Nesting

Lili’s legs barely held her as she stepped out of the office.

The massive double doors clicked shut behind her with the weight of finality, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her heart was still pounding, not from fear, but from everything. From Cade’s voice like silk over steel. From the way Beckett’s eyes had pinned her like prey. From the sheer gravity of what she had just agreed to.

Ten million dollars.

The number echoed in her skull like a chant, trying to drown out everything else.

The elevator ride down was silent. She didn’t even glance at the mirror this time, she didn’t need to see herself to know what expression she was wearing. Flushed. Bewildered. Aroused. Terrified.

Her heels tapped across the marble as she walked out through the opulent lobby, the receptionist watching her with the same unreadable expression as earlier.

Outside, the sleek black town car waited at the curb, just as it had that morning. As if nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

The driver stepped out as she approached, greeting her with a warm smile and opening the rear door. “Miss Vale,” he greeted warmly. “Shall we return to your apartment to collect your things?”

“Yes, please,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.

She hesitated just a second, glancing back up at the building behind her. Somewhere high above, those two men were still inside. Waiting. Planning.

She turned back to the car.

“Yes,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “Please.”

The driver gave a small nod and held the door. She slid into the back seat, the cool leather a stark contrast to her flushed skin, and the door shut gently behind her.

***

Packing didn’t take long.

Her apartment was small, barely enough for one person, and most of what she owned fit into two battered suitcases. A few clothes, a worn paperback or two, a toothbrush, her mother's old perfume, and a small envelope of final notices and overdue bills she couldn’t leave behind even if she wanted to.

The driver helped carry her bags without a word and placed them gently in the trunk. She gave one last look to the dingy hallway of her building, then followed him down the stairs for the last time.

The drive into the city’s wealthiest district felt like moving through another reality. The buildings grew taller, cleaner, more austere. The cars sleeker. The pedestrians more carefully dressed. And then they pulled into a street lined with pale stone facades and towering hedges that concealed glass-and-steel entrances.

Her jaw dropped slightly as the car rolled to a stop in front of a building she could only describe as palatial.

They stopped in front of a discrete awning above a marble entrance. Two doormen in pressed uniforms stood at attention. The air smelled of money.

The driver exited, rolled her luggage to the front desk inside the elegant, high-ceilinged lobby, the scent of polished wood, fresh orchids, and something clean and expensive washing over her.

The driver gave her name to a waiting staff member and promised to return at 8:30 tomorrow morning before disappearing once again.

“Right this way, Miss Vale. We’ll add your fingerprints and facial profile for access,” the receptionist explained smoothly.

After the scans were complete, he gestured toward the private elevator and called the top floor.

The doors opened onto a hushed, carpeted corridor that stretched wide and opulent, flanked by gleaming sconces and sleek dark paneling. Just three doors lined the space, each one massive, matte-black, and unmarked, like entrances to vaults in a fortress.

It felt like stepping into another world. A world built for the ultra-powerful and temporarily, for her.

“Penthouse Three,” the man said, inserting the card and opening the door with a click. “Your luggage has already been brought up. Welcome to the building. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, stepping inside.

Her luggage sat neatly in the center of a lavish entryway adorned with soft marble, floor-to-ceiling windows, and designer furnishings. Everything smelled faintly of jasmine and money.

She stood there for a moment, unsure if she should step further in.

Tomorrow, her life would become something unrecognizable.

But tonight, she would sleep in luxury, and try not to dream about the brothers who owned it.

She took a tentative step forward, her heels clicking lightly against the marble floor of the foyer. The penthouse was obscene. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the glittering skyline, the lights of the city below like a sea of stars. Every inch of the apartment whispered wealth.

She moved slowly, afraid to touch anything. The furniture looked like it belonged in a showroom, the art on the walls was bold and modern, and the air smelled like expensive candles and fresh linens. She wandered through the sprawling living space, finding everything she could ever need, and more.

The kitchen was sleek and minimalist, filled with top-of-the-line appliances and stocked with fresh, healthy food. Her eyes caught on one of the open cupboards, lined neatly with pre-natal vitamins, pregnancy supplements, and herbal teas labeled for fertility and relaxation. It was a little shocking.

But then again, wasn’t that the plan? She was preparing to get pregnant. Soon.

A home gym sat behind glass doors, pristine and untouched, with a full pink yoga set, light dumbbells, and a row of soft rolled mats. A small corner bookshelf was filled with pregnancy books, from the practical to the sentimental.

She paused there longer than she meant to. Some of the titles looked familiar, not from experience, but from school.

Before everything fell apart, she’d been studying psychology. Junior year. High GPA. She’d been working toward a focus in childhood development. She used to think maybe she'd work with kids, the ones who fell through cracks, who needed someone to see them, like she had.

But then her mom got sick. Fast. She dropped out two semesters from graduation, promising herself she’d return when things calmed down. They never did.

Now she arranged peonies in the back room of a flower shop and lived paycheck to paycheck in an apartment the landlord could claim any week.

And here she was. Staring at a shelf full of baby books in a penthouse she didn’t own, preparing to be bred like livestock for strangers with eyes like storms.

The master bedroom nearly stole her breath. It was so large, it almost felt empty, but the massive bed was made up in layered fleeces and plush cushions, clearly designed for comfort. A reading nook sat in the corner beneath another massive window, draped in velvet.

“This is insane,” she whispered aloud.

It felt like a nest. That was the word for it. A perfect, curated nest. These men had clearly been planning this for a while. She couldn’t help but think how many women must have applied before her. Or maybe she’d been the first to respond to the private request.

Still… they were so attractive. Surely they could have found a woman the normal way. Propose a threesome, charm her into it, no woman would say no to either of them. And yet here this was. This was how they’d chosen to do it.

As her gaze swept across the room, she noticed something strange perched on the edge of the bed, a massive, curved cushion. She walked over to inspect it and found a tag still attached.

Pregnancy Pillow.

There was a small envelope resting atop it with her name printed in neat, masculine handwriting.

Inside, a note from Cade.

Liliana. Please try sleeping with this tonight. It’s important to us that you’re comfortable. —C.

Lili blinked at the letter. This wasn’t just a fantasy setup left to gather dust. Cade, or someone working for him, had been here. Preparing. Anticipating her arrival. That realization settled into her chest like a weight.