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Roman

By JL Quick

Secrets made him dangerous. Power made him ruthless.

Before New York learned to fear the Ashford name, Roman Ashford was a man with nothing—no pedigree, no privilege, just relentless ambition that refused to die. He carved his way into a world that rejected him and set his sights on the one family that had everything he craved.

The Harringtons.

They had wealth, power, influence, and a secret dark enough to destroy them. Weaponizing his knowledge, blackmail became Roman’s leverage. His silence in exchange for their empire, their allegiance… and their daughter, Cora.

Locked inside his dark, consuming world, there is no mercy for defiance. Roman doesn’t just want control of this city. He demands her submission, to stamp his name on her bloodline, and use her body to build a legacy—heirs to inherit the empire he bled for.

She should hate him. Fear him. Refuse the man who stole her future.

But the more he demands, the more her defiance fractures. Control blurs into obsession, fear twists into need, until resistance stops meaning escape, and the man she swore she’d never belong to becomes the Daddy she craves.

Chapter One

The Late 1980s

Roman

“I’m well aware I don’t have an appointment, Edward.” Ignoring his request to leave his office, I drop into the seat before his desk. “But you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

With the signet ring on his pinky catching the light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his corner office, Edward Harrington’s fingers drum against the polished mahogany of his desk.

Unlike the man across from me, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. That much is evident in the way he stares at me as he struggles to understand how someone like me–—someone who should be carrying his luggage or parking his car—could be sitting across from him with a lifetime of his sins in a manila envelope.

I spent my childhood becoming fluent in the language of the wealthy’s indifference. I can still remember sitting quietly in corners as my mother cleaned their penthouses and graystones, my homework spread across my knees, trying not to make a sound as they stepped over her as if she were nothing. We would leave their world of excess and go home to a studio apartment in Uptown that wasn’t suitable for the rats scurrying behind the walls.

Desperate to attain what these men all had handed to them, I worked three jobs to make ends meet while I struggled through night school. At forty-one, I’ve clawed my way to a position as a mid-level executive at Harrington Holdings, making far more money than I could have ever dreamed.

But the moment I saw Cora Harrington sweeping through the lobby of this very building a year ago, all honey-blonde curls and emerald-green eyes, with her laugh cutting through the sterile corporate air like church bells, the strides I had made for my betterment suddenly seemed insufficient. She breezed past security with the casual entitlement of someone who’d never once questioned her place in the world. Meanwhile, I was just another invisible nobody in a cheap suit who could never get a woman like her as she strolled past me toward the elevator.

Days, weeks, and then months passed with me unable to push that sweet angel out of my mind. I wanted her—no, I needed her—and I was determined to find a way. And that way meant money—lots of money—by any means necessary.

When I uncovered the truth behind the Harrington fortune after searching through far too many sleepless nights—that it had been built on sins, lies, and murder—I recognized an opportunity. I could either destroy the people who ignored me my entire life or use the information to secure everything I’ve ever wanted—making me one of them.

“What is this?” Edward snarls as I slide the envelope filled with bribery, embezzlement, cover-ups, and death across his desk. He tears it open with the impatience of a man who still thinks he has far better things to do than deal with a lowly executive, his eyes widening as he quickly thumbs through the contents.

“I think it’s pretty clear what this is.” I smirk with a dry chuckle.

He tosses the envelope, and its contents fan across his desk, the vein in his temple growing more prominent and beginning to throb. “How much do you want?”

A dark laugh billows from my lungs, the sound echoing in his pristine office, and I shake my head. “This isn’t about money, Edward.”

“It’s always about money,” he snaps, his fingers drumming nervously against his desk.

I nod, unable to fight the grin tugging at the corner of my lips. He’s right. But this isn’t just about the money.

“Five million and this goes away,” he offers, his voice tight with what he mistakes for control.

My gaze falls to the papers scattered on the mahogany between us as I continue, “Spread between us are at least three life sentences worth of jail time, enough civil lawsuits to bankrupt your company, and details that would make your family social pariahs.” I lift my eyes from the papers about to make me a very rich man and meet his. “Making this go away is going to cost you far more than five million dollars.”

“Ten,” he counters, his jaw clenching.

I abruptly tip my head upward, silently gesturing higher. Much higher.