Chapter 8 - Ashes of the PastThe following afternoon, the storm clouds cleared, bathing the forty-second-floor office in a clean, golden autumn sunlight. Workers were already busy replacing the massive glass windows, the rhythmic hum of drills echoing distantly through the core.
Nina sat at the edge of the leather sofa, wearing a simple black sweater and jeans, sipping a cup of black coffee. Her hands were steady now. The terror of the previous night had burned away, leaving behind something sharper, clearer, and infinitely more dangerous.
The mahogany desk was clear of ledgers. In their place sat a single, sleek manila envelope stamped with the federal seal of the U.S. Attorney’s Office.
Sebastian walked out of his private office wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the lean, corded muscle beneath. A white bandage was taped neatly over his left shoulder.
He stopped in front of her, resting his hands in his pockets.
“The federal indictments came through an hour ago,” Sebastian said quietly. “Whitmore’s assets are fully seized. The West Side housing trust is funded in perpetuity. Your mother’s medical care is locked in with a five-year prepaid grant at Mercy General.”
Nina looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. The overwhelming relief she felt was almost physical. She set her coffee cup down and stood up, facing him eye-to-eye.
“And you?” Nina asked softly. “What happens to the king of the West Side now that his war is over?”
Sebastian’s dark eyes softened just a fraction, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips. “I spent ten years building a fortress to keep the world out, Nina. I thought isolation was the only way to survive.” He glanced down as Cerberus padded over, leaning his heavy head against Nina’s ankle with a soft sigh. “It turns out I just needed the right company.”
Nina felt a warm flush creep up her neck. “You realize, of course, that I’m not going back to serving bourbon at The Serpent Room.”
“Never suggested you would,” Sebastian replied smoothly, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating off him. “I need a Chief of Operations. Someone smart, fearless, incorruptible, and completely unimpressed by my reputation.”
Nina raised an eyebrow, a challenging glint flashing in her green eyes. “And the salary?”
“Name your number,” Sebastian murmured, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
Before Nina could answer, the office doors swung open, and Marcus—looking profoundly out of place in a brand-new suit—stepped into the room holding a clipboard, blinking nervously.
“Mr. Crowe? Ms. Harper?” Marcus squeaked, sweating profusely. “The… the board of directors is downstairs for the emergency restructuring meeting. Do you want me to tell them you’re busy?”
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Sebastian didn’t break eye contact with Nina. A slow, lethal, incredibly handsome grin spread across his face.
“Tell them,” Sebastian said without turning around, “that the new management is on their way.”
