Chapter 3 - The Safe House
The deafening blast shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows, sending a lethal shower of glass out into the city night.
Thick, acrid smoke instantly filled the ruined office, choking the air out of Harper's lungs.
Roman’s heavy body shielded her completely from the flying debris, his expensive suit now covered in white plaster dust.
He groaned slightly as he pushed himself up, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet.
"We have to move before the fire suppression system activates and traps us in here," Roman yelled over the blaring fire alarms.
He dragged her out of the burning office and sprinted toward the emergency stairwell.
They descended fourteen flights of concrete stairs in a frantic rush, bursting out into the chaotic alleyway.
The two massive guards were already waiting by the idling town car, weapons drawn and eyes scanning the rooftops.
"Get her inside!" Roman barked, shoving Harper into the back seat.
The town car sped away from the burning building just as the first police sirens began wailing in the distance.
Harper collapsed against the leather seat, coughing violently as she tried to process the sheer destruction.
Derek had actually tried to murder her by planting a bomb in her office.
Roman sat beside her, checking his phone with a terrifyingly calm demeanor.
"He knows you are with me now," Roman stated plainly, looking at the glowing screen.
"How could he possibly know that?" Harper asked, wiping soot from her forehead.
Roman turned the phone so she could see the incoming text message from an unknown number.
The message read: "Keep the girl, Falco. I have the money, and she has the murder charge."
Harper stared at the screen, her blood running completely cold.
"What murder charge?" she whispered in absolute horror.
Roman did not answer her immediately.
He poured another glass of scotch and downed it in one smooth, practiced motion.
"The police are currently finding a body inside the trunk of your personal car parked at the restaurant," Roman finally revealed.
Harper felt the entire world tilt violently on its axis.
Derek had planted a corpse in her car while they were eating dinner, framing her for a murder she didn't commit.
The town car pulled up to a heavily fortified, unmarked concrete building on the industrial edge of the city.
The massive steel garage doors rolled open, swallowing the vehicle into the brightly lit subterranean bunker.
Roman helped Harper out of the car, leading her through a maze of security checkpoints and reinforced doors.
They entered a luxurious, modern apartment hidden deep underground, completely isolated from the outside world.
Roman directed her to a plush velvet sofa and handed her a clean towel.
"You are officially a fugitive, Harper," Roman said softly, sitting in the armchair opposite her.
"I cannot go to the police," she cried, burying her face in her trembling hands.
"If I turn myself in, I will spend the rest of my life in prison for Derek's crimes."
Roman leaned forward, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute, deadly focus.
"You are not going to prison," Roman promised, his voice echoing like a vow.
"You are going to help me hunt Derek down, recover the stolen money, and clear your name."
Harper looked up at him, entirely overwhelmed by the impossible situation.
"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked, desperately seeking a logical reason for his protection.
Roman stared at her for a long, heavy moment before finally telling her the truth.
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"Because the millions of dollars Derek stole from that shell company didn't belong to a corporation," Roman confessed smoothly.
"The money belonged to my syndicate, and nobody steals from the Falco family and lives to tell the tale."
