CHAPTER 98: A BABY

Both turning toward the voice, Eve let out a scoff, her eyes rolling sharply the moment she recognized who it was.

"I don’t have to listen to anyone. I am past that stage now," she said, exhaling deeply as she turned away.

"It was nice talking to you, Patricia, but this is my fight. Don’t get involved." With that, she started walking off the balcony. When she reached Roman, he caught her wrist and asked, "Are you sure you won’t regret this?" His tone carried a flicker of hope, though he knew it was far-fetched. Would she ever admit anything to him with all the hatred she held?

Scoffing again, she forced a mocking smile and tilted her head to meet his gaze. "The only thing I have ever regretted was being your sister. If you really want to help me, then do me a favor, make sure we are not siblings. Can you make that happen?" She spat, glaring at him with pure venom.

Patricia raised her brows, bewildered by the venomous exchange. If Eve already knew Roman didn’t cause the fire, why was she determined to act as though she despised him? Was she lying to Patricia, or did she truly hate her brother? The tone Eve used made it impossible to tell.

"You know I have grown used to every insult you throw at me," Roman said, unshaken by her cruelty. "But this isn’t about me, Eve. This is about you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t choose Syres, but Paul is not the option. Pick anyone else, and I won’t stand in your way." His words carried genuine concern, not anger.

"Why do you care? You suddenly want to play the good brother after all these years? Whatever happened to minding each other’s business?" She snapped, her scoff louder this time.

"I only said that to make you happy," he replied firmly. "But I regret ever making such a promise." He paused, and for the briefest moment, something flickered in Eve’s eyes...thoughtfulness, hesitation, before he added, "I am sorry about what happened to Mother. But she’s gone now, Eve. Hate me if you must, just don’t do this to yourself."

"Let go of me, Mr. Roman. People will start to misunderstand if they see us this way." She yanked her hand from his grip.

Throwing Patricia a sharp glance, she sneered, "Be careful, or he will kill the one you love most too." She forced a smile and walked away.

Patricia, meanwhile, felt as though Eve was trying to send her a hidden message, though she couldn’t decipher it. Why was Eve so complicated? How could she hurl such cruel words without flinching? Then again, Roman had been the same way when she first met him. They truly were siblings.

Approaching Roman, she tried to comfort him. "She doesn’t mean all that. We don’t need her permission to act, and in time she will come to appreciate you." But Roman’s expression remained unreadable, as though he had already made up his mind.

"Eve doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean. I will drop the case, there’s nothing else I can do," Roman said, catching Patricia off guard. Just like that?

"Why would you let that discourage you?" She pressed, frowning in disbelief.

"I wouldn’t call it discouragement. I think I need to step back and let her see things for herself. If, after that, she still decides to marry him, then I won’t interfere anymore." His admission eased Patricia’s frown slightly. It sounded like a reasonable plan, but after what she had just witnessed, she doubted Eve would ever change her mind.

"Can you really stand by and give your sister to him?" She asked carefully.

"We are Blackthorns, we survive anywhere. She will too. The real question is whether he will," Roman replied curtly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Patricia fell silent, struck by the contrast. Brother and sister were indeed the same, strange, unpredictable, and difficult to understand.

One moment he feared his sister marrying a predator, the next he was more concerned with whether the predator could survive his sister. Maybe she was worrying for nothing. Eve might not always be wise, but she carried the air of someone who had been through hell and lived to tell it. Perhaps she would be fine... or perhaps not.

"I will have my men stationed near their home, if things go as expected," he added, noticing Patricia’s lingering unease. Then he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Her eyes widened as she muttered, "What are you doing?" Darting a glance behind them to check if anyone was approaching.

With a mischievous smirk, he leaned down to whisper, "Why does this place remind me so much of that night? The wind, the open space..." He stopped, pulling back just enough to study her face, clearly satisfied by the blush rising on her cheeks.

"We are outside. We can’t do this here," she murmured nervously, lowering her head.

"Do what? Hold on, what exactly is my wife talking about?" He teased, tilting his head in mock innocence. The playful tone made her smack his chest lightly, glaring at him for making fun of her.

"I meant nothing, Mr. Roman. We should head back before they start looking for us," she said, stepping away. But before she could escape, he caught her again, steering her until her back met the balcony railing, trapping her there.

It happened so suddenly that she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"Don’t startle me like that," she scolded, pouting her lips, a gesture that only seemed to tempt him further.

"I want to do so many wicked things to you," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate, "but I don’t want to rush. I want to take my time, so slowly that the only touch you will ever feel, regardless of the person, is mine." As he leaned closer, his warm breath brushed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Their eyes locked instinctively, and a charged silence fell between them. It was as though they had been restraining themselves for too long, and the dam was beginning to crack. Patricia’s thoughts blurred, her mind consumed by his face, his touch, his presence. Every part of her longed for him, and nothing else seemed to matter.

Raising his hand, he gently cupped her face, and she gasped, leaning into his palm as his warmth spread across her skin.

"Patricia, I don’t ever want to lose you. If you ever think of leaving me, I am sorry, but I won’t let you," he said softly, the promise in his voice making her swallow hard. His confession caught her off guard. Was she even planning to leave him anymore?

Then he tilted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, almost reverent, like he feared she might vanish if he didn’t savor every second of it.

"Should we have a baby?" He asked suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at her.

Patricia’s eyes flew open, disbelief written across her face. This was the same man who only months ago had sworn he would marry the woman he loved, yet here he was now, asking her to have his child? The irony stung. She was actually being asked to have a baby with him?

"Are you serious?" She whispered, her gaze darting between his eyes, searching for an explanation.

"I am getting old, and I want my children to experience the younger me," he replied without hesitation. Patricia’s breath caught. Did she want that? Roman’s baby? What if her deepest fears came true once she gave birth for him?

What if she regretted it? The thought of her children growing up with a man just like her father terrified her. Worse still, what if she turned out like her mother, cowardly, helpless in her marriage, unable to act even when a mistress was brought into the home? The idea made her doubt herself. If Roman ever betrayed her, would she have the courage to stand up for herself? Or would she become just as broken and silent?

But then again, there was always divorce. Her mother had stayed when she could have left. Patricia told herself she wouldn’t make the same mistake. If it ever came to that, she would walk away.

"Hey," Roman interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "It’s fine if you don’t want to. I don’t mind growing old with just you. Or, we could have someone bring in a child if you don’t want to go through the stress." His tone softened as he placed his hands on her shoulders, steadying her and making her face him.

"A mistress?" She blurted, her heart cracking at the thought. Who else could bring in a child for them?

"No, what are you saying? I meant adoption." His brows furrowed, his voice tight with concern. "Are you still afraid I will cheat on you?" He searched her eyes, troubled that her trust hadn’t come easily. But then again, given their past, would it not be strange if she trusted him so soon?