NINE

NIKOLAI'S POV:

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Voss estate, casting a soft golden hue over the marble floors. I stood by the grand window in my study, a mug of black coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other, scrolling through the morning headlines.

Most had been scrubbed clean, just like I ordered. Any trace of Kate's photo from the mall was gone, erased like chalk off a slate.

I had made good on my promise not for her, but for my name. The Voss name had weight, and it was my duty to ensure it remained untarnished.

I took a long sip of the bitter coffee and exhaled.

She hadn’t acknowledged me again. Not yesterday. Not this morning. It was unsettling.

Kate had walked right past me last night without even a glance. No hesitation. No pause. As if I were the maid polishing the chandelier or the statue in the hallway.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did. It bothered me to my very core.

The intercom buzzed.

"Sir?" It was Della.

I pressed the button. "Yes, Della?"

"The kitchen staff are asking about breakfast instructions. Shall I send them up?"

"No. I’ll come down."

I placed the mug on the windowsill and straightened the cuffs of my shirt. The navy button up fit snugly, tailored perfectly to my form. My phone buzzed again a reminder about the Milan contract, it has finally be concluded. We needed to start the main Business. That was today’s priority.

But first, I had to make an announcement.

Downstairs, the smell of freshly baked pastries and brewed coffee filled the air. I found Della already organizing the staff. Five of them stood in attention the head chef, two housemaids, the butler, and the gardener who had just stepped in.

Della noticed me and gestured.

"Mr. Voss," she said, her tone respectful but familiar. She was one of the few people I trusted.

I nodded to the staff and cleared my throat. "My relatives will be coming tomorrow evening for dinner.

They’ll arrive around six. My aunt, my cousins, and a few others. They missed the wedding due to an emergency abroad. They’re coming to pay their respects. So I need everything to be perfect and to go as planned, Understood?" I said and they all nodded.

A brief pause, then Della nodded, jotting it into her planner. "How many are we expecting, sir?"

Ever since Ma and Pa died, I really wasn't close to their extended family again. We've been in contact through out the years but I didn't exactly trust them.

And I only considered Della as true family.

"Just ten guest."

The chef raised his hand. "Do they have any dietary preferences, any allergies or signature course meal, sir?"

"Not particularly. Prepare a formal three course meal. Have both red and white wine available. The Voss Reserve from 2018 for the red. Chateau Saint Michel for the white."

"Yes, sir."

I turned to Della. "Make sure Kate is informed. She’ll be joining us for dinner. And prep her about everything she needs to know."

Della blinked, then nodded. "Of course, I'll inform Mrs. Voss once she comes down."

I noticed the brief hesitation, but chose not to address it. My phone buzzed again.

"That’ll be all, you can go back to your respective duties. Thank you."

They dispersed quietly, leaving just Della and me in the foyer.

"She’s been settling in," Della said gently.

I said nothing.

"She went shopping yesterday. I assumed you knew."

"I did."

"She used your car. The black one, I had assigned for her to use it." I knew what Della was up to, she was trying to play matchmaker. But I won't fall for any of her plots.

"She won’t again. I’ll have another assigned to her, or just get her a new one entirely."

Della placed a hand on her hip, her eyes studying me. "You know, the silence between you two is loud, the staffs can read the room too. And I don't want them to be throwing off rumors around because of you two."

I met her gaze. "And you want me to do what? Hold her hand and play happy husband? And if rumors are been spread, I'll get to the root of it and fire everyone involved."

"I want you to stop treating her like a stranger. It wasn’t her idea, you know. She was trying to help her sister, she's a victim just like you."

I laughed "Wasn’t it? I don't care about her, Della. And I'm certainly not going to play perfect couple with her. Her father has my company sitting in the palms of his hands, and can destroy me at any moment."

"So, excuse me if I don't want to play house with his daughter. They'll all pay for what they did. Everyone of them will have their fair share."

Della shook her head, exasperated. "You don't know the full story. Maybe you should try finding it out before you punish her for existing. Don't put the blame on her at all, she was trying to help her family. Maybe you should just hear her side and then judge."

I turned away. I love Della so much, and I didn't want this matter to escalate and turn into something else.

"I’ll be back before dinner," I said, walking out.

------------

At the office, I barely acknowledged the greetings as I walked into the boardroom. My assistant, Jeremy, followed closely behind, placing the Milan contract documents in front of me. I signed all of them, pushed them aside and asked for it to be filed for safe keeping.

"We received the full draft from the Italian side. I took the liberty of marking their revisions in red."

I skimmed through them quickly, making mental notes. The Milan deal would be one of the biggest expansions in Europe. Fashion. Real estate. Marketing. All rolled into one.

"Set up a video conference with their legal team for noon," I ordered. "I want every clause negotiated and locked by the end of the day. It's not just about getting the deal, we have more work to do moving on."

Lucas nodded. "Yes, sir."

"The boardroom is ready, sir. And the documents for the wine merger are in front of your seat." Jeremy said, following my pace. I think of him as the younger version of me. He's a quick learner and knows how to prioritize his job first.

The board meeting began shortly after. A proposal for a new wine company collaboration was on the table. I leaned back in my chair, listening to the presentation. Numbers, market forecasts, competitive analysis all rattled off with precision.

"Thank you, Lana."

He entered the conference room with his usual cold authority. The directors straightened in their seats as he took his place at the head of the table. The walls were floor to ceiling glass, offering a sweeping view of the city skyline.

"Let’s begin," he said.

For the next hour, they dissected the financials, projections, and logistics of merging with Château Virelle Wines a company with an old money legacy and a fierce reputation in France. And plus it's family owned.

"We’d gain full access to their vineyards in Bordeaux and Tuscany," one director pointed out.

"And that would streamline our import chains," another added.

I listened carefully, eyes narrowed, fingers steepled under his chin. Finally, I spoke.

"I want their CEO or family head running the business in my office by next week. No virtual meetings. I want to read his body language before we sign anything. I dont plan on going over to them again."

The room nodded in agreement. When the meeting ended, I didn’t linger. I returned to my office, fired off a few more calls, and ensured all plans for my relatives’ visit were being handled to perfection.

But my mind kept flicking back to Kate.

Her silence.

Her eyes not even flickering in my direction.

Something about it gnawed at me.

---

Evening arrived quicker than I expected. I drove back home myself, needing the solitude. The gates of the estate opened to let me through, and I saw her immediately.

Kate.

She was in the garden, dressed in a soft blue sundress, kneeling by the rose bushes. She had gloves on, dirt smeared on her forearm. A gentle breeze played with the tendrils of her hair.

She needed to be out of the garden and dressed up, because my folks will be over in less than two hours.

The thought of coming home everyday to see Kate tending to her garden did something inside of me. Something I couldn't quite understand yet.

I slowed the car.

She looked serene. So unlike the quiet, dutiful woman she was trying to be.

I watched for a moment.

She didn’t even glance up. She knew I was there. But she didn't glance up to satisfy her curiosity.

I pulled the car into the garage and stepped out.

Inside the house, Della met me at the door, making sure everything was in order and there was no mistake.

"They delivered the wine. It’s been stored. The table has been set for ten."

"What’s for dinner Della?"

"Duck confit, seared scallops, and herbed mashed potatoes. Dessert is white chocolate mousse."

"Fine. I’m going up to shower."

I turned without another word and headed to my room, still haunted by the image of her in the garden.