Chapter 10 - The Sovereign and the Secretary
Six months later.
The high-security archive beneath the Beluchcci Tower looked entirely different.
The cold fluorescent lighting had been replaced by warm, recessed amber lamps. The smell of hydraulic fluid was gone, replaced by the scent of fresh white lilies and polished mahogany. A plush Persian rug covered the center of the stone floor, and a comfortable leather sofa sat beside the rows of historical archives.
Yet the massive black safe remained, its twelve-inch steel door standing open.
Norah Witman sat at the central mahogany desk, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses as she reviewed a thick stack of corporate merger contracts. She wore a sharp, tailored ivory pantsuit, a diamond pen dancing effortlessly between her fingers as she highlighted clauses with ruthless precision.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Damian stepped inside, carrying two cups of artisan coffee from the Italian bistro on 4th Street. He wore a crisp navy suit, moving with the fluid, powerful grace of a man who had fully recovered from his wounds.
"You’re working late, Miss Witman," Damian murmured, setting a cup down beside her papers. "Again."
Norah looked up through her lashes, a playful smile touching her lips. "Someone has to fix the tax allocations for the London acquisition, Mr. Beluchcci. If I leave it to your legal department, we’ll be audited by three separate governments before Christmas."
"We own the governments, Norah," Damian said, coming around the desk to stand behind her leather chair.
"That doesn't mean we should be sloppy," she shot back, leaning back against his chest as his hands came down to gently massage her shoulders.
Damian leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, just beneath her ear. A shiver ran through Norah, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into his touch.
"Have you looked inside the safe today?" Damian whispered against her skin.
Norah frowned slightly, opening her eyes. "Why? Did you put another nineteenth-century ledger in there?"
"Go look."
Norah set her pen down, rose from her chair, and walked across the Persian rug toward the massive steel safe.
The top shelf was empty of weapons. The flash drives were gone.
Sitting on the middle shelf, illuminated by a warm spotlight, was a small, velvet-lined box of dark emerald leather.
Norah’s breath hitched. She turned to look at Damian.
He had followed her across the room, stopping just two feet away. He reached into the safe, picked up the box, and dropped down onto one knee before her on the stone floor.
Norah’s hand flew to her mouth. "Damian..."
He opened the box.
Inside rested a flawless, five-carat emerald-cut diamond, flanked by two trillion-cut sapphires, set in a band of platinum engraved with the ancient crest of an owl and a crossed sword.
"For eighteen months, you kept my life from falling apart," Damian said, his voice deep, steady, and filled with an emotion so profound it brought tears to her eyes. "You gave me order when I had only chaos. You gave me courage when I thought I was invincible. And you gave me a future when I thought I was doomed to die in blood."
He took her trembling left hand in his, his thumb tracing the soft skin of her knuckles.
"You are the queen of this empire, Norah. But more than that... you are the keeper of my heart. Will you marry me?"
Norah looked at the ring, then looked into the dark slate eyes of the man who had taken a bullet for her, who had rebuilt his entire world just to make a safe place for her to stand beside him.
She smiled, the tears spilling over her lashes, radiant and triumphant.
"Only on one condition," she whispered.
Damian chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling. "Name it."
"I keep my salary. And I still get final approval on all your schedules."
Damian laughed—a loud, joyful, unburdened sound that echoed off the steel walls of the vault. He slipped the ring onto her finger; it was a perfect fit.
He surged to his feet, sweeping her into his arms, lifting her off the ground as his mouth captured hers in a deep, passionate, breathtaking kiss. Norah wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, kissing him with all the love and devotion that had blossomed from the shadows into the light.
When he finally set her down, his forehead rested against hers, both of them breathless and smiling.
Behind them, the heavy door of the most secure safe in the world slowly swung shut, its bolts clicking home with a soft, final chime.
May you like
It was no longer needed to hide secrets.
Because the greatest treasure of the Beluchcci clan was no longer locked away behind cold steel—she was standing in the light, ruling the empire by his side.
