roman keane reagans

“Oh I’m sorry, did I fucking stutter? What fucking skeletons? Did I get hitched, do I have a kid that I’m not telling you about? Maybe I even have a secret identity and you’re right, only using you for sex,” she spoke, her brown eyes raging with a dark fire that would kill if it were real. “Was it your job to fuck your boss? No, but you fucking did it anyway so stop fucking turning the tables. Just admit that you fucking lied, Roman,” she practically yelled. Now she was feeling like the crazy one, how did that end up fair? She turned around, she couldn’t help but let out a grumbled scream, taking the glass from the side table and throwing it across the room, away from them both. He was messing with her head, everything was convoluted. “I would’ve listened months ago –– yeah, you had months but did you want to talk and be honest then? No, you just got fucked and got a cozy in with the boss,” Emmy spat, her eyes following his every move as he grabbed his things. “I’m not shit to you, fucking crystal clear Roman.” 

Her childish attitude was getting straight to his nerves, fueling his rage to the point where he ought to make a choice; either lash out or be wise enough to walk away before things got real ugly. She had every reason to be upset, but there was only so much he could do when she refused to listen. Instead, he was left dealing with her temper tantrum beyond malcontent. He didn’t flinch when the glass hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces, but the rage inside him pounded against his self-control. “That’s not what I meant and you fucking know it! Stop twisting my words, Emmy,” he snarled back, stopping dead in his tracks as he glared at her. Whether he liked it or not, she’d crawled under his skin and embedded her very essence into his bones. She meant a whole lot more to him than what he felt comfortable acknowledging. “Yes, I lied!” he continued as he threw his arms out wide. “Is that what you wanna hear, huh? I lied. I didn’t tell you about my wife because she’s the last god damn person I wanna discuss with anyone, least of all with you.” Scoffing, he shook his head. “Now if that’s so fucking hard to understand, let me put that in perspective for you; I wanna talk about her just as much as you wanna talk about your sister.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? It was my job to do a damn background check, don’t get your ass hurt because you couldn’t hide your skeletons better,” she snarled, her fangs and claws ready to rip into his skin. When she got angry it was like some animalistic fever fell over her body, wanting to go and gouge his eyes out. She wracked her brains and couldn’t come up with a single thing that he could of found against her. For someone in charge of a mob, her record was pretty clean with the exception of those trips to rehab that didn’t end up sticking. As his hand wrapped around her slim wrists, she couldn’t help but grow angrier, like a toxic weed wrapping its way around her sanity. “I wanted it months ago you fucking liar,” she hissed through gritted teeth as she tried to rip herself from his grasp. “So what, huh? You got what you fucking wanted, didn’t you? But yeah, pin it back on me,” she breathed, looking at him with disgusted features when he dropped her hands. “So what? You’re gonna just give up like that? Just like your marriage?”

“It means you didn’t do that good of a job hiding your own skeletons like you thought. The difference is that I’d never push you to fucking talk about it until you're ready,” he exclaimed, frustration exuding from him. “You’ve got your fucking wires crossed. Was it also your job to fuck the guy on Cotter’s payroll? ‘Cause he sure as hell don’t give a damn about my marriage, and neither would you if we’d kept this professional.” The sane thing to do would be to end this right here, right now. But that was easier said than done when there were undeniable feelings involved. “Oh, so you do actually give a shit about what I want? How considerate of you. Now if only you could shut your mouth for one god damn second and listen instead of berating every damn thing I say,” he snarled, growing sick of her attitude. As she took another jab at him, he’d had enough. He had thick skin but that didn't mean taking slaps without reason. “Fuck you,” he scoffed, hastily grabbing his belongings from the nightstand before eyeing her once more. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. And you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you, you’re not my girlfriend. I don’t owe you shit.” 

Aiden didn’t know what to say at one point. It was like their roles were changed and he was the grumpy old man giving the boy a scolding. “Okay,” started off, taking advantage of his inner frustration, didn’t matter if he dropped bombs, now wasn’t the time to be subtle. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled, raising his voice seconds later. “You know you could’ve have gotten us caught, right? Or wait, you gonna blame your off-game on that too?” With that, he approached the older man and shoved the car keys against his chest, letting them go at once before moving on to eventually press the large button on the wall to make the garage door shut. 

“You don’t think I fucking know that!?” Roman exclaimed and threw his hands out wide. If Aiden hadn’t been there to save the day, he’d be royally screwed, but he’d be damned if he would let anyone berate him. Smoldering eyes glared at Aiden, as the young man’s infuriating attitude only fueled his temper. The only reason Roman tried to compose himself was that Aiden was family. Otherwise, he would’ve lashed out at him the second he showed any sign of disrespect. Instead, he took ahold of the keys, clutching them so hard in his fist the grooves dug into his skin. “Watch yourself, boy,” he warned, pointing his finger at Aiden, “I don’t need that god damn attitude right now. I got you into this fucking business, I can just as easily pull you out of it. Watch your mouth or we got ourselves a bigger problem — you got that?”

It was a tactic of hers to be calm until she had to explode, until she couldn’t hold the storm in anymore. But so far, it was working to get him riled up which is just what she needed. “You think I’d work with you without knowing everything? Come on, I know people don’t give you credit but you have to be smarter than that,” she pressed, her dark eyes narrowing towards his. As she heard his excuses and felt his breath getting closer, she broke out like a bat out of hell. “Oh, spare me the sob story, this isn’t Hollywood, you don’t need to sell your story like a thirteen year old. You had nine fucking years so fuck off, Roman. Taking her fists and shoving them against his chest. “So what, huh? You didn’t think about telling me while we were fucking for months? I couldn’t give a shit if she was your wife thirty fucking years ago.. you’re still married to her, you utter piece of shit.” 

“That’s damn rich coming from someone with a past like yours. You think you’re the only one who did a fucking background check?” Roman snapped, glaring back at her. He didn’t intend to use the piece of intel he had on her, but she was pushing his buttons and feeding on his vulnerabilities. This had nothing to do with their business relationship, but they’d blurred the lines long ago. It was evident in the way they both reacted, and as her fists hit his chest, he swiftly clasped his hands around her wrists. “You wanted the fucking truth, didn’t you?” he said through gritted teeth, still holding her firmly in place. Another scoff fell from his lips as she kept going. She had every right to be angry, but what good would that do if he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “Yeah? You were fucking me less than a minute ago and you sure as hell didn’t seem to give a shit then either!” he exclaimed, abruptly releasing his grip around her wrists as he shook his head. This had been a bad idea from the start. 

Maybe a part of her knew that she was in the wrong in some parts, but she would never admit that, her pride was something too big to swallow. And another part of her wanted him to be confused by this, deny it, to prove her wrong (even if she never was). Emmy wasn’t in the line of work to make mistakes, not her role anyway. It was a rule of thumb not to get involved with the people you have to look over, but when it came to sex –– no, when it came to feelings, did Emmy ever consider what was healthy or what was best? never. “snooping through your phone? i didn’t need to go through your phone to know you were married,” her condescending tone traveled over to him, admiring his features as he grew frustrated and she stayed calm. it was rare to see the storm of rage emmy had been packing. it used to be so much more evident but these days, she knew which battles to pick and which ones to come back to and cheat at. As the phone was snatched from her grip, she tilted her head to the side. “Tsk. Don’t lie, I know more than you think and I also know that if she hasn’t been, you would’ve told me about her,” she said as a ghost-like smile draped over her features. Him getting closer only drew her further from it all, anger seeping into her veins. “Because you didn’t fucking tell me.” 

Her condescending tone and attitude triggered unexpected anger in him. His wife was a sore subject, one that Roman rarely talked about with anyone, least of all with Emmy. “So you did your research,” he let out a humorless laugh. “Always business first, right?” It didn’t exactly take him by surprise and he certainly didn’t blame her. He’d taken the same route to get a lay of the land, to find out who he was getting in bed with, well, in more ways than one. “What the hell do you want me to say? She left me, Emmy. She walked out on me and our kid nine fucking years ago and didn’t look back. You think signing a fucking piece of paper was the first thing that crossed my mind?” he scoffed. Lord knows he’d had his hands full trying to raise Taylor on his own. “Yeah, she might still be my wife on paper, but she stopped being my wife the second she walked out the door.”

Before he was someone that she slept around with, he worked for her. She was his boss, what he did with the shop was ran through her and then to Ryan. It was no surprise that someone like Emmy wanted to know more about him than he could ever know about her. To already know the deepest parts of them before they were willing to share was how she kept her neck above water, so that when the time came to jump ship, she had a way of swimming away safely. As she heard footsteps stop, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Maybe it was her way of being a bit hurt by it all, feeling like a second choice but would she ever let that show? This is Emmy Paxton, a boss of people, someone who learned to conceal her emotions rather well unless it came to anger and in that instance, she was a storm. 

The worst part is that she never knew what they were, but that didn’t stop her from going on his phone and snooping through his record. What better moment to ruin than one that was so normal for both of them. Turning around, she stood up, her naked body on display as she slipped on one of his shirts he left a while ago. “I guess I am, aren’t I? But funny, seems that as soon as I bring it up, you don’t want to answer anyway,” she said holding the phone to her face, reading along to the messages. As a silent moment fell on them, she took her opportunity to narrow her eyes at as, clenching her jaw and her small fists. “I don’t fuck married men.” 

Dark eyes automatically retraced their path towards Emmy, following her every move as the slender woman stood up from the bed. Now wasn’t the time for distractions, but she sure knew how to reel him in. After all, her seductive techniques are what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. “And you’d happily answer all of my questions if you’d caught me snooping through your phone?” he remarked, a humorless laugh falling from his lips as he glanced her once more. No, she would do what she did best; conceal all of her emotions and push him away. Much like he was tempted to do at this point, but the line of trivial infatuation had already been crossed. He stepped closer as she continued to read through his private messages. Messages that were not intended for her to read. Messages that would only provoke a bunch of questions he was not eager to answer. “She hasn’t been my wife for a long time,” he grumbled as he snatched the phone out of her hand. His patience was wearing thin and so was his temper. Standing mere an inch from her, he stared into amber eyes like he was searching for something in her through them. “You know that. Now, why do you suddenly care?” 

@romanreagans

A heavy breath slipped through his lips once he turned off the engine. It wasn’t every day he let himself go on missions like this, but he had to admit it was fun, funnier than it should’ve been. These cars were definitely gonna score them a lotta money, and if it hadn’t been for Roman’s off-moment, his mood would’ve been far more energetic by now. Sure, adrenaline still surged through his veins, though not in the same way. Not the way he wanted. Stepping out of the car, he turned to approach the sports car where Roman was seated, raising his arms both in frustration and confusion. “What the hell was that back there?” he asked him, and not in a nice way. Hell, he was far from used to talk to the old man like that… oh, what the hell, right?

Roman knew damn well they never should’ve taken this job. His head wasn't in the game and it nearly cost them everything. Never mind him, but if anything were to happen to Aiden, it would be Roman’s responsibility. Killing the engine, a frustrated fist hit the steering wheel as Roman cursed himself for being so foolish. Ever since he’d run into his wife, his head had been a complete mess. He never should’ve gone through with the heist, with or without Aiden. Exiting the sports car, he could already hear Aiden’s raging voice booming through the garage. Normally he’d never allow Aiden to talk to him like that, but then again, everything was far from ordinary these days. “I was off my game tonight, alright? Back the hell off,” he cautioned as he slammed the car door shut.

Wasn’t it always the after math that held the most peace? Even with natural disasters, humans self inflicting pain and tragic event caused by people, finishing always went hand in hand with calmness. Even after sex, when Roman and Emmy laid side by side, caught and tangled between white sheets, the world seemed almost still. Just like those natural disasters, she seemed to be at peace but the lie was in her demeanor because on the inside she was scheming, just like always. If he thought she was just another regular girl that was just around for a regular fuck, he was mistaken because the last thing Emmy Paxton was described as was regular. 

As he excused himself from the bed, Emmy took a moment to look at the door, she knew better to jump straight into the snooping but it’s not like she needed to. She knew he was married but the more times he slept with her and spent the night at her apartment insured him to feel sometime of way. Call it toxic or unhealthy but she wasn’t complaining or changing it anytime soon. Her blood boiled as she picked up his phone, seeing the lock screen but that couldn’t keep Emmy out. She tilted it towards the light and breathed against the glass, seeing the four most pressed keys, finding out the code in a matter of seconds, it was like he wanted her to find out everything. Pulling up the texts, she couldn’t help herself, not that it was jealousy –– or maybe it was –– but it was more her job than anything else. it wasn’t really. her heart sunk when she saw that name. the ex wife, the one that mattered  and the most important fact. the one that wasn’t a booty call for him. she would’ve locked the phone and erased her tracks but she couldn’t help but smirk as he came back into the room. “So, how’s the Mrs?” @romanreagans

It was safe to say Roman knew his way around Emmy’s apartment pretty well by now. Grabbing a cold drink from the fridge, he downed a mouthful and aimlessly glanced around the room. He was much more at ease here as opposed to his place because it meant there'd be less prying eyes and less of a chance for people to start asking questions. As he returned to Emmy’s bedroom, Roman came to a quick halt, clearly taken aback by her question regarding his wife. No one had asked him that in years, and to have it come from her, the woman he’d been sleeping with for the past couple of months? Now that only made it ten times worse. Dark eyes darted his own phone in Emmy’s hands as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. Leave it to her to track down Mary Lou’s messages within moments. 

“You snooping around on my phone now?” he scoffed, blatantly ignoring her initial question. It wasn’t a topic they spoke about often or easily, and he sure as hell wasn’t eager to start now. Not necessarily because he wanted to hide things from Emmy, but because it would force him to go into details he’d rather leave out. The two hadn’t exactly defined their relationship, but they both knew they were mixing business with pleasure. Breaking the unwritten rule. And to top it all off, he was now supposed to explain to her the intricate details of his marriage?