Chapter 7 - The View from the TopThree weeks later, the rain finally cleared over Seattle, leaving behind a crisp, brilliant afternoon where the sunlight danced off the waters of Elliott Bay like shattered diamonds.
From the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite, the city looked vast, orderly, and entirely submissive.
Prescott Development had collapsed within forty-eight hours of our boardroom meeting; the father was currently facing federal wire fraud charges, and Ethan had fled to Arizona to escape the wreckage of his social standing and the cancellation of his engagement to Chloe—who, predictably, had vanished the moment the money dried up. My mother had stopped calling my phone entirely, paralyzed by the realization that her oldest daughter was no longer someone she could control, dismiss, or weaponize.
The heavy mahogany door of the suite opened, and footsteps crossed the plush carpet behind me.
"You're staring at the harbor again," Lorenzo's voice murmured near my ear.
I didn't turn around; I simply leaned back against his chest as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me securely against him. I felt the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his shirt.
"I'm not staring," I corrected, resting my hands over his arms. "I'm just admiring the real estate."
Lorenzo let out a low, rumbling laugh that vibrated against my back. "All of it belongs to you, if you want it."
"I have my own office, thank you very much," I replied, turning my head to look up at him. The dark intensity in his eyes had softened into something warm, possessive, and entirely real over the past month. "Though I have to admit, being chief of staff to a mafia boss has certain perks."
"Like what?"
"Well," I smiled, tracing the lapel of his jacket. "For starters, the catering is significantly better than Bellini's."
Lorenzo caught my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips for a slow, deliberate kiss.
"That's good," he whispered against my skin. "Because I was planning to take you out to dinner tonight. Somewhere public. Somewhere crowded."
I raised an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in my eyes. "Oh? And what are we celebrating?"
"Not a celebration," Lorenzo said, his gaze locking onto mine with absolute, unwavering certainty. "Just reminding Seattle who you really are."
I smiled, letting go of every ghost from my past, every expectation my family had ever tried to force upon my shoulders. I wasn't the invisible daughter anymore. I wasn't the forgotten umbrella in the corner.
May you like
I was the storm.
"Let's go," I said, slipping my hand into his. "I hear the view from the top is even better when you're not hiding."
