Chapter 2 - The Phantom in the ShadowsInside the bulletproof privacy of Matteo’s matte-black Maybach, the city lights blurred into streaks of amber and neon. Luca Bianchi sat quietly in the front passenger seat, his tablet glowing softly, while Matteo sat beside me, loosening his tie with a slow, methodical movement.
I stared at my hands, still trembling inside the ninety-dollar sleeves of my thrift-store dress.
"Why?" I finally blurted out, the tension snapping inside me. "Why did you do that? I don't know you. I’ve never even spoken to you before tonight. If this is some sick billionaire game or a power play against the Laurent family—"
"Look at me, Ayla," Matteo interrupted.
I turned. His dark, piercing eyes held no mockery, no cold calculation—only an intensity that made my breath catch.
"You think I picked you out of a hat?" Matteo asked quietly.
"Did you?"
"Six weeks ago, you stayed until three in the morning in a freezing office on West 34th Street," Matteo said, leaning closer. "You rewrote the entire supply-chain architecture for the Kensington account after your firm’s senior partners completely botched it. Jean Dubois took the credit and put his name on the brief. You didn't complain. You just packed your bag, took the subway home, and fed your stray cat."
My jaw dropped. "How... how could you possibly know that?"
"Because I was the client, Ayla," Matteo said, a faint, almost imperceptible ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I’m the one who bought Kensington. And I’ve been watching Dubois & Laurent bleed talent ever since. Tonight, I watched a room full of talentless parasites try to break someone who built half their empire. I simply decided to stop watching."
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"That doesn't make us married," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"It does now," Matteo replied, his phone vibrating against the leather seat. He glanced at the screen, where a dozen missed calls from Jean Dubois and Richard Laurent were already flashing red. "And trust me, Ayla... the fun is only just beginning."
