Chapter 9 - The Garden on the River
The estate on the East River had changed as well.
The dark, imposing library had been lightened with fresh cream-colored linen drapes, vibrant floral arrangements, and the soft, steady hum of classical music playing from the speakers.
Where there had once been silence and cold intimidation, there was now warmth, laughter, and the quiet, unhurried rhythm of a home that belonged to two people who had survived their own personal wars and found sanctuary in each other.
On a brilliant Sunday afternoon, Catherine stood on the stone terrace overlooking the water, wearing a simple linen sundress, watching the white sails of a sailboat catch the autumn wind.
Nikolai walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of jasmine and rain that always followed her.
"My mother’s birthday charity gala is next month at the Drake," Nikolai noted softly. "The board expects us to host."
Catherine turned slightly within his embrace, resting her hands against his chest.
"Do they expect me to wear emeralds and smile politely while old men tell me how well I manage your household?" she asked, a mischievous spark in her hazel eyes.
"They expect you to terrify them," Nikolai corrected, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Word got out about how you handled the asset freeze on Vale-Henderson. The syndicate elders now refer to you as The Accountant."
"The Accountant," Catherine repeated, tasting the title with quiet satisfaction. "I like it. It sounds much more durable than emotional."
May you like
Nikolai tightened his arms around her, his slate-gray eyes softening as he looked out over the sparkling expanse of the river.
"You were never fragile, Catherine," he murmured into her hair. "You were just waiting for a room big enough to hold you."
