Chapter 27 TWENTY-SEVEN
Lennox hadn't been back to Queens since moving into the penthouse. Not intentionally avoiding it, just... busy. Between Patricia's events and volunteer work and playing the perfect billionaire's wife, weeks had slipped by without her noticing.
Her mom's text Tuesday morning was gentle but pointed.
Haven't seen you in forever, sweetheart. Come visit this weekend? I miss you.
Guilt hit immediately. She called instead of texting back.
"Mom, I'm sorry. Things have been crazy…"
"I know, honey. You're married now, you have a whole new life. I get it." Her mom's voice was warm, understanding. "But I'd still like to see my daughter occasionally."
"This Saturday? I can come for lunch."
"Perfect. I'll make your favorite."
Saturday morning, Lennox told Callum she'd be out for the day. He just nodded from behind his laptop, already working despite it being nine AM on a weekend.
"Tell your family I said hello," he added as she headed to the elevator.
She almost pointed out he'd never met her family except at the wedding, but she just said okay and left.
Marcus offered to drive her but she took the subway instead. Needed to feel normal for a few hours, not like someone who had a chauffeur and was married to a billionaire.
The apartment in Queens looked exactly the same. Small and cramped and home in a way the penthouse would never be. Her mom opened the door before Lennox could knock, pulled her into a hug that lasted longer than usual.
"Let me look at you." She stepped back, studying Lennox's face. "You look beautiful. Tired though. Are you sleeping okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom."
"That's not what I asked."
They went inside. The familiar smell of her mom's cooking filled the apartment. Chicken parmesan, Lennox's favorite since childhood. Real food, not whatever fancy stuff Henri made with ingredients she couldn't pronounce.
"Emma wanted to come but she had to work," her mom said, setting plates on the small kitchen table. "She's been bragging to everyone about her sister marrying a billionaire. I had to tell her to tone it down."
"Sounds like Emma."
"How is he? Callum. I feel like we barely talked at the wedding."
Lennox sat down, tried to figure out how to answer that. "He's good. Busy with work mostly."
"And you two are happy?"
"Yeah. We're... it's an adjustment. But we're figuring it out."
Her mom gave her a look that said she wasn't buying it but wouldn't push. "Marriage is hard work. Especially in the beginning. Your father and I barely spoke the first six months."
They ate lunch, talked about normal things. Her mom's job at the hospital, Emma's latest drama with her boyfriend, neighbors Lennox had grown up around. Simple conversation that didn't require memorizing briefings or avoiding dangerous topics.
It felt good. Grounding. Like she could breathe properly for the first time in weeks.
"Tell me about the penthouse," her mom said over coffee. "Is it as fancy as the pictures online?"
"Fancier. It's ridiculous, honestly. I'm scared to touch half the furniture."
"And Patricia? Is she treating you well?"
"She's... intense. But nice. She just wants everything to be perfect all the time."
Her mom laughed. "Sounds exhausting."
"It is."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then her mom reached across the table, squeezed her hand.
"You seem different," she said quietly. "Not in a bad way. Just... I don't know. Like you're playing a role."
Lennox's chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
"The way you sit now. The way you hold your coffee cup. Even the way you talk is more polished." Her mom smiled gently. "I'm not criticizing, honey. I know you have to fit into that world. I just want to make sure you're not losing yourself in the process."
"I'm not."
"Good. Because no amount of money is worth that." She stood, started clearing plates. "Stay true to yourself, Lennox. That's all I ask. The girl I raised, the one who cares about people and wants to help. Don't let them turn you into someone you're not."
The words stuck with her on the subway ride back. Stay true to yourself. But who was that exactly? The girl from Queens who used to hack corporate servers albeit for the greater good? Or Mrs. Westbrook who made small talk at charity brunches?
She stared out the train window at her reflection, at the designer coat and expensive haircut, and felt the distance between her two worlds like an actual physical ache in her chest. Fulfiling her contractual obligations was getting harder than she’d anticipated.
She made it back to the penthouse around six, expecting it to be empty. Callum usually worked late on Saturdays.
Instead, she heard voices in the living room. Male voices, low conversation punctuated by occasional laughter.
She walked in to find Callum sitting with Victor and another man she didn't recognize. Younger, maybe early thirties, dark hair and an easy smile. Papers spread across the coffee table, laptops open, wine glasses half-empty.
All three looked up when she entered.
"Darling." Callum stood. "Didn't expect you back yet."
"I can go to my room if you're busy…"
"No, no, come meet Adrian." Victor gestured to the younger man, warm and welcoming. "Adrian Holt, this is Callum's lovely wife."
Adrian stood, offered his hand. His grip was firm but not aggressive, his smile genuine and friendly. "Nice to meet you. Victor's told me a lot about you."
"All good things, I hope."
"Of course. He says you're practically a saint, working with underprivileged kids." Adrian sat back down, relaxed like he'd been there a hundred times before. "That's really admirable."
"Adrian's consulting on a new infrastructure project for the company," Callum explained. "We're just going over some preliminary details."
"Don't let me interrupt." Lennox headed toward the kitchen. "I'll just grab some water."
"How was your family?" Callum asked.
She paused, surprised he remembered where she'd gone considering his nose had been practically buried in his laptop when she left. "Good. My mom made chicken parmesan."
"Sounds nice."
"Actually," Adrian said, leaning forward slightly, "I'd love to hear more about your volunteer work. Victor mentioned you teach computer skills in Brooklyn?"
"Yeah. Just basic stuff for middle schoolers. Nothing fancy."
"Still, that's great. Not enough people doing that kind of work." He seemed genuinely interested, not just making polite conversation. "What made you want to start teaching?"
"I just... I had the skills and they needed help. Seemed like the right thing to do."
"Well, it's wonderful." Adrian's smile was warm, disarming. "The world needs more people who actually care about giving back instead of just writing checks."
Victor nodded approvingly. "Adrian's quite involved in community work himself. I keep telling him he should meet some of Patricia's charity board members, they'd love his ideas."
"Maybe after we wrap up this project," Adrian said. "One thing at a time."
The conversation flowed easily, naturally. Adrian asked thoughtful questions without being pushy, laughed at Victor's jokes, deferred to Callum on business matters with just the right amount of respect. He was good at this, at making people comfortable, at being charming without seeming like he was trying.
"Well, I'll let you get back to work." Lennox grabbed her water. "Nice meeting you, Adrian."
"You too. I'm sure we'll see each other again."
She headed to her room, closed the door, and sat on her bed feeling unsettled in a way she couldn't quite name.
Nothing was wrong. Victor bringing a consultant to meet with Callum was normal. Adrian being polite and friendly was normal. The whole scene was completely ordinary.
So why did her gut tell her otherwise?
She pulled out her laptop, ran through her usual security checks. Everything looked fine. No unusual activity, no red flags.
Through her door, she could hear the men talking. Victor's voice carrying warmth and authority. Adrian asking smart questions. Callum responding with that sharp decisiveness he had in work mode.
Just business. Whatever that entailed.
Around nine, she heard the elevator. Victor and Adrian leaving, their voices fading as the doors closed. Then Callum's footsteps in the hallway, pausing outside her door for a moment before continuing to his room.
Her phone buzzed. Text from her mom.
Thanks for coming today. Love you. Remember what I said about staying true to yourself.
Lennox stared at the message, then at the closed door of her bedroom in a penthouse that cost more than most people saw in a lifetime.
Stay true to yourself.
How is she supposed to tell her mom that she’s contractually unable to do exactly that?