Chapter 2 - The Morning After and The Fallout
I woke up engulfed in the scent of cedar, clean linen, and masculine spice. The bed was massive, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. For a moment, the morning sun blinded me to the reality of where I was. Then, the events of the gala flooded back, sharp and vivid. The shock on Liam's face. The panic in Amber's eyes. The solid, immovable strength of Nico's arm around my waist.
I pushed myself up, wrapping the heavy duvet around my shoulders. A soft knock at the bedroom door made me jump.
"Come in," I called out cautiously.
The door opened, and a stern but polite older woman in a sleek gray suit wheeled in a breakfast cart loaded with fresh fruit, pastries, and black coffee. "Good morning, Ms. Vance. I am Mrs. Sterling, Mr. Rossi's head of household staff. Mr. Rossi had to step into an emergency board meeting regarding his son's... restructuring. He left instructions for you."
She handed me a thick, cream-colored envelope. I opened it. The handwriting was sharp, elegant, and uncompromising.
Luna. Eat. Rest. My team is currently packing your apartment. Do not turn on your phone; the media has already acquired footage from the gala. I will return at noon. — N.
I thanked Mrs. Sterling and, naturally defying orders, reached into my clutch from the night before and turned on my phone.
It nearly vibrated out of my hand.
There were ninety-seven missed calls. Fifty from Liam, twenty from my sister Amber, and the rest from unknown numbers. My inbox was a war zone. I opened a news notification that had popped up on the screen.
ROSSI EMPIRE SHATTERED? BILLIONAIRE NICO ROSSI DISINHERITS SON, CLAIMS SON'S EX-GIRLFRIEND AT CHARITY GALA.
Below the headline was a blurry, zoomed-in photo of Nico and me on the dance floor. His hand was resting intimately on my bare back, his face leaning into mine. We looked like a king and his queen, completely oblivious to the destruction we had left in our wake.
I opened Liam's text thread. The progression was pathetic.
2:00 AM: Luna, please. You have to tell him to stop. He locked me out of the company servers.
4:00 AM: My credit cards are declining. Luna, I'm sorry. Amber meant nothing. It was a mistake.
7:00 AM: You're really going to let him ruin my life? After three years? Pick up the phone!
I felt a dark, satisfying thrill. He was experiencing a fraction of the helplessness he had forced onto me.
At exactly noon, the heavy front doors of the penthouse opened. Nico walked in, wearing a sharp charcoal suit. He looked tired but energized, a predator returning from a successful hunt. He tossed his briefcase onto a glass table and walked directly toward me, not stopping until he was close enough that I had to tilt my head back.
"You turned your phone on," he stated. It wasn't a question.
"I wanted to see the wreckage," I admitted, my voice steady.
Nico raised a hand, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. The rough texture of his tattooed skin sent shivers down my neck. "The board was panicked. Liam attempted to rally a few sympathetic directors this morning to block his demotion."
"Did it work?"
"Liam is currently sorting mail in the sub-basement of the Rossi Tower," Nico said smoothly. "I made it clear that any director who supported him would find their own careers thoroughly investigated. The vote to strip his VP title was unanimous."
He leaned in, his lips hovering inches from mine. "He is broken, Luna. But this is not just about him anymore. The press is demanding to know who you are to me. They want to know why a man who has been notoriously single for a decade just waged war on his own blood for a twenty-four-year-old woman."
"And what are we going to tell them?" I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
May you like
Nico closed the gap, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that was slow, demanding, and utterly possessive. It tasted of coffee, danger, and absolute certainty.
"We tell them the truth," Nico murmured against my mouth. "We tell them you are mine."
