Chapter 5 - The Trap is SetTwo weeks later, Kate was discharged from St. Jude’s Memorial, her strength fully restored, though the protective mama-bear instinct radiating from her was enough to intimidate an army.
We didn't return to Hawthorne Ridge immediately. Instead, we moved into my penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park—a heavily fortified, glass-enclosed fortress equipped with private elevator access, biometric locks, and a dedicated security floor staffed around the clock.
Our son—whom we had officially named Julian Alexander Avery—slept peacefully in a custom mahogany bassinet beside our bed, thriving on specialized formula and round-the-clock pediatric care.
It was late evening, past midnight, when I stepped out onto the wraparound glass terrace, holding a crystal tumbler of single-malt Scotch. The lights of Manhattan stretched out before me like a vast, glittering circuit board of ambition and power.
The glass door slid open behind me, and Kate stepped out onto the terrace, wearing a soft cashmere robe, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders. She walked up beside me, resting her hands on the cold steel railing, staring out at the park below.
“You’re thinking about the gala next week,” she said softly, without looking at me.
I took a slow sip of the Scotch, letting the amber liquid burn my throat. “Is it that obvious?”
“You’ve been pacing the penthouse like a caged panther for three days,” she replied, turning her head to meet my gaze. Her dark brown eyes were clear, steady, and entirely devoid of fear. “Alexander... you’re playing a very dangerous game. Inviting Malcolm Bannon to a public celebration of our son’s birth? You’re painting a target on our backs.”
“I’m painting a target on his back,” I corrected gently, setting the tumbler down on a small marble table. I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her soft body against mine. “Bannon thinks he’s hunting us. He thinks he’s discovered a dirty little secret he can use to blackmail Avery Environmental into submission. By dragging him out of the shadows and into a room full of federal prosecutors, municipal judges, and international press, I’m stripping him of his leverage.”
“And if he tries something during the gala?” she asked, her voice dropping, though her hands rested reassuringly against my chest.
“Marcus and forty of my best tactical operatives will be stationed at every exit, security portal, and kitchen door,” I promised, pressing a kiss into her dark hair. “Nobody touches you. Nobody touches our son. I built this empire to protect what is mine, Kate. And nothing on this earth is more mine than the two of you.”
Kate sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. “I never thought I’d say this, but... I trust you.”
May you like
The words hit me with the force of a physical revelation. For two years, our marriage had been built on suspicion, corporate maneuvering, and silent resentment. Hearing her say those three simple words felt like receiving absolution.
“You won’t regret it,” I whispered fiercely.
