His Father Bought Me

Estelle’s mind raced as she moved further into the room, the soft hum of the air conditioner brushing against her skin.

How much of their conversation had he heard? Had he seen Magnus at her door? Did he already know about the surgery? About the secret she was meant to keep?

Roman’s gaze didn’t leave her. There was something in his eyes now. Something sharper, searching, and a quiet ache settled in her chest. Slowly, he dropped his phone onto the bed and rose to his feet.

"Where were you?" he asked, his voice low, almost too calm.

Estelle’s heart thudded hard against her ribs. "I was—"

"Don’t even think about lying to me." His words cut in smoothly, but the edge beneath them was unmistakable. "I know you weren’t in the house."

She swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against the armrest. Think. "I don’t owe you an explanation, Roman," she said, forcing steadiness into her tone. "I’m free to do whatever I want as long as the cameras aren’t rolling."

Roman nodded once, slow and deliberate. "The rules don’t take effect until tomorrow," he replied, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "So tell me where you were."

He paused briefly. "Besides, I find it strange that you and my father were both gone at the same time. Where did you go with him?"

The question landed heavily between them.

Estelle’s throat tightened, but she held his gaze. She couldn’t afford to lose this chance. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," she said, though her voice wavered ever so slightly.

Roman’s restraint snapped. "Of course you do!" His voice rose, sharp enough to make her flinch. "Did you go somewhere with him? Are you betraying me too? Answer me, Estelle!"

For a second, the room felt too small, the air too thin.

Then Estelle straightened, her jaw setting as something steely settled in her chest. "You do not get to yell at me like that," she said, her voice calm, but the heat in it unmistakable. "Now, leave my room."

Roman stared at her, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. Something flickered across his face: anger, frustration, and something else he couldn’t quite mask. Then he moved.

Estelle’s pulse spiked as he approached. "What are you—?" she started, but the words died when he walked past her instead.

The soft click of the door closing echoed behind her.

She turned, confusion knitting her brows. "What are you doing, Roman?"

"I’m sorry," he said quietly, his back still to the door. The tension in his shoulders eased just a fraction. "I didn’t mean to yell."

He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling. "It’s just that when I didn’t see you, I—" He shook his head, voice faltering. "I was losing my mind. You weren’t in the house. You weren’t answering your calls, even after everything I sent you."

Estelle watched him, the sharp edges of her anger softening despite herself. Guilt curled low in her stomach, slow and unwelcome. Before she could speak, before she could decide what to say, he crossed the distance between them. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

And then he was there.

Roman stepped into her space and folded into her, his weight sinking against her as if something inside him had finally given way. His arms wrapped around her, holding on, not tightly, but enough to say he needed this.

A small gasp slipped past Estelle’s lips, her body going still for a heartbeat as she stared down at him, her hands hovering uncertainly.

"I’m tired, Estelle. Of fighting everything. Of not knowing who to trust," Roman said, his voice unsteady as he held onto her.

Then he exhaled sharply. "And I was losing my mind without you." His arms tightened slightly, like he needed to be sure she was real. "I don’t want anything to happen to you."

Estelle’s brows drew together, the weight of her secret pressing hard against her chest. For a moment, her hands hovered awkwardly in the air before she slowly wrapped them around him, careful, tentative.

"But I’m here," she said softly, her voice steadier than she felt.

"That’s what she said before—" Roman cut himself off. The words faded into the quiet between them.

And he didn’t let go. Instead, he buried his face against her neck, his breath warm against her skin as he inhaled slowly, as if grounding himself. His knees pressed into the floor, his hold on her turning almost desperate, as if he loosened his grip, everything would fall apart.

Estelle’s body softened despite herself. She leaned into him just slightly, her fingers curling against his back. For a fleeting second, she wished she could promise him she wouldn’t leave, that nothing would ever pull her away.

But the thought tightened something in her chest.

At the same time, his scent drifted up to her, familiar, unsettling, and she tilted her head back a fraction, steadying herself, resisting the pull.

Still, he didn’t move. He stayed there, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing left in his world. Then, slowly, he pulled back, though he remained on his knees before her. One hand dragged through his hair as he exhaled, his thoughts clearly tangled.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice quieter now. "I didn’t mean to invade your space like this, I just." He trailed off, his gaze dropping, lingering on her lips before flicking back to her eyes. "I just don’t want to lose you. Like I lost her."

The confession settled between them, heavy and raw.

Estelle’s chest rose and fell unevenly. "Roman—"

He lifted a finger, gently pressing it to her lips, silencing her. His breath brushed her lips, close enough to matter. And still, she didn’t move.

But in that moment, she was grateful. Because if he hadn’t stopped her, she might have said too much, she might have let everything slip.

Her hand rose almost instinctively, brushing against his, the contact sending a faint, electric ripple through her skin. Their eyes locked, and the air between them shifted, making it harder to breathe.

Estelle felt something fragile shift inside her. Roman’s gaze moved again, her lips, her eyes, back to her lips like he couldn’t decide where to rest it.

She should have pushed him away because if she let this happen, leaving would destroy him. She should have said something, done something, anything to create distance. But she didn’t, couldn’t.

Roman leaned in slightly, his finger slipping away from her lips, his voice low, almost conflicted. "I shouldn’t want you..." he admitted, the words rough at the edges. "But I do."

The confession sank deeper than she expected, stirring something she wasn’t ready to face. She could feel it, faint, fragile, but there. And as he watched her, he saw it too, the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the way she didn’t pull away.

Something about her pulled him in, stronger than reason. He tried to resist it, to hold himself back, but it was like his body had already made the choice for him, closing the distance inch by inch, drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite explain.