Chapter 5: The Black T-Shirt & The Storm

Over the next forty days, Nova and Cyrus went on the biggest shopping spree the country had ever seen.

Using five rented warehouses by the train station so nobody would see how her magic ring worked, Nova spent hundreds of millions of dollars every single week.

She bought twenty thousand tons of white rice, flour, noodles, and cooking oil. She bought out an entire meat factory—filling her magic warehouse with fifty thousand boxes of A5 Wagyu steak, pork ribs, chicken wings, lamb chops, and fresh lobsters.

She even bought ten whole trucks of strawberry cake, hot chocolate, ice cream, potato chips, and milk tea from the best shops in the city—and because time stood still inside her ring space, the hot food stayed steaming hot and the ice cream never melted!

Every night after the truck drivers went home, Nova would walk into the rented warehouses alone, wave her little hand, and whoosh—empty the whole building into her ring in thirty seconds flat.

Meanwhile, back in the city, Luke, Bella, and Walter were living in a total nightmare.

Just like Nova knew it would, Silver Creek Hill washed away in a giant mudslide five days after Luke bought it! There were zero diamonds—just mud and rocks. Worse, when they ran home to the mansion to get their gold bars to pay back Boss Razor’s fifty-million-dollar loan, they found their house completely empty down to the floorboards!

Boss Razor’s men beat Luke until he lost two front teeth, took Walter’s company away, and kicked all three of them out into the street. They had to rent a tiny, smelly basement room in the poor part of town, eating cheap dry bread while screaming Nova’s name in rage.

By Day 50, only ten days before the Red Rain, Jett Frost and his crew finished building Ocean-Cliff Fortress.

It looked like a giant steel castle by the sea. Thirty-foot black steel walls topped with electric wires blocked the only road in. Inside the walls sat heated greenhouses full of vegetables, solar power towers, underground fuel tanks, and the remodeled stone villa with thick bulletproof windows.

That afternoon, right after Jett and his workers drove back to the city with big bonus checks and trunks full of canned food Nova gave them as a warning gift, a massive black thunderstorm rolled in off the ocean.

While checking the latch on the greenhouse door with Cyrus, a huge gust of wind blew rain sideways, soaking Nova from head to toe.

"Get inside before you catch a cold," Cyrus ordered, picking her up in his arms like she weighed nothing and carrying her straight into the warm villa.

Twenty minutes later, after taking a long, hot shower in the upstairs bathroom, Nova realized all her clean clothes were still packed away inside her magic space—except for the clothes sitting on the laundry chair.

Thinking nothing of it, Nova pulled on one of Cyrus’s clean, oversized black t-shirts.

Because Cyrus was so tall and wide, his shirt hung down to the tops of her knees like a short dress, leaving her long legs bare and one small white shoulder peeking out of the wide collar.

Nova towel-dried her hair and stepped out into the warm master bedroom.

Cyrus was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed in gray sweatpants, wiping down his combat knife with a cloth.

The second he looked up and saw Nova standing there in his black shirt, his hands froze completely.

The room went dead quiet except for the heavy rain beating against the bulletproof glass.

Cyrus’s dark eyes traveled slowly from her bare toes, up her smooth legs, all the way to his loose collar slipping off her shoulder. The scar across his jaw twitched, and his knuckles turned white on the handle of the knife.

"You shouldn't wear my shirt around me like that, Nova," Cyrus said, his voice dangerously low and rough. He stood up slowly, looking so tall and wide that he blocked out the warm lamp light. "I've been trying really hard for fifty days to be a gentleman."

Nova’s heart did a wild flip in her chest, making her stomach feel warm and fluttery.

She looked at the man who had died for her in the snow in her last life, and who had spent the last fifty days building her a castle and guarding her door every night. She didn't want him to hold back anymore.

Instead of running away, Nova walked right up to him and placed her small, warm hand flat against his bare chest. Right under her palm, his heart was hammering like crazy.

"Who asked you to be a gentleman, Cyrus?" Nova whispered, looking straight up into his burning dark eyes.

Something dark and hot snapped inside Cyrus’s eyes.

With a low groan, he tossed the cloth onto the table, wrapped one huge arm around her waist, and pulled her flush against his hard, hot body. Before Nova could even catch her breath, his other hand cupped the back of her neck, tilting her chin up as his mouth came crashing down on hers.

Nova gasped against his lips, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly off her feet.

Without breaking the deep, hungry kiss for even a second, Cyrus sat her down on the edge of the wooden dresser so she was eye-level with him, stepping right between her knees and pressing her close against his chest.

His rough, warm hands slid from her waist up her ribs under the loose hem of his shirt, making Nova shiver from head to toe and let out a soft sound against his mouth. His lips left hers to trail hot, lingering kisses down her jawline to the soft hollow of her throat.

"You have no idea what you do to me, princess," Cyrus breathed against her skin, his deep voice shaking with three years of longing as he rested his forehead against hers. "Tell me to stop right now, Nova. Because if you don't... I won't let you sleep at all tonight."

Nova wrapped her arms tight around his broad shoulders and pulled him back down.

"Don't stop," she whispered against his lips.

Cyrus’s last bit of control vanished. With a fierce growl, he scooped Nova up into his strong arms, carried her over to the soft, warm bed, and kicked the bedroom door shut behind them—holding her close through the long, passionate night while the storm raged outside their unbreakable fortress.

And miles away in the dark city, the very first patient at Central Hospital coughed up dark red blood as the final ten-day countdown to the apocalypse began.