That morning felt too quiet ,there was no alarm that went off like it . Gable out there slam her fist on the door like the place was burning down. Just this thick, smothering kind of silence that had my stomach doing flips.
I sat there on the edge of that crappy little cot in the servants' quarters, eyes locked on the gray uniform folded neat at the foot of the bed. Three days. That's all it took for the thing to feel like some kind of armor. It hid me. Kept me safe. But sunlight was sneaking in through that stupid high window now, and I knew deep down, no arguing with it I wasn't sliding into it again.
"The maid disappears," Christian had said last night. The words wouldn't leave me alone. Just kept bouncing around up there.
I dug into my boot and fished out the burner phone. Thumb hovering. Should text Marcus. Tell him the whole plan just flipped upside down no more skulking in the background. I was heading straight into the east wing, basically moving in with the guy I was supposed to take out. But something stopped me cold. That old gut twist I've had since I was a kid. Marcus wouldn't buy it as clever. He'd call it me going lone wolf, and control was his whole deal. Losing it? Hell no.
Then the knock hit. Loud. Solid. Not some polite little tap like the rest of the staff. This was someone saying open up, right now, or else.
I pulled the door open and there he was Christian. No slick suit this morning. Just a plain black sweater, sleeves shoved up rough, showing those arms and that thin ugly scar cutting across his wrist. He looked… different. Tougher. More like flesh and blood than the polished boss man. More like the dangerous streak I'd seen peek out the night before.
Two women I didn't know hung back behind him, arms full of garment bags and those big clunky makeup kits.
"Pack your stuff," he said, giving my room a quick once-over like it offended him. "You're moving to the east wing."
"I don't have much," I muttered, trying to keep my voice even while my pulse hammered away.
"Good. Most of it's crap anyway." He stepped aside, letting the women through. "Elena and Mia here. Three hours. Make her look like she's worth ten million. Lunch with the lawyers hits at noon."
And just like that, he spun on his heel and headed down the hall. Footsteps echoing. Tick-tock.
Those three hours? Brutal. Not Marcus-training brutal no bruises or screaming but still. Elena and Mia went at me like pros on a deadline. Scrubbed my skin raw, worked sweet fancy oils through my hair that smelled like money, fixed my ragged nails till they didn't look like I'd been chewing them raw for weeks.
"You've got killer bone structure," Elena said under her breath, tipping my chin while she dabbed on this feather-light foundation. "But those eyes… they're locked down tight. Like you're braced for a hit any second."
"Just nerves," I lied. Slipped right out, smooth as always.
She gave this tiny smile. "Hang in there. Around these guys, the scariest thing isn't Christian Harper. It's the woman who can stand next to him and not crumble."
When they finally backed off, I stepped in front of the full-length mirror and… damn. Who the hell was that?
Silky dark blue dress clinging in all the places I usually kept hidden. Hair falling soft and shiny in waves I didn't know it could do. Makeup turning my eyes bigger, darker, sharper like they could cut through bullshit. I looked expensive. Like I actually fit on Christian Harper's arm without people side-eyeing.
Mia passed me the shoes black stilettos, heels like little weapons. I stepped into them and felt taller. Steadier. The real me underneath the sharp, dangerous part just got cleaned up and put on show.
Knock at the door again. Showtime.
Heels clicking loud down the hall. I hit the top of that grand staircase and there he was at the bottom. Back in his deep navy suit, every inch the untouchable CEO. Checking his watch, looking pissed, till my footsteps caught his ear. He glanced up.
Froze solid.
His cool mask cracked for a beat. Eyes dragged from my face, down slow over the dress, back up. Lingered right around the bare skin at my collarbone. Air got thick between us, buzzing like last night all over again.
"Will this do?" I asked, dropping my voice low and smooth, just like Marcus drilled into me.
Christian cleared his throat, jaw clenched tight. "It'll work. Rules though no digging up your past, no talking to press, and that ring stays on whenever eyes are on us."
He pulled a little velvet box from his pocket. Diamond inside was ridiculous huge, icy, flashing like it could blind you. No asking. He just grabbed my left hand his fingers warm, a bit rough and slid it on. Felt heavy. Final. Like a lock clicking shut.
"It's beautiful," I said. Words tasted off, but they came out anyway.
"It's a bullseye," he shot back. "Let's move."
The drive into the city dragged in silence. Back of a black SUV, windows dark as night, Chicago blurring past. I kept my hand in my lap, watching that rock catch every stray bit of light. Felt him sneaking looks my way, even while he pretended to scroll his tablet.
"So what's this lunch actually about?" I finally asked when the quiet got too loud in my head.
"Board needs proof," he said, eyes still down. "Wants to see I've turned over a new leaf. Not just some heartless robot. You're the exhibit. Story is we met months back at some gallery in Paris. You bought my charm act, I got hooked on your mystery. Kept it under wraps 'cause I wanted to shield you."
"Paris," I said, cracking a small smile. "Never set foot there."
"Me neither," he admitted, finally looking over. "But it beats saying I picked up the maid scrubbing my floors."
A real laugh bubbled out before I could swallow it. His eyes went soft for half a second. Almost made him seem… normal. Not the cold monster Marcus painted.
"Why pick me, though?" I blurted before thinking. "Plenty of polished girls out there who'd kill for this setup. Why the random maid?"
He leaned back, gaze sharpening. "Those girls? Carbon copies. Chasing the cash, the name, the fancy life. You… you're after something different. I catch it when you stare at me thinking I'm not looking. Real hunger there, Daniella. And I'd take a starving wolf at my side over some pampered lapdog any day."
Car pulled up at this towering glass building. Paparazzi already swarming like flies, cameras popping off.
"Ready for this?" he asked, holding out his hand.
I stared at it. Then at him. Once I grabbed on and stepped out, doors slammed shut behind me. No retreat. Marcus would hear. Everybody would.
I took his hand anyway.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Ready as I'll ever be."
We stepped into the chaos shouts flying, flashes blinding, city stink hitting hard. Christian yanked me in close, arm locked around my waist. Looked all romantic and protective from the outside. Felt like he was staking a claim.
Lobby was a blur of lights following us. Elevator ride brought sudden quiet. My ears rang with it. I caught our reflection in the shiny walls power couple, picture perfect.
But glancing down at that monster diamond, I spotted the burner phone tucked in my clutch. Marcus still out there waiting. Board wanted their fairy tale. And Christian? He was arming up with me.
Ding. Doors slid open to a room packed with suits. Every head turned, sniffing for weakness.
Christian gave my waist a light squeeze.
"Smile big, Daniella," he murmured right by my ear, warm breath brushing my skin. "Let's remind them who the hell runs this town."
I flashed my brightest grin and walked in.
Game on. The hunt just kicked into high gear.