22. Nicolai
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NICOLAI
“Your authority does matter, Luna,” I say, meeting her gaze.
“It’s the reason I suggested this to you.
I wanted my message to be loud and clear that nothing in this house is untouchable.
Not Laurent’s kitchen, not our suppliers, and certainly not me.
If I step in, it’s because I see a weakness.
And weaknesses, no matter how small, don’t go unnoticed. They get exploited.”
There’s a passion in her gaze, and I can feel the magnitude of her challenge. I know Luna has this fire in her, it’s one of the reasons I admire her, but seeing it turned on me is something else entirely.
“And what about trust?” She demands, refusing to back down. “If you want me in this role, let me earn it. You can’t keep stepping in and cutting me off before I can prove myself.”
I watch her, the slight lift of her chin, the way her shoulders stay back even with all of the tension between us. She’s upset, and I get why. But this isn’t just about frustration. It’s about how we will work together from here on out.
“You’re right,” I say. “This was a test. For Laurent. For you. And next time, I trust you won’t need me stepping in.”
She doesn’t falter, and I can see the tenacity in her eyes. She’s considering my words. Luna never takes anything at face value, and I wouldn’t want her to. That’s what makes her dangerous in the best way possible.
“You trust me, but only when it suits you.” She’s not wrong. Trust in this world comes with a price. But Luna isn’t the type to crumble when things get hard. She’s the kind who stands her ground, who meets pressure head-on. And she just proved that to me tenfold.
I turn away first, breaking her gaze as I refocus on the matter at hand. Control is a delicate balance; today, Luna has proven she’s more than ready to play her part.
I stride down the hall, letting the hostility roll off my shoulders.
This was just the beginning—for her, for me, for the balance of power we’re navigating.
I see it as a reminder that every move in this house and every decision must fall into place seamlessly.
And whether she likes it or not, I’ll ensure that happens.
I hear the subtle click of her heels against the marble floor before she catches up to me, her fingers curling around my arm firmly enough to halt my stride. I could keep walking, could ignore her heated glare, but I don’t. Not because she demands it, but because she deserves it.
“You don’t get to walk away,” she argues. “You trusted me to step into this role, yet you override me at the first chance you get. You’re mistaken if you think that’s how this will work.”
She’s furious, and rightly so, but fury alone doesn’t move me; it’s the conviction behind it that’s important.
“This isn’t about trust,” I reply, calm but firm. “It’s about control. About making sure Laurent, the staff, and even you understand that nothing runs without oversight.”
“If you want me to do this, let me do my job,” she counters. “And if you can’t do that, tell me now, because I won’t play at power if I don’t have any.”
She’s right.
That’s what irritates me the most.
It’s not Luna I’m angry at, it’s me. I let Mateo send those pictures.
I told myself it was necessary, that the timing was perfect.
Now, I’m snapping at her, questioning her authority, acting like she’s the problem, when I’m the one who crossed the line.
And if she ever finds out, I don’t know what that truth will do to us.
“Then prove it,” I say finally. “Make it clear that when I trust you with something, I don’t have to step in. Because trust isn’t given, Luna, it’s earned. And if you want your authority here to mean something, that starts now.”
I watch her absorb my words, weighing them against everything she already knows about me. She’s always been good at reading between the lines, and I suspect she understands that this is less an admission and more a challenge.
One she won’t walk away from.
I hear Mateo behind me, the measured pace of his footsteps cutting through the quiet hum of the house. He moves with just enough urgency to signal that whatever he’s about to say isn’t something I can ignore.
His expression is unreadable when he appears beside me, but I know him too well to be fooled. The brief flick of his gaze toward Luna tells me we need to talk in private. Whatever this is, it’s not something he wants to discuss in front of her.
I turn to Luna, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll continue this later,” I say, dismissing her.
Without another word, I glance back at Mateo and step away, leading him down the hall where prying ears won’t reach us. Whatever this is, it requires discretion.
And I intend to get answers.
As I step into my office, I lean against my desk and give him the floor.
“Luna asked about the basement,” Mateo says. “She’s noticed the servants coming and going, and she’s curious. I thought you’d want to know.”
I was expecting Mateo to bring up the fallout from the pictures, not this. Not Luna. I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to relieve this damn headache. “Did you give her an answer?”
“I told her not to ask questions she doesn’t want the answers to,” Mateo replies. “But she won’t let it go. She’s being very persistent.”
“Keep an eye on her; if she keeps pushing, I want to know before it becomes a problem.” She should have come to me with her questions, not Mateo.