Chapter 3 - BREAKFAST AT THE NORTH SHOREThe North Shore estate looked less like a home and more like a fortress disguised as a nineteenth-century French chateau. Surrounded by wrought-iron fences, ancient oaks, and private security checkpoints, it was the crown jewel of the Moretti family holdings.
By nine o’clock the next morning, I was sitting at the massive mahogany breakfast table in a charcoal silk dress, sipping black coffee, when the heavy oak front doors flew open.
Footsteps echoed frantically across the marble foyer.
“Evelyn!”
My father’s voice cracked with a mixture of rage and sheer panic as he stormed into the dining room, followed closely by my mother, whose face was pale under layers of designer makeup. Behind them stood Julian, his tailored suit rumpled, his hair unbrushed, and his expression twisted into a mask of pure disbelief.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?!” Julian shouted, slamming his hands onto the edge of the table. “Are you out of your mind? You married him?”
I didn't flinch. I slowly set my coffee cup down on its saucer, the ceramic clinking softly against the wood.
“Good morning, Father. Mother. Julian,” I said, my voice as calm as the morning lake outside. “And please, keep your voice down. You’re tracking mud onto the rug.”
“Evelyn, you take that off right now!” my mother shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at the heavy platinum-and-diamond Moretti family ring resting on my left ring finger. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve humiliated Julian! You’ve destroyed our standing with the board!”
“My standing?” Julian snarled, leaning over the table so close I could smell the stale scotch on his breath. “The banks just called me! They froze all my corporate accounts! They’re saying the Hart trust has been reassigned—to her!”
“It was never yours, Julian,” a deep, cold voice cut through the room like a razor.
We all turned.
Nikolai walked into the dining room from the adjoining study. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket; his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the lean, corded muscle of a man who didn't just inherit power, but fought for every inch of it. He slid into the seat beside mine, casually draping an arm over the back of my chair.
Julian recoiled instinctively, his face draining of what little color it had left.
“Nikolai…” Julian stammered, his bravado instantly evaporating. “This… this is a mistake. Evelyn is just… she’s upset about last night. She doesn't know what she’s doing with the logistics shares—she’s just a teacher—”
“She is my wife,” Nikolai interrupted, his voice dropping an octave into a register that made my father step back. “And she is the majority voting block of the Hart-Moretti corridor. Your little stunt at the Halston Hotel last night terminated any claim you had to this family, Julian.”
My father’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple. He turned to me, his eyes wide with desperate fury. “Evelyn, listen to me right now. You are going to undo this paperwork. You are going to sign the transfer back to Julian and apologize for this childish tantrum, or so help me god—!”
“Or what, Father?” I interrupted, finally standing up from my chair.
I smoothed down the front of my dress, looking down at the man who had treated me like a second-class citizen my entire life.
“Or you’ll cut me out of the will?” I smiled faintly. “Too late. You don't have a will left to cut me out of. Arthur Vance already audited your personal holdings as well. Turns out you’ve been embezzling from the grandfather trust for five years to fund Julian’s startup.”
My father staggered backward as if he’d been physically struck. My mother let out a sharp gasp and grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling.
Julian stared at me as if he were looking at a stranger—or worse, a monster he had accidentally woken from a deep sleep.
“You… you planned this,” Julian whispered, horror dawning in his eyes.
“No, Julian,” I said, stepping past him toward the french doors that led out to the gardens. “I just stopped cleaning up your mess.”
May you like
I turned back at the threshold, looking at Nikolai, who was watching me with a look of absolute, unapologetic devotion.
“Come along, husband,” I said smoothly. “I believe we have a board meeting to attend, and I wouldn't want to keep Chicago waiting.”
