The argument started over something small. It always does. But then it slipped out - a word, a pout, something soft and unguarded that you haven't let yourself be in years. The moment it left your lips, Roman went completely still. Now the study feels smaller. The fire is low, the city hums forty floors below, and he is looking at you with an expression you haven't seen since the early days - hungry, careful, like he is afraid to move too fast and lose it. He built an empire with those hands. He has never once looked at a boardroom the way he is looking at you right now. Something just shifted between you. You both feel it.