Chapter 21 A Reckoning of Fate
Nick Malone
Nick had spent his entire career chasing ghosts. Tracking criminals, dismantling networks, making sure justice caught up to the people who thought they were untouchable. He had lived in the shadows for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to want something for himself.
Until now.
Until Celeste.
She was the one thing that made the chaos worth it. The one person who made him want more than just the next case to solve, the next criminal to track down and put away.
And he’d be damned if he let the ghosts of Juliette Bellerose linger any longer.
Nick stood in Celeste’s office, arms crossed, eyes sharp as Graham spread out the files they had recovered. The last remaining threads of Juliette’s deception were right there—hidden deals, financial discrepancies, blackmail material meant to secure her hold over Celeste’s empire.
“She planned for this,” Graham muttered, flipping through a stack of documents. “Even in death, she wanted to control the board.”
Nick exhaled sharply, rubbing the tension from his jaw. “Too bad she didn’t plan on me.”
Graham shot him a look. “You say that like you’re invincible.”
Nick’s smirk was razor-sharp. “No. Just inevitable.”
Graham rolled his eyes.
Celeste sat across the desk, her fingers gliding over the cool, polished surface of a sleek, silver tablet. The screen flickered to life, lines of encrypted files scrolling in front of her—Juliette’s private server, cracked open like Pandora’s box.
Nick stood behind her, arms crossed, eyes dark with calculation. “You sure you want to do this?”
Celeste didn’t hesitate. “She built her empire on leverage. On blackmail.” Her finger hovered over a folder labeled ‘CONFIDENTIAL – CONTROL’ before tapping it open.
A cascade of files populated the screen—hidden offshore accounts, bribes traced to high-profile investors, personal correspondences with figures Celeste hadn’t even realized Juliette had under her thumb.
“She didn’t just keep records,” Celeste murmured. “She built an insurance policy.” Celeste scrolled through names. “Every deal. Every payoff. Every threat she never planned to let go of.”
Nick skimmed the damning evidence over her shoulder. “This isn’t just leverage—this is a kill switch.”
Celeste exhaled slowly, her pulse steady, determined. Then, without hesitation, she selected the files, her finger hovering over one last option.
DELETE PERMANENTLY
She tapped the button.
The screen blinked once. Then—gone.
Juliette’s reign didn’t end with a scandal. It ended with silence.
Nick leaned forward, his hand covering hers—not to restrain, not to guide, but to remind her she wasn’t alone. His touch was solid, grounding. “You’re in control now. She can’t touch you anymore.”
Celeste’s breath was steady, but her pulse thundered in her ears. This wasn’t just about Juliette. It was about every damn time someone tried to own her, manipulate her, push her aside like she was nothing. That ended today.
She lifted her chin, locking onto Nick’s gaze, the fire in her eyes a perfect match to his. “She spent her life trying to make me a pawn in her game and she lost.”
Nick’s lips curled at the edge, but there was something more behind it—pride. Admiration. A dangerous satisfaction.
Celeste’s voice like steel. “Let’s burn the last of her empire to the ground.”
A beat of silence.
Then—Nick smirked. Dark. Lethal. Approving.
“Now we’re talking.”
***
By noon, Celeste took her seat at the head of the conference table, her posture flawless, unshakable. Across from her sat the final remnants of Juliette’s empire—men and women who had once whispered behind closed doors, waiting to see which way the power shifted.
Nick stood behind her like a guardian of the throne, arms crossed, a wall of muscle, steel, and silent authority. His holstered gun caught the light, a not-so-subtle reminder that loyalty wasn’t optional.
The room silent and waiting.
Celeste let them sweat.
She traced a perfectly manicured nail over the polished wood, drawing out the silence, stretching it until their discomfort was becoming increasingly obvious. Then, without so much as glancing up, she slid the tablet across the table.
It stopped in front of Harold Castille, the CFO.
He stared at it.
Recognized it.
And went deathly pale.
Celeste’s lips curled, slow and deliberate.
“That,” she said smoothly, “is every dirty little secret Juliette held over you. Every deal. Every payoff. Every backroom betrayal.” She tilted her head, watching as their faces twisted in unease.
“I thought it was only fair you see exactly how much leverage you no longer have.”
A ripple of tension spread through the room.
Harold swallowed hard. “Ms. Bellerose, I—”
Celeste held up a single finger. He shut up.
“I’m giving you a choice,” she continued, her voice calm, collected—lethal.
“You work for me now. Not Juliette. You earn an honest living with nothing being held over your head, help me build this organization into the most admired fashion company it deserves, or you leave right now, blackballed from our industry for life. Which will it be?”
No one moved.
Not a single breath dared to challenge her.
Nick’s smirk was pure menace. “Smart choice.”
Celeste leaned back, her throne reclaimed, her empire no longer in question.
“Then shall we get started?”
***
That night, as the city pulsed beyond the windows of Celeste’s penthouse, Nick sat on the couch, flipping through the last pieces of Juliette’s web. Graham had run numbers, checked accounts, tracked the final trails of her reach.
“We’re clean,” Graham confirmed over the phone. “Every loose end is either tied up or dead and buried so deep, no one will ever find it.”
Nick exhaled. “Good. Keep eyes on any movements in the financial sector. If anyone tries to pick up where Juliette left off, I want to know before they take their first damn breath.”
“10-4.”
Nick ended the call and turned toward Celeste.
She stood near the window, staring out over the city, her arms crossed, the silk of her blouse barely concealing her breasts beneath. The battle was over, but the fire in her eyes? That hadn’t burned out.
Nick crossed the room in three strides, his presence swallowing the space between them. Before she could react, his hands found her hips, gripping tight, pulling her flush against him.
Celeste let out a breath, but it wasn’t soft. It was sharp, laced with something hotter than relief.
“It’s finally over,” she murmured.
Nick pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, his voice dark and edged with promise. “Almost.”
She tilted her head back, her gaze locked onto his, suspicion evident beneath the desire. “What do you mean… almost?”
Nick’s phone buzzed. His fingers tightened on her waist as he pulled it out, glancing at the screen. A single message.
Attachment received: Juliette Bellerose—"Final Recording”
His stomach coiled.
Celeste caught the change in his expression instantly. “What is it?”
Nick exhaled slowly, the grip on her tightening. “Juliette’s last words.”
Celeste’s pulse kicked up. Something dark and unshaken crossed her features. “Play it.”
Nick hit the audio file.
Juliette’s voice crackled to life, smooth, taunting, laced with venom.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have a contingency plan, dear sister?”
Celeste’s breath caught.
Nick’s free hand sliding down to grip the curve of her ass, grounding himself in the only real thing left in this fight—her.
Juliette laughed softly through the recording. “Enjoy your victory while it lasts, Celeste. Because this? This isn’t over.”
Silence.
Then, the line went dead.
Nick looked down at Celeste.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. If anything, she looked pissed. A slow, lethal smile tugged at her lips.
“Burn it.”
Nick’s smirk was pure sin. “With pleasure.”
His phone hit the nightstand with a dull thunk.
Celeste opened her mouth, but before she could get another word out, Nick spun her, pressing her back against the cool window, his hands caging her in on either side.
She arched a brow, tilting her chin up. “You planning on celebrating or making me beg, Officer?”
Nick’s eyes darkened. His fingers trailed up her thigh, slow, teasing. “Can’t a man do both?”
Celeste let out a breathless laugh, her body already heating beneath his touch. “Cocky.”
Nick dipped his head, his lips hovering just over hers. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”
And then, he kissed her.
Hard. Deep. Possessive.
Nick’s hands tightened on her hips, his grip firm, possessive. Celeste’s breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her ass through the silk of her skirt.
She smirked, voice teasing. “You gonna just stand there all night, Officer?”
Nick let out a low, wicked chuckle. “Keep pushing, princess. See where it gets you.”
Her pulse pounded as he forced her backwards, hitting the cool glass once more. His knee wedged between her thighs, spreading them just enough to make her body scream for more.
Celeste gasped. “Nick—”
His lips grazed her cheek, his breath hot against her skin. “Tell me what you need, want.”
She arched against him, nails scraping down his forearms. “You.”
His chuckle was dark. Sinful. “Damn right.”
Nick reached between them, gripping the hem of her blouse and pulling it over her head in one swift move. He wasted no time, palming her bare breast, his thumb circling her hardened nipple, teasing her to the point of madness.
Celeste let out a soft curse, her head falling back against the glass. “Nick—”
He bit down on her collarbone, just enough to make her gasp. “I told you,” he murmured, voice thick with command. “I don’t ask first, princess, I take.”
And then, he did.
Nick tore away the last of the fabric between them, his mouth claiming hers in a bruising, dominant kiss that left no room for argument. He turned her in his grip, pressing her palms flat against the glass, his body pinning her in place. All for NYC to see.
Celeste moaned as his fingers skimmed down her stomach, dipping lower, teasing her where she was already aching for him.
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Tell me who did that to you.”
She swallowed, her body trembling in anticipation. “You know damn well.”
Nick’s smirk was pure arrogance. He curled his fingers inside her, a slow, agonizing stroke that made her knees buckle.
“Say it,” he demanded.
Celeste gasped, her cheek pressing against the cold glass. “You, Nick. Always you.”
His breath turned ragged. “And don’t you ever forget it!”
Nick flipped her around, lifting her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist. The heat of his body pressed against hers, his length sliding against her core, teasing, testing her patience.
“Take me,” she whispered, voice raw. “Now.”
Nick didn’t make her beg… for long.
He slammed into her in one hard thrust, her back arching against the glass as pleasure exploded through her veins.
Celeste clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he moved, relentless, punishing, claiming her in a way that left no question—she was his, and he was never letting her go.
Their bodies tangled, the heat between them unbearable. Nick gritted his teeth, gripping her hips tighter, his thrusts growing deeper, rougher, his dominance undeniable.
“Mine,” he growled against her throat.
Celeste moaned, her head falling back as she shattered around him, pleasure slamming through her in waves.
Nick followed a heartbeat later, his groan vibrating against her skin as he emptied himself inside her, his hold on her unbreakable.
They stayed there, breathless, tangled, their bodies still pressed together.
Nick brushed his lips against her temple, a slow, lingering touch that sent another shiver down her spine.
Celeste let out a shaky breath. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Nick smirked. “Nah, princess. I’m the one keeping you alive, remember?”
He kissed her again—deep, lingering, a promise.
Nick brushed a lazy hand over Celeste’s bare thigh, the heat of their last encounter still burning in his veins. She curled into his side, her breathing slowing, the tension in her body finally unwinding.
Celeste looked at peace.
But Nick knew better. The battle was over, but the war? That had left scars.
Celeste sighed, fingers tracing idle circles against his chest. “It’s finally done.”
Nick’s grip tightened around her waist. “Almost.”
She stilled. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Nick meets her gaze.
“Juliette’s father just reached out.”
Celeste’s breath hitched.
Nick watched the war return to her eyes—the past, the pain, the questions she never let herself ask.
She swallowed hard. “What does he want?”
Nick’s voice was low, certain. “Closure.”