LOGINNovaOne Tuesday, I managed to ditch an Amelia-mandated lunch to actually meet up with Vera. We grabbed a quick coffee near the financial district, and I desperately needed the reality check."So, you're officially Mrs. I-Own-New-York now," Vera said, taking a sip of her latte and looking utterly unimpressed by the tall, intimidating glass buildings surrounding us. "Are the golden handcuffs comfortable?""They're mostly just cold," I admitted, looking down. "He's gone all the time, Vera. He’s buried under work, and honestly, the only person I think he talks to is his assistant. And Tanya."I told her about the two a.m. call, keeping my voice low. Her eyebrows shot up. "Girl, that's not a corporate crisis. That's a 'cover your tracks' call. Tanya is clearly still pulling strings.""I don't know," I sighed. "I want to trust him. We made a promise on the island.""Promises are cheap when you're wearing swimwear," Vera snorted. "But secrets? Secrets are a full-time commitment."We finishe
"Isn't Tanya wonderful?" Elara chirped beside me, completely unaware of the damage she was doing. "She's been a rock for Killian during all this board craziness. She's his oldest friend. I keep telling Killian he needs a woman who understands him the way she does."Elara's words confirmed everything I was watching. Tanya was back in her spot, and Killian was letting her be there. My grand sacrifice and the island intimacy meant nothing against years of established, blind loyalty.I forced a tight smile. "She certainly is devoted."Two weeks passed, then three, then almost a full month, and it all blurred into a routine of intense isolation, even though we were technically married. Killian was completely consumed. I'm talking about a level of work addiction that would make most CEOs look like they were on extended vacation.He’d be gone before the city was even buzzing, sometimes not even there for coffee. I’d wake up to the cold side of the bed, the linens already pulled back, and the
She was giving me a critical briefing on the immediate social enemy."Your mother's medical security, of course, will be fully accommodated under the new terms, which now reflect Killian's absolute financial commitment to you no matter the outcome of this marriage," she stated. "That is non-negotiable."It was the ultimate security blanket, a guarantee that my mother was safe, regardless of what the New York chaos did to me."Thank you, Camille," I replied, feeling genuine gratitude.She then looked at Killian, her tone shifting slightly to command. "I have secured a larger, more suitable house for your return. The transfer happens tomorrow. You will be living there immediately. I expect you both to present a unified front against any social maneuvers that are coming."She offered no personal counsel, just warmth, precision, clarity, and the direction of a powerful ally.She stood up. "You’ll be leaving Aretusa in forty-eight hours. Enjoy your last days of peace. You won’t have anoth
I knew he meant the real story, the one I’d always deflected. The one that was linked to my mother's illness and my deepest fear.I took a deep breath. "It wasn't like the granola, Killian. That was just the dumb trigger. The first time I had a serious reaction, I was maybe twelve? It was terrifying. I was going to school and having breakfast. Mom made me a peanut butter sandwich. It… all I remember was biting into it, and it got stuck in my throat. I ran to find Mom, but I didn't make it to our room. I passed out in the living room. I remember I couldn't breathe, and I started scratching my throat. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. That's when we found out." “As I got older, it happened again because a classmate thought I was faking it, and I almost died in the cafeteria after that. I became paranoid and cautious. Started double-checking everything. Stopped eating out. That's when I met Vera, and she understood after Mom got really sick and the bills started coming."I stared
The pain was immediate, clean, and blinding. The sight of the blood, dark and fast, was an instant shot of adrenaline that cut through the haze."Call him," I whispered, pressing a towel to the wound, already dizzy. "You have to call him."I stumbled to my phone and dialed 911. I knew the paramedics would find me. I just needed the emergency system to initiate the call to Killian.The paramedics were fast. They stabilized me, bandaged the wound, and started asking questions. I gave them Killian’s name, his private mobile number, and my insistence that he was the only person with my medical history. The doctor at the hospital, a kind, tired woman, promised she would try the emergency contact number immediately.I waited in the sterile white room, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm of hope and despair. The doctor returned twenty minutes later. Her face was sympathetic, but she shook her head."I am so sorry, dear," she said gently. "The number you provided is completely unreachable. It'
"Sorry," he murmured, but his voice was more of a sigh than an apology."It's fine," I said, my voice husky. I didn't pull my hand back immediately. The connection felt necessary, a silent confirmation of the night before.He held my gaze for a long moment, then released my hand and gave me the cinnamon. The simple exchange felt like an entire conversation.We finally sat down at the small, sunny breakfast nook, not the massive glass table reserved for the "strategy." We piled our plates high with golden French toast, fresh berries, and strong coffee. It was the most peaceful meal I had ever had with him."You're not going to try to talk about the contract, are you?" I asked, looking down at my plate."No," he said simply. "The contract is background noise now. I realized something last night. If you had died on that floor, the company and the contract wouldn't have mattered. My failure would have been total."He looked at me with open, honest vulnerability. "My life has been structur







