“We built it.”

“You owned the land.”

“You made it worth owning.”

For months, Roman had asked her to move into his penthouse. For months, she had refused. She loved him, but she had fought too hard for independence to let love become another beautiful cage.

Roman had never pressured her. Instead, he’d given her a key and told her the door would stay open.

That night, Harper took the key from her purse. Roman looked down at it. “Is that a surrender?”