Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The heavy double doors of the penthouse had barely clicked shut before Celine kicked off the pumps Kayden had bought her.

She let out a long, ragged breath, her shoulders sagging as the elegant facade she had maintained all morning completely crumbled. She felt filthy.

The lingering memory of Kayden's lustful gaze and his arrogant assumption that she would gladly trade her surgical career to become a high society incubator made her stomach churn with rage.

"Traditional wife," she scoffed to the empty, luxurious living room, ripping the pins out of her hair and letting the dark locks fall around her shoulders. "An asset. A prize."

Desperate to scrub the day off her skin, Celine walked into the master bathroom and turned the shower dial to steaming hot.

She stood under the heavy spray for nearly thirty minutes, letting the water wash away the expensive scent of the Grand Horizon Club.

When she stepped out, she bypassed the racks of designer outfits and pulled on a set of her own familiar, worn-out gray loungewear.

It was simple, oversized, and completely unpretentious. For the first time all day, she felt like herself.

Sitting on the edge of the plush velvet bed, Celine pulled out her phone. Her mind refused to remain in the dark any longer.

She needed to know exactly what kind of monsters she was dealing with.

Opening a secured browser, she typed the names into the search bar: The Smith Dynasty, Smith Enterprises, Kayden Smith, Darius Smith.

For the next two hours, Celine fell down a rabbit hole of corporate warfare and high society secrets. The data was staggering.

The Smiths practically owned the economic infrastructure of the state, including shipping lines, commercial banking networks, and major real estate portfolios. But beneath the glittering stock profiles lay a brutal, multi-generational blood feud.

Kayden, the eldest, was public relations gold.

He was constantly photographed at charity galas and political fundraisers, positioning himself as the traditional, rightful heir to the matriarch's throne.

Darius, however, was a ghost in the media. There were no public interviews, only terrifying rumors of his cutthroat corporate raids and a legendary, lethal business plan that had saved the company from bankruptcy while he was still in his early twenties.

Suddenly, an unrecognized number flashed across her screen, shattering the silence. Celine’s body tensed instantly. Her breath hitched as she recognized the specific digital prefix.

The loan sharks.

Her fingers trembled as she answered the call, preparing her heart for the usual barrage of vulgar threats and terrifying intimidation regarding her late parents' unsettled debts.

"Hello?" she whispered, her voice tightening.

"Dr. Celine! Dr. Celine, please!" A voice burst through the receiver, but it was not the arrogant threat she was used to.

The man sounded completely breathless, his voice shaking with terror that made Celine freeze. "Please, we are begging you! Tell them we didn't know! We swear on our lives we didn't know you belonged to him!"

Celine blinked, her mind short-circuiting. "What? Who are you talking about? What is going on?"

"The debt is settled! It is completely paid off, plus interest! We destroyed the ledger, we wiped the digital files, everything is gone!" the man stammered, the sound of the noisy background chattering. "Just please tell Mr. Smith to call off his men! We are leaving the state tonight. We will never look at you again, we will never call you, just please mercy"

The line went dead with an abrupt click.

Celine stared at the dark screen, her phone slipping from her hand onto the mattress.

The heavy, suffocating debt that had hunted her for nearly a decade, was gone. Wiped out in an afternoon by a man who did not even ask for her permission.

The sheer magnitude of the day, including Kayden's proposal, the revelation of the Smiths' absolute power, and the sudden, shocking eradication of her deepest financial trauma, finally broke through her reserves.

Exhaustion settled into her bones. She suddenly felt tired.

Celine leaned her head back against the plush pillows, intending to just close her eyes for five minutes to process the news. Within seconds, her breathing slowed and she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For the first time in ten long years, since the night her parents died, she had a full, undisturbed night of rest ahead of her.

Meanwhile, in a private security operations room on the lower levels of the same residential skyscraper, Darius Smith sat in a leather chair, his dark eyes locked onto a high-definition monitor.

The feed was broadcast from a hidden, pinhole camera embedded in the smoke detector of the penthouse master bedroom, a security measure Marcus had insisted upon to ensure her safety from Kayden's potential interference.

At seven-forty-five p.m., L’Étoile was completely empty. Hundreds of thousands of dollars had been spent to clear the venue, and a sea of fresh white lilies sat under candlelit chandeliers, waiting for a guest who was currently fifteen minutes late.

Marcus paced nervously behind Darius's chair, checking his luxury watch. "Sir, the private chauffeur has been waiting at the basement gate for over twenty minutes. Dr. Celine is not responding to our notifications or calls. Should I send a security team up to escort her down? Kayden might have done something stupid."

Darius did not answer. He did not even blink. His piercing, possessive gaze remained fixed entirely on the sleeping girl on the screen.

Through the lens, he watched the gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest in her simple gray loungewear.

He saw the complete absence of tension in her jaw, the way her fingers curled softly against the duvet, and the deep, peace on her face.

Looking at her now, completely safe and finally at peace inside the space he had provided her, a strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in his chest.

"Sir?" Marcus prompted, his voice dropping into a hesitant whisper. "The restaurant reservation... the liquidated damages..."

"Cancel the reservation," Darius spoke softly, his voice low and fiercely protective as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her sleeping form. "Tell the kitchen to pack the menu and leave it at the door. No one disturbs this floor tonight."

Marcus gasped slightly in surprise. "You are not angry, sir? She completely missed the engagement event."

"Look at her, Marcus," Darius murmured, a faint, genuine smile touching the corner of his lips for the first time in years. "That is the first time she has slept without fear in ten years. Let her rest. The world can wait until she wakes up."