to my firstborn daughter. You knew the empire wasn't mine to inherit, but hers."

He pointed a finger toward my swollen stomach, where our little girl was shifting restlessly under my wet, shivering hands.

Vivienne took a step back, her expensive silk heels splashing into a puddle of muddy water. "Roman, listen to me! Your father was dying. He wasn't in his right mind when he wrote that clause! A girl? Leading the Kane family? It would invite our enemies to tear us apart at the seams!"

"So you decided to tear my family apart instead," Roman replied, stepping closer to her.

The guards around the courtyard stood completely frozen. Nobody dared to breathe. They knew the rules of the house, but they also knew who paid their salaries now.

Roman turned his back on his mother, completely dismissing her presence as if she were already a ghost. He looked down at me, his hard features instantly softening.

"Marcus," Roman called out, not looking away from my face.

His most trusted lieutenant stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Boss?"

"Get the car heated. Call the private medical team at the penthouse. We are leaving this place, and it will burn behind us before I ever let my wife step foot here again."

Roman didn't wait for Marcus to answer. He scooped me up into his arms, lifting my heavy, eight-month pregnant body as if I weighed nothing at all.

His wet wool coat was wrapped tightly around me, smelling of rain, expensive tobacco, and the familiar, comforting scent of cedarwood that always meant safety to me.

As he carried me toward the idling black sedan, I looked over his shoulder.

Vivienne was standing under the grand portico, looking suddenly very old and very small. The family lawyer was already walking away from her, clutching the sealed file to his chest like a shield.

"Roman!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with desperation. "You can't leave! The capos are arriving at midnight! If you aren't here to sign the consolidation papers, the family splits!"

Roman stopped just at the door of the sedan. He didn't turn around, but his jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle ticking.

"Let it split," he said coldly. "And whoever chooses your side will share your grave."

He placed me gently into the back seat of the warm vehicle. The heat was already blasting, wrapping around my freezing, trembling limbs like a heavy blanket.

As Roman slid in next to me, closing the door and shutting out the sound of the torrential storm, he immediately took my frozen feet into his hands, rubbing them to bring the circulation back.

I looked at him, my vision blurring with tears. I reached up, my hand trembling as I touched my own head. The jagged, uneven bristles of my ruined hair felt foreign and horrifying under my fingertips.

"Roman... my hair," I choked out, a sob finally breaking through my chest. "They held me down. Your mother's women... they held me down and they—"

"Shh," Roman murmured, pulling me against his chest. He pressed a warm kiss onto the top of my shorn head, his hands gripping my waist with a fierce, possessive intensity. "I know, Bianca. I know. I am going to make every single person who stood in that room bleed for what they did to you."