Chapter 9 - The Morning After
The sun rose over the Hudson River, burning away the morning fog and painting the sky in brilliant shades of amber and gold.
Genevieve stood on the stone balcony of the east master suite, a cup of hot black coffee warming her hands. Down below, federal and local police vehicles were finally entering the estate gates, accompanied by unmarked black vans. Captain Harris was among them, stepping out of a cruiser with an expression of grim inevitability as Enzo met him at the steps to hand over a comprehensive file detailing Arthur Pendleton’s treason and his ties to the Genoa cartel.
The nightmare was over. The internal war had been crushed before it could fracture the syndicate.
A soft knock sounded at the balcony door.
Mateo stepped outside, dressed in a fresh charcoal suit, his dark hair combed back, looking as immaculate as he had the night they met in the hotel ballroom.
“Harris is downstairs,” Mateo said quietly, leaning against the stone balustrade beside her. “He has the ledgers, the comms intercepts, and Arthur’s confession. Your statement won't even be necessary. You’re free to leave whenever you wish.”
Genevieve looked at him, taking a slow sip of her coffee. “And my event planning company? Sinclair House Events?”
“I’ve already spoken to your director,” Mateo said smoothly. “Your contract has been bought out, and a substantial compensation package has been deposited into your corporate account for the... inconvenience of last night.”
Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “You bought my company?”
“I secured your future,” Mateo corrected. “You don't need to plan weddings for ungrateful billionaires anymore, Genevieve. Unless, of course, you want to.”
She turned to face him fully, the morning breeze catching her hair. “And if I don't?”
May you like
Mateo stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat radiating from his broad frame. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear—a gesture so tender it contrasted sharply with the dangerous world he inhabited.
“Then you stay here,” Mateo said, his voice dropping into that low, magnetic register. “And we figure out what comes next.”
