ROMAN
Jerome had been giving me the side-eye all morning. We'd just wrapped a meeting with one of our biggest clients, and while everyone else nodded and smiled, he kept staring, sharp and calculating, like he knew something I didn't.
I loosened my tie and leaned back, trying to ignore the weight in my chest. "What?" I asked, keeping my voice casual, though it barely sounded like me.
"How long are you planning to keep your fiancée's sister around?" His tone was measured, precise, and full of judgment.
The question hit harder than I expected. My jaw tightened. "Come on, Jerome. You make it sound like I'm running a scandal."
"Because you are," he said, folding his arms, the lines of his face sharp. "You're engaged, Roman. You're supposed to marry Courtney. And yet…" His eyes
