Too Late for Your Love

I just grabbed dinner with my ex. How long are you going to keep throwing a tantrum? Roman, the city's most notorious playboy, cornered me. He dragged a hand through his hair.

A recent car crash had left him with a severe head injury. His memory was entirely stuck three years in the past.

I stared dead at him, my nails digging into my palms. I turned around and scooped the little girl hiding behind the door tight against my chest. I looked straight into his instantly frozen eyes and dropped the words one by one.

"Roman, we broke up three years ago. This is my daughter with my husband."

Chapter 1

After tucking Daisy in, I leaned against the headboard, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. A news notification popped up on the screen.

[BREAKING: At 9:00 PM on February 17th, Roman, CEO of Zenith Corporation, was involved in a major car crash in Los Angeles and rushed to the ER. Sources confirm he sustained severe head trauma and is currently comatose. Stay tuned to City News for further updates]

The attached photo showed a crumpled Bugatti Veyron. Roman lay strapped to a stretcher, his face a mask of dark blood, his eyes shut tight. Even unconscious, a harsh line cut between his brows.

The pale blue light from the screen burned my eyes. Three years. I dropped my gaze and tossed the phone onto the mattress, ready to sleep.

Then, a violent pounding hit the front door.

I shoved my feet into my slippers and hurried to the living room, terrified the noise would wake Daisy. But when I pressed my eye to the peephole, I froze.

Roman stood in the hallway. Thick gauze wrapped his head, dark red seeping through the white fabric. He looked utterly impatient.

"Sloane, open the door! I know you're in there. I already checked with the doorman!"

My pulse hammered in my throat. My brain short-circuited as I turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

"Didn't you just get into a car wreck? How are you"

Roman didn't even wait for an invitation. He shoved his way through the door, bringing in a blast of freezing night air. He peeled off his Armani coatheavy with the sharp scent of his cologneand threw it directly at my face.

"Is the heat broken in this dump of an apartment? I gave you a Beverly Hills-level mansion, and you insist on rotting in this ghetto?"

The sheer, suffocating arrogance knocked the breath out of me. My vocal cords seized.

When we tore each other apart three years ago, Roman's face was a storm of pure, lethal rage. The way he stared at me back then made me genuinely believe he was going to kill me. He had pointed a finger at me.

"Sloane, you and your new boy toy better stay the hell out of my sight. Or I won't guarantee he keeps breathing."

Now, acting like nothing had happened, he dropped his weight onto my sofa. He patted his thigh and lifted his eyes, entirely unbothered. "Come here."

The dim living room light hit him in sharp angles. Those eyes were exactly the samenarrowed, cold, and entirely predatory. But with a jawline that brutally perfect, his cruelty just translated into raw, arrogant power.

I took a hard step back, a sharp crease forming between my brows. "What are you doing here? We're done."

Roman let out a dry scoff. "Oh, please. Like I don't know you?"

"You've been hiding in here crying your eyes out for days, haven't you? Enough."

He waved a hand, irritated. "I just took Celeste to the ER. Are you seriously going to be this petty about it?"

When I didn't move an inch, Roman let out a rough breath. He shoved himself off the sofa, closed the distance, and yanked me by the wrist. His heavy hand flattened against my stomach. His voice dropped low, carrying a sick imitation of gentleness.

"I know. The pregnancy is messing with your head, right?"

"If you're that desperate for this kid, fine. Keep it."

"I've already picked out names. If it's a boy, he's Julian. If it's a girl"

A bucket of ice water slammed into my spine.

The Roman standing right in front of me was talking about an argument from exactly three years ago.

Chapter 2

I gripped his wrist, the words scraping against my tight throat. "Roman, did you lose your memory?"

He paused, then brushed it off with a careless shrug. "They keep saying the crash messed with my head and gave me amnesia."

"Total bullshit. My head is a little foggy right now, but it doesn't matter."

"None of it is important. You can fill me in later."

He wrapped his arms around me. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening into something sickeningly devoted, acting exactly like the last three years of dead space between us didn't exist.

I shoved him back. I fought to keep my voice completely flat. "Roman, we broke up. I"

He cut me off. The warmth vanished from his face, leaving behind a cold, hard mask. "Sloane, drop the act."

"You think I'd buy that?" A vicious, arrogant smirk twisted his lips. "You've been attached to me for years."

"If you were going to leave, you would have done it a long time ago. You can't survive without me."

A click echoed from the hallway. The bedroom doorknob turned.

I slammed my hands against his chest, shoving him back.

Daisy stepped out, rubbing her sleepy eyes. One tiny fist dragged her favorite plush rabbit across the floor.

"Mommy." She crinkled her little nose and stared up at Roman. "Who is he?"

Roman and I didn't have a clean break.

I was the kid his parents took in. They called me their ward, but in reality, I was just a living, breathing toy they bought to keep their son entertained.

From the very first day I stepped into that massive estate, the staff drilled one rule into my head: I had to yield to Roman.

I had to take care of Roman. Being three years older, I naturally fell into the role of his shadow, a built-in older sister.

Roman was spoiled rotten and had a venomous temper. When I first arrived, he made it his personal mission to make my life hell. He would throw my only few worn-out clothes into the swimming pool, standing there with his rich prep-school friends to mock my second-hand sneakers.

He would kick open my bedroom door in the dead of night, yank me by the hair, and drag me out onto the freezing hardwood floor. He would pour warm bourbon over my pajamas, staring down at me. "Sloane, don't ever dream about being my family. You're just a cheap charity project my parents bought."

I knew I didn't have the luxury of fighting back. The brutal truth was, I owed his parents. They were the ones who pulled me out of that rotting foster system. If it weren't for them, the corrupt director running that group home would have eventually sold me off to whoever paid the highest price.

But a kid's viciousness burns out fast.

Under my constant, careful surveillance, Roman eventually softened. He started sticking close to me. He made sure no one else was allowed to bully me.

Whenever he couldn't sleep, he would sneak into my room. He even started calling me his sister.

I genuinely believed I would play that exact role for the rest of my life.

Until I turned nineteen, and Roman got a girlfriend. Celeste.

Her family's old money matched his perfectly. Just like Roman, Celeste was a filthy rich heiress born with a diamond spoon in her mouth. She was breathtakingly gorgeousthe kind of girl who instantly became the untouchable queen bee freshman year. Naturally, she caught Roman's eye.

They collided into a relationship, but they were both too spoiled, too used to getting their way. Their tempers were explosive, and their fights were legendary.

During one of their massive blowouts, just to piss Celeste off, Roman grabbed me and kissed me right in front of her.

Everything between us completely rotted away in that single second.

Roman and Celeste patched things up a few days later, but he never offered me a single word of explanation for that kiss. We buried it. We never spoke of it again. But the air between us turned toxicwe both knew we could never go back to the way we were.

Chapter 3

Roman and Celeste lasted three years before a massive blowout finally tore them apart. Celeste packed her bags and flew to Europe.

And Roman, completely blacked out on liquor, stumbled into my bed.

I still remember the absolute chaos of that night. The air was thick with the sharp sting of whiskey. He ripped off his tie and pinned both my wrists to the headboard with a single hand.

"Don't push me away." He dropped his entire body weight onto me, his voice scraping like gravel. "Don't push me away."

I thrashed under him, completely trapped. I gritted my teeth and forced the words out. "Roman, do you even know who I am?"

He swallowed my question with a bruising kiss.

Hours later, when my bones felt like lead and I was hovering on the edge of sleep, his breath brushed against my ear. "You're Sloane."

And just like that, we were together.

No confessions, no labels, not even a single "I like you." I kept playing the caretaker, managing his life, only now he crossed every physical boundary we ever had. We walked the Malibu beaches at sunset.

We tangled our legs together on the couch during late-night movies. We slept wrapped in each other when the thunderstorms rattled the windows.

For a fraction of a second, I actually thought I had it all.

I don't know exactly when I fell for him, but the hook was buried deep. So when Celeste flew back into town and showed up at his door, I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. When Roman blew off my birthday dinner to take her out, I dug my nails into my palms and kept my mouth shut.

I loved him. I kept telling myself he was just immature, that I just needed to give him enough rope to figure it out and come back to me.

Until I stared down at a positive pregnancy test.

I texted him a picture of the medical report. Hours dragged by before my phone finally buzzed. The line was staticky, his voice sharp with irritation.

"Sloane, I don't want a kid right now. I'm barely done living my own life. I'm not playing dad. Get rid of it."

Thirty minutes later, an old med-school friend texted me a photo.

It was Roman and Celeste. He had a hand hovering protectively at her lower back, treating her like she was made of spun glass.

A voice note followed. "Why is Roman in the OB/GYN wing with someone else? She's pregnant. Who the hell is she?"

A physical blow hammered the air from my lungs.

It wasn't that Roman didn't want a kid. He just didn't want my kid.

From day one, he never let Celeste go. She was his first, the untouchable girl on a pedestal he could never get over. Now that she was back, the cheap stand-in had to pack up and make room. Me, and the trash he wanted me to scrape out of my body.

I packed my bags and told him we were done.

For some twisted reason, Roman flat-out refused to let me walk, dragging it out and ignoring my boundaries. I had no other choice. I called up an old college friend and staged a fake new relationship just to sever the tie.

I will never forget the look in his eyes that day. He stared at me like he wanted to set me on fire. "Sloane, you and your new boy toy better stay the hell out of my sight. Or I won't guarantee he keeps breathing."

He let out a nasty, mocking laugh. "You're just a stray dog my family picked up anyway. Get this straight in your headI dumped you. You didn't dump me!"

Chapter 4

After that day, I never saw Roman again.

He expanded his business overseas shortly after, and word got out that he got engaged to Celeste. Their families were both filthy rich old money, a perfect corporate match. The lavish engagement party plastered the front pages of every major news outlet.

Now, a car crash had wiped his slate clean, dragging his memory three years into the past.

In the dead silence of the living room, the thick glass shut out the distant hum of city traffic. The quiet turned heavy, suffocating.

I pulled Daisy tighter against my chest, meeting Roman's stunned gaze. I kept my voice perfectly steady.

"Roman, we broke up three years ago. I'm married. I have a kid."

It took him a long moment to process the words. He opened his mouth, a look of utter, laughable absurdity washing over his face as he reached out to grab me. "Impossible." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"That's impossible, Sloane. How could you marry someone else? You were completely obsessed with me."

His gaze dropped to the little girl in my arms. He forced a stiff, unnatural smile.

"My memory's messed up. So this is my kid, right? You kept that baby behind my back?"

I took a sharp step back. "Roman, snap out of it! She is not yours!"

The desperate light in his eyes plunged into something completely dark. "Not mine? Then whose is she?"

He lunged forward and snatched my wrist, his grip like a steel vise. "Sloane, whose fucking kid is this?!"

"Mine."

Harrison pushed the door open. He scooped Daisy up, settling her effortlessly into the crook of his solid arm. He peeled off his bespoke suit jacket, still carrying the chill of the night air, and loosened his tie. Taking a step forward, his broad frame eclipsed me from view.

He stared down at Roman, towering over him. "We have a guest. Why didn't you text me?"

He handed me a paper bakery bag, completely ignoring how Roman's face was turning black with rage.

"Got that cake you love. Almost missed it."

Roman scanned him up and down, the tendons in his fists standing out against his skin. "Sloane, when the hell did you hook up with him?"

Before I could open my mouth, Harrison let out a laugh. It was entirely hollow, laced with pure ice.

"When? To be exact, we got together three years ago. We had our kid two years ago."

"We tied the knot this year. So, which 'when' are you asking about?"

Two tall men squared off in the dead-silent living room. Roman's eyes burned with barely restrained fury. Harrison just looked at him like he was a petulant toddler, standing with the effortless, overwhelming dominance of a man who had already won.

I let out a breath and stepped up beside Harrison, gripping his arm. I looked straight at Roman.

"He's telling the truth. Roman, we've been over for a long time. We both moved on."

"You're about to marry Celeste, and I'm married with a daughter."

"The crash just messed with your memory. We stopped" I paused, finding the right words. "We stopped crossing paths a long time ago."

"Crossing paths?"

Roman took a step back, a twisted, incredulous look crossing his face. "Sloane, we lived under the same roof for over a decade. And now you're telling me we don't cross paths?"

I dropped my gaze. "You grew up. It's time we both lived our own lives."

Harrison shifted closer. With his left arm securing our daughter, he reached out with his right and laced his fingers through minea silent, absolute claim of territory.

Chapter 5

The three of us stood together. Roman wasn't far away, but an invisible, absolute boundary line had been drawn right down the middle of the room.

After a long beat, Roman let out a laugh.

He locked his eyes dead on mine, the sound carrying a vicious edge. "Fine, Sloane. You play dirty."

After Roman finally left, Harrison ripped off his tie, his jaw tight as a razor wire. He sank deep into the sofa without a word. His dark eyes tracked my every move, his long fingers drumming a restless, agitated rhythm against his knee.

I let out a breath, walked over, and slid onto his lap. "I had no idea he was coming. He just showed up banging on the door with his memory wiped. I made it crystal clear to him."

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "It won't happen again, okay?"

Harrison let the silence stretch. Finally, he stopped tapping his knee.

"I heard he hopped on a flight back the second he woke up with amnesia. I had a bad feeling."

"I rushed back as fast as I could, but he still made it through the door."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Harrison, a man who usually operated on cold sarcasm and zero profanity, ground his teeth. "Fuck. Why didn't that car just finish the job?"

A laugh almost slipped past my lips.

Harrison always projected this untouchable, ice-cold controllike the sky could fall and he wouldn't even blink. But the second Roman was brought up, he turned wildly territorial.

Back when Roman left the country years ago, Harrison practically wanted to throw him a farewell parade just to make sure he never came back.

Now we were officially married, and Roman was back trying to stir up dirt. Of course he was pissed.

It took me half the night to talk him down. I swore on my life I would never tangle with Roman again before the tension finally bled out of his shoulders. But later, after Daisy fell asleep, Harrison pinned me to the mattress and made sure I didn't get any sleep either, leaving his absolute mark on me.

The next morning, I dragged my aching bones out of bed, mentally cursing Harrison to hell and back. He was pushing thirty. Weren't guys supposed to start going downhill after twenty-five? He was only getting more feral.

Right as I was rubbing my sore lower back, my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I thought it was a delivery driver. I picked it up, but before I could get a word out, a painfully familiar voice cut through the speaker. Even through the signal, I could feel the sheer, dripping condescension in Celeste's tone. "Sloane, we need to meet."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "What for?"

"I think we need to have a conversation regarding Roman. Don't you agree?"

I let out a sharp breath. "I have absolutely nothing to do with Roman. I didn't drive the car that smashed his head in."

"Whatever issues you two have, sort them out yourselves. Leave me out of it."

I tapped the red button and dropped the phone on the counter.

I never liked Celeste.

It wasn't because Roman dropped me for herRoman's obsession wasn't her fault. It was the way she always looked down on me, like I was some piece of trash she had accidentally stepped on. Roman and I didn't even cross the line until after she left him.

Technically, when she came crawling back, she was the other woman. Yet she always paraded around like she owned the throne.

I had finally clawed my way out of that past. I built a new life. Whether it was Roman or Celeste, I didn't want a single thing to do with their toxic drama ever again.

Chapter 6

I thought I made myself perfectly clear to both of them. But when I dropped off a gift at Roman's mother's birthday luncheon, Celeste was already sitting right next to her.

She locked eyes with me the second I walked in. She was waiting for me.

I completely ignored her gaze. "Since you have guests, I'll show myself out."

I turned around, but Celeste's voice snapped through the air. "Stop right there. Sloane. Roman went to see you, didn't he?"

I stopped and looked back. "What is your point, Celeste?"

She lifted her chin, sizing me up. "Sloane, I genuinely didn't expect you to be this much of a parasite."

"I know you were obsessed with Roman for years. You took advantage of our breakup, crawled into his bed, and trapped him into dating you."

"But we are engaged now. You are married. Can you drop this desperate act?"

A dry laugh ripped from my throat.

Celeste had always operated like this. She spun reality to fit whatever delusional narrative made her the victim. In her head, Roman worshipped the ground she walked on. If he was anywhere near me, it had to be because I threw myself at him.

I crossed my arms.

"If you're having paranoid delusions, Celeste, coming to me won't fix it. Go book a session with a psychiatrist