Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ADDIE
The sound of that deadbolt was a challenge, not a conclusion.
I stood in the center of the living room for exactly sixty seconds after Vidar left, listening to the hum of the air conditioning and the distant, muffled pulse of the city forty floors below.
In the bedroom he pointed out, I found my makeup bag on the sink.
I snagged a hairpin and a stiff strip of plastic from a high-end clothing tag.
It took me three minutes. The lock was sophisticated, but it was designed to keep people out, not to prevent a determined woman from sliding into the service corridor. Ten minutes later, I stepped into the crisp Manhattan air without a phone or a wallet, but I had a plan.
Crossing town was an exercise in invisibility.
I hopped over the turnstile at the 59th Street station.
I was cool as a cucumber as I blended into a pack of commuters.
This wasn't my first time being penniless in a big city.
I'd left home ten years ago with only the clothes on my back and a scholarship.
Today, I felt naked without my digital tether, but a phone was also an excellent way to track.
When I reached the Sterling her dark eyes clouded with a weary sort of brilliance.
"My office. Now," she commanded.
Once the door was shut, the silence was different than at the penthouse. This was the silence of a bunker. Nell didn't sit. She leaned against her desk and crossed her arms.
"Addie, what's really going on?"
I almost asked her which part. But I knew my former boss. She was asking about business first.
"The market is moving faster than I can track. This is not just a short-sell anymore. It looks like a coordinated, hostile takeover. The lead entity is Blackwood Holdings. Your super-sudden fiancé" —here she used air quotes— "is trying to gut this firm."
I looked out her window, unable to meet her gaze. My loyalties were a tangled, bleeding mess. I wanted to protect Nell; she was the only person who had ever seen me as more than a Vane asset. But then there was my brother, sleeping off a hangover in the Blackwood's multi-wing mansion.
"It's... complicated, Nell."
"Addie, you’re wearing a dress that costs more than my car, but you look like you just escaped a shipwreck. You’re being evasive. Are you a part of this?"
"Just know that I’m trying to make sure you come out of this okay."
"I think we need to make sure that you come out of this okay."
I wanted to hug her again. But that wasn't our relationship. Nell and I were problem solvers, women who got shit done while men smoked their cigars in golf carts.
I moved to Nell’s desk, the familiar weight of a keyboard under my fingertips feeling more like home than any penthouse or mansion. I fired up her terminal, my eyes narrowing as the lines of code and market tickers began to scroll.
"The Blackwoods are move-fast, break-everything types." My hands flew across the keys. "They’re likely angling for a hostile takeover, but I’m going to bake a poison pill into your personal equity. If they swallow Sterling, they’ll have to keep your department intact just to keep the lights on. I’m making you indispensable, Nell."
Nell didn't look at the screen. She looked at me.
"Addie, stop. Look at yourself. You’re shaking.
" She reached out, covering my hand with hers, forcing my typing to a halt.
"Forget the equity. Forget Sterling. This firm is a sinking ship, and you’re trapped on a bigger one.
Leave them. Come with me. We have enough contacts to start our own boutique firm.
We can be out of the city by tonight. Just.. . walk away from him."
The temptation hit me like a physical wave. I could almost see it—a life where I wasn't an asset or a Vane bargaining chip. Just Addie.
"I can't." The word tasted like ash. I knew the Blackwood reach. If I ran, they wouldn't just hunt me; they’d dismantle anyone who helped me. I couldn't drag Nell into the crosshairs of a pack that had just erased the Ironwoods from the map. "I’m too deep in the red, Nell. I have to stay."
I pulled my hand back and dove back into the data.
Then I saw it. My fingers froze over the backspace key.
Tucked inside the latest transit ledger for the Ironwood territories—accounts the Blackwoods had seized only hours ago—was a specific, high-frequency "loophole" encryption.
It was the exact offshore pivot I had suggested to Vidar.
He’d used it. He’d taken my tactical brilliance, the one thing I had left of myself, and plugged it into his war machine to drain the Ironwood accounts dry. He was using my mind to fund his slaughter, and he hadn't even had the decency to tell me.
"That bastard."
A heavy, rhythmic thud-thud-thud echoed through the office door. It wasn't a secretary’s knock. It was the sound of a predator announcing his presence. The temperature in the room plummeted. Nell stiffened, her eyes darting to the door as the handle turned with a slow, agonizing deliberation.
Vidar stood in the doorway.
He looked every bit the apex predator in a glass-and-steel jungle. He didn't look angry; he looked disappointed, which was infinitely worse. His eyes swept over the room, landing on me, then shifting to the glowing monitor where the encryption code was still visible.
Vidar stepped into the room, his presence expanding to fill every corner of the cramped office. He didn't growl. He didn't snap. Instead, he smoothed the front of his jacket and turned a blinding, charismatic smile toward Nell.
"Petronella, isn't it?" he said, his voice dropping into a warm, melodic baritone. "I’ve heard so much about your brilliance. My apologies for the intrusion. My wife has a habit of forgetting that she’s no longer on the clock."
Nell ignored him and looked to me. "Wife?"
I swallowed and nodded. "It was a private ceremony. The big one will be in a few months."
Nell stood her ground, her face a mask of polite, icy professional skepticism. "She’s not on your clock either, Mr. Blackwood. She’s a friend. Friends don't usually require their husbands to track them down like runaway property."
Vidar let out a soft, charming chuckle, the sound vibrating in my very marrow.
He walked over to me, sliding a possessive hand around my waist and pulling me flush against his side.
"We’re still in the honeymoon phase. I suppose I’m just a bit overprotective.
We’ll see you at the formal celebration in a few months, Ms. Odhiambo.
I’ll make sure you’re at the head table. "
Nell’s smile didn't reach her eyes. "That’s very kind. But just so we’re clear, Mr. Blackwood, I have very close friends in the NYPD. If Addie ever feels... overprotected to the point of distress, those friends will be the first to know."
Vidar’s smile deepened, turning into something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
He leaned in slightly, as if sharing a delightful secret.
"That’s wonderful to hear. I love a woman who values security.
Though between us? I don't just know people in the police department.
I own the police department. It saves so much time on paperwork. "
The air in the room curdled. Nell’s breath hitched, but Vidar was already moving, his hand firm on the small of my back as he guided me toward the door.
"Come along, darling," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to my temple that felt like a brand. "We have a dinner reservation we really shouldn't miss."
He was the picture of a doting, attentive husband as we walked through the bullpen.
He kept his arm around me, nodding to my former coworkers, playing the part of the powerful man hopelessly in love with his brilliant bride.
The moment the elevator doors slid shut, sealing us in the silver box, the mask disintegrated.
"You have exactly one minute to tell me why I shouldn't dismantle that woman's life for interfering with what is mine."