Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven
16 MONTHS AGO

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of my office, turning the polished floor into a canvas of shifting light and shadow. I barely had time to settle into my chair and open my laptop before Angelica swept in, her heels clattering with a confidence that demanded attention. She looked like she had probably walked the length of the corridor as if it were a Paris runway...her latest Armani suit sculpting every curve, a too bright smile catching the light every few steps. I almost expected a photographer to pop out and snap a shot.

I pressed record on my phone as the door swung shut, because I already knew what was coming. She took a seat directly in front of me, crossing her legs with precise calculation, a posture so deliberate it practically radiated entitlement. I did not rise to acknowledge her. My fingers curled around the warm edge of my coffee mug. This was business. Very explosive business.

She cleared her throat before speaking. "Mother said you came by the house to ask why we went behind your backs, Miara," she began, her words sharp and clipped, like shards of glass pressing into silk. Her eyes bore into me. "Who are you exactly? You are nothing but an orphan. You are lucky to even be sitting in this chair." She scoffed. "But don't worry. Now that I am working in this company, I will make Niklath see you for who you really are. A low-life orphan and a dirtbag who belongs working as a waitress. I will marry him...I will become his Luna just you wait. I can't wait for you to fall into my trap!"

I shook my head and lifted the corners of my mouth in a slow, amused smile. "All this venom, all this effort to belittle me over the past few years," I said, keeping my tone smooth and calm. "Is it really just because I'm married to him? Because I only met him recently, but you've been cruel to me from day one...since you came into our lives."

She hissed and leaned forward, eyes dark with fury. "I have never liked you because I should be the boss. I should be the heiress. I should be the one sitting behind that desk."

She paused, as though waiting for some applause or for me to crumble beneath her performance.

I watched her, cold curiosity coiling in my belly. "So my father adopted me and groomed me to... what exactly? Keep the seat warm until you arrived?" I let the words slip slowly, almost languid in delivery, and her eyes flickered with an uncomfortable recognition.

She answered in a clipped whisper. "Prepare yourself. Even if you run crying to Father or to Niklath, they will not believe you. Because by the time I am done with you~they will never choose you over me."

The words hung in the air heavy and false. What I saw in her eyes was desperation, a flicker of fear that she knew she had overstepped. I let my smile soften into something kind, almost serene. "Angelica," I said gently, "yes. That will make things more interesting. Why don't I call Niklath right now and ask him if he wants to divorce me and marry you?"

Her breath hitched. One flicker of panic lit her face before she masked it with a laugh that sounded brittle. "Just you wait!"

She rose swiftly from the chair, angling as if to exit. Coward! I offered nothing more. Just my eyes. She left my office without bothering to close the door behind her, her footsteps suddenly too real, too fast. I was proud of how well I handled that encounter...how even my calm had shaken her.

By the time the elevator doors opened again at midday, I already knew where I was heading. Niklath's office door had a discreet Do Not Disturb sign, but I had come prepared. I pushed it closed behind me, locking it with a soft click. He was sitting behind his desk, leaning back, tossing between two afternoon papers when I walked in. He looked up slowly. Those eyes of his...the brightest blue I have ever known narrowed in playful anticipation. "Are you here to ravage your poor, neglected husband?" he teased, stretching his hand toward me.

I laughed and pivoted around the desk, sliding into his lap with deliberate ease. "No," I said, breath coming in a warm rush. "I came to eat. I'm starving." My fingers found mine in his hair and held. I lifted one corner of my lips into a teasing curve. "But I did want you to listen to something."

His eyebrows shot up, curious. His hands curled around my waist, holding me steady. I reached into my bag, pulled out my phone, and hit play. Her voice was cold, confident, vicious. Panel by panel, she had laid out her resentment, her agenda, her ambition. And I watched those handsome blue features transition...first curiosity, then amusement, then focus. Then, finally, he pulled me closer and pressed his forehead to mine. When the final word dropped, the part where she said 'I will make Niklas see you for who you really are'...his eyes darkened. He leaned back, placed a kiss on my temple, something tender to temper the thunder in his gaze.

"I'm sorry you have to carry all that," he said, voice low with empathy. "Fortunately for you, she's not related to you by blood."

I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding.

"Now," he said, a rough smile cracking through the storm, "what do we do with this?"

He reached for my phone. "Do we bring this to your father now?"

I drew a slow breath, my heart still racing, but my voice firm and quiet. "No. I want to see what she plans next. We keep this." I touched his arm, and he smiled at me in that way that made me feel like we were a unit no venom could break.

"And I will send you the recording too...just like I did with the one of Polenya. For both of us."

He nodded, chin settling into the idea, the corner of his mouth lifting in a shared, quiet understanding between us. He got up and lifted me effortlessly, holding me as he carried me toward the minibar he kept in the corner, already reaching for glasses and wine. I leaned in and kissed him softly...long enough to echo something gentle and fierce all at once.

"Thank you for being my anchor," I whispered.

He met my eyes, steady but unspeaking. He squeezed my waist. "Always."