Chapter 8 - The Morning After the Empire
The penthouse suite at the top of the Grandon Hotel was a masterclass in minimalist luxury, featuring floor-to-ceiling glass walls that offered a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline bathed in the golden hues of sunrise.
Luna stood by the glass, holding a porcelain cup of black coffee, watching the yellow cabs crawl like ants across the bridges far below.
The door behind her clicked open, and footsteps padded softly across the hardwood floor. Nico walked in wearing a silk bathrobe, holding two fresh croissants on a small silver plate. He set them on the marble island and walked over, stopping a few feet away.
"You haven't slept," Nico observed, his voice smooth and steady in the morning quiet.
"I slept enough," Luna replied without turning around. "Three hours of deep REM sleep is more than enough when your adrenaline is running on pure satisfaction."
Nico chuckled, leaning against the counter beside her. "My son is currently on a Greyhound bus heading north toward Buffalo. His apartment lease has been terminated, his bank accounts frozen pending an internal forensic audit of his expense reports, and his new girlfriend has already applied for a student housing grant at SUNY Buffalo because she realized he has no money left."
Luna took a slow sip of her coffee. "You're ruthless, Nico."
"I am efficient," Nico corrected gently. "And I am protective of what belongs to my inner circle. Liam was a parasite draining resources he didn't earn. You exposed him. The audit you submitted yesterday afternoon proved he was embezzling small amounts from the marketing budget to fund his lifestyle."
Luna turned her head, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. "You knew about the embezzlement before last night?"
"I suspected it," Nico admitted, a faint smile touching his lips. "I needed proof airtight enough to cut him off permanently without triggering a messy family lawsuit. Your audit provided the smoking gun. Walking into that gala with you was simply... the finishing stroke."
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and charged with a new kind of energy. It wasn't the manic rush of revenge anymore; it was the quiet, dangerous thrill of a partnership forged in fire.
"So," Nico said, stepping closer, his storm-gray eyes holding hers. "What happens now, Luna? Do you go back to your office cubicle and pretend you aren't the most talked-about woman in New York?"
Luna set her coffee cup down on the glass ledge. She looked up at him, her chin tilted with defiant pride.
"My office cubicle?" Luna raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Rossi, I just helped you restructure a billion-dollar portfolio and dismantled your son's entire delusion in twenty-four hours. I think my billing rate has gone up."
May you like
Nico laughed—a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the penthouse. He reached out, his warm fingers gently brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from her cheek.
"Name your price, Miss Vane," Nico whispered. "Or better yet... let's become business partners."
