Chapter 5 - The Glass Fortress
That night, Nikolai took me to his private residence—a sprawling penthouse taking up the top three floors of a concrete and glass tower overlooking Lake Michigan.
It wasn't a home; it was a fortress. Reinforced glass, private elevator codes, and armed guards stationed discreetly at every exit.
Nikolai led me into the massive living room. A glass of aged bourbon was already waiting for him on a dark marble counter. He handed me a glass of red wine.
"Your rooms are in the east wing," Nikolai said, leaning against the counter and unbuttoning his collar. "Private bath, walk-in closet, independent security access. No one enters without your permission. Not even me."
I took a sip of the wine, feeling the warm liquid settle my frayed nerves. "You set this all up before you even proposed to me in that hallway, didn't you?"
Nikolai smiled faintly. "I’ve had my eyes on the Hart family trust for six months, Evelyn. I knew Julian was sleeping with your sister three weeks before you did."
I went cold. "You knew?"
"I knew," Nikolai admitted, his eyes holding mine with total honesty. "I was waiting for Julian to make his move so I could use it to destroy his credibility with the council. I intended to buy your shares after he broke the engagement. But when I saw you standing in that hallway... dignity intact, refusing to cry... I realized buying your shares wasn't enough."
"Why?"
"Because a trust fund can be managed by lawyers," Nikolai said, stepping away from the counter and walking slowly toward me until he stood inches away. "But a queen has to be born. You didn't break, Evelyn. Most women in your position would have wept or hidden. You walked out with your head held high. I need a woman like that beside me if I'm going to run this city."
I looked up at him, searching his dark, handsome face for any sign of deception. "This is still a contract, Nikolai."
"Of course," he murmured, reaching out to gently trace the edge of my jaw with the back of his fingers. His touch was warm, sending a sudden, electrifying shiver down my spine. "A contract between two consenting business partners. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the war."
Before I could answer, his phone buzzed on the counter.
Nikolai checked the screen, his expression instantly shifting from smooth charm to icy calculation. "It's my father. The council is calling an emergency session tomorrow morning at nine. Julian is trying to contest the validity of our marriage."
"On what grounds?"
"He's claiming you were forced into it under duress," Nikolai said dryly. "He's telling the board that I used mafia coercion to steal his bride's sister."
I let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Duress? I signed the license at city hall with a smile on my face."
"It doesn't matter what the truth is," Nikolai said, setting his glass down. "In our world, perception is reality. Tomorrow morning, you step into the council chambers—a place where no outsider woman has been allowed in twenty years. You will have to stand before seven old men who rule the Midwest underground and prove that you chose me."
May you like
I set my wine glass down beside his, stepping even closer until my chest brushed against his suit.
"Then give me a crash course in Moretti law, husband," I whispered, my voice laced with determination. "Because tomorrow, I'm going to tear Julian's claims to pieces."
