25

Sierra’s POV

The morning after the gala, I woke up wrapped in Louis, our limbs tangled, the scent of his skin and my faded perfume mingling on the sheets. Sunlight poured in, bold and confident. A smile touched my lips before I even opened my eyes. We had done it. I had done it.

The memory of the night replayed like a beautiful film—the applause, the weight of his gaze as I spoke, the feel of his hand steady on my back, the way he looked at me when the dress came off. For the first time, I felt like I belonged. Not as an impostor, but as his equal.

He was already awake, propped on an elbow, watching me. His expression was soft, satisfied. “Good morning, Ms. Trevane.”

The name, said like that in the quiet morning, felt like a caress. “Good morning.”

He kissed me, a slow, lazy kiss that promised a day spent in this bed. But the real world, in the form of a five-year-old tornado, had other plans. A door slammed down the hall, followed by the quick patter of feet.

“Mommy! Daddy Louis! The pancakes are flying!”

We laughed into each other’s mouths. The spell broke, but a better one took its place. This was our life. Chaos and love.

Later, after a syrup-drenched breakfast where Katie gave a dramatic retelling of her “adventure” with Aunt Diamond the night before, Louis went to his study to catch up on work. I felt buoyant, light. I scrolled through my phone, seeing my name trending next to words like “grace” and “inspiring.” There were still nasty comments, but they were buried under a wave of positive coverage. I had faced the lions and they had, inexplicably, decided to cheer.

I decided to bring Louis a coffee, a small wifely gesture that made my heart flutter. His study door was ajar. I pushed it open quietly.

He wasn’t at his desk. He was standing by the window, his phone to his ear, his back rigid. His voice was a low, controlled snarl that I had never heard directed at me, but recognized from his dealings with Victor.

“What do you mean, he’s making inquiries? What kind of inquiries?”

A pause. I froze in the doorway, the mug warming my hands.

“Her schedule. Her routines. The child’s school.” Another pause, longer. The air in the room grew cold. “Find him. Today. I don’t care what it costs. And move the pickup time for Katie up by an hour. Use the alternate route.”

He hung up and stood perfectly still, a statue of coiled tension. Then he slammed his hand down on the windowsill so hard I jumped, the coffee sloshing over my hand.

He whirled around, sensing my presence. When he saw me, the fury on his face morphed into something else—guarded fear.

“Sierra.”

“Who was that?” My voice sounded small. The high from last night evaporated, leaving a sick dread in my stomach.

He walked over and took the mug from my trembling hands, setting it aside. He didn’t lie. “Marcus. There’s… a situation.”

“What situation? Who is making inquiries about me? About Katie’s school?” The words came out sharp, maternal panic slicing through me.

He led me to the couch, forcing me to sit. He knelt in front of me, his hands on my knees. “Victor’s former security consultant. A man named Elias Crowe. He’s freelance. He’s… displeased that Victor’s exile cost him a client. He’s sniffing around. It might be nothing. He might just be looking for leverage, for a payoff.”

“A payoff? For what? To leave us alone?” The concept was so ugly, so transactional.

“Maybe. Or he might be gathering information to sell to the highest bidder. Our lives are a commodity now. I’m handling it.”

“You’re handling it by changing Katie’s pickup routine?” I stood up, pacing, the fear turning to anger. “You were just on the phone giving orders! You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin last night. Or this morning.” He stood, his own frustration showing. “I was going to tell you after I had more information.”

“She’s my daughter, Louis! I don’t get the information *after*! I get it the moment you have it!” My voice broke. “I thought it was over. I let myself think it was over.”

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly even as I stiffened. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m used to… containing threats. I’m not used to having a partner to contain them with. Forgive me.”

I let myself lean into him, the solid reality of him, but the carefree joy of the morning was gone. The fortress walls, which had started to feel like home, now felt like what they were again—barriers against a world that wanted to hurt us.

“What do we do?” I asked, my face pressed against his shirt.

“We proceed with caution. We let security do their job. We live our lives, but smarter.” He pulled back, cupping my face. “And we don’t let him steal our peace. That’s what he wants. To make us afraid in our own home. We can’t give him that.”

I nodded, trying to be brave. But the taste of fear was back, bitter on my tongue.

The day passed under a new cloud. I jumped at every unexpected sound. When the security detail took Katie to a previously planned playdate, I watched the car until it disappeared from sight, my heart in my throat.

Louis was on calls all afternoon, his voice a constant, low murmur behind the study door. My phone buzzed. A text from Jasmine.

**Jas:** *Saw the pics from the gala! You looked like a damn queen! So proud of you! When can I see you? Real talk, not fancy party talk.*

I needed her. I needed normal. I texted back.

**Me:** *Can you come here? Today? Things are… tense again.*

An hour later, Jasmine was ushered into the living room by a guard. She took one look at my face and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

“Okay, spill. The tea is not just about post-gala glow.”

We sat, and I told her everything. About Victor’s exile, about the eerie peace, about Elias Crowe. Her face grew more and more serious.

“So the big bad wolf is gone, but a sneaky, smart coyote is circling the yard,” she summarized. “What’s Louis doing?”

“Handling it. Which means more guards, more schedules, more secrets he tries to keep from me to ‘protect’ me.”

Jasmine shook her head. “Sierra, you gotta get in the game. You can’t just be the princess in the tower he protects. You saw how you handled that room last night. You’ve got steel in you. You need to know the playbook. Demand the briefings. Look at the security plans. This is your life too. Your kid’s life.”

She was right. Nia’s words echoed hers. *You must become a fortress too.*

When Louis emerged for dinner, I was waiting. Jasmine had left, after making me promise to be proactive.

“I want a meeting with Marcus,” I said, before he could speak. “Tomorrow morning. I want to see the threat assessment on Elias Crowe. I want to know the protocols for Katie. I want to be involved.”

He looked at me, surprised, then a slow, proud smile spread across his face. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. You’re right. You’re not a liability to be shielded. You’re the other general in this army.” He kissed me, hard and quick. “The briefing is at eight AM. Don’t be late.”

That night, as I lay beside him, the fear was still there. But it was joined by a new resolve. The gala had been my debut into his world.

Tomorrow’s briefing would be my debut into his war.

And I was ready to fight.