Chapter 5 - The Penthouse
The Manhattan penthouse occupied the top three floors of a sleek, glass skyscraper overlooking Central Park. It was fortified with biometric scanners, reinforced glass, and a dedicated team of private security guards.
Yet, despite its clinical, high-tech security, the penthouse quickly became something the Greenwich estate had never been: a home.
Over the next two weeks, Nia transformed the space.
She replaced the cold, minimalist decor with bright rugs, framed drawings the boys made during art sessions, and stacks of books. The pristine, silent rooms were now filled with the chaotic, beautiful sounds of children living—laughter, debate, music, and the occasional thud of a soccer ball bouncing down the hallway.
Maya’s surgery at Columbia Presbyterian had been a resounding success.
Nia spent her mornings visiting her sister at the hospital, accompanied by two of Adrian's top bodyguards, before returning to the penthouse to manage the boys' schooling and routines.
One evening, after the boys had gone to bed, Nia was sitting at the kitchen island, going over a budget sheet for the boys' summer programs.
The penthouse was quiet. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights of Manhattan stretched out like a galaxy of stars.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Adrian walked into the kitchen. He had dropped his suit jacket, wearing a soft gray cashmere sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He carried two glasses and a bottle of expensive red wine.
"You're working late," Adrian said, pouring a glass and sliding it toward her.
"Just organizing the boys' summer schedule," Nia smiled, taking a small sip of the rich wine. "Evan wants to join a debate club. Caleb wants to take martial arts. Noah asked for painting lessons, and Luke... well, Luke just wants to go to the zoo every day."
Adrian sat down on the barstool beside her, looking at her with a quiet, intense gaze. "You've done more for them in two weeks than I managed in four years, Nia."
"You were drowning in grief, Adrian," Nia said gently, using his first name as she had done increasingly over the past few days. "When your wife died, you locked your heart away to survive. The boys saw that, and they thought you had locked them out too."
Adrian looked down at his wine glass, his dark brows drawing together. "I thought... I thought if I kept my distance, I wouldn't drag them into the darkness of my life. My work... the things I do..."
"Your work is dangerous," Nia acknowledged frankly. "But you are their father. They don't care about your empire, Adrian. They just care about you."
Adrian reached out, his long fingers gently touching the back of her hand resting on the counter. "And what about you, Nia? What do you care about?"
Nia felt a sudden, electrical current shoot up her arm at his touch. She looked up into his dark eyes, finding herself completely mesmerized by the warmth and vulnerability in them.
"I care about keeping this family whole," Nia whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Adrian leaned closer, his face inches from hers. "You restored this family, Nia. You restored me."
Before either of them could speak, Adrian’s personal phone buzzed violently on the counter.
The moment was shattered.
Adrian pulled back, looking at the encrypted screen. His face hardened instantly into stone.
"What is it?" Nia asked, sensing the sudden shift in the air.
"It's Marcus," Adrian said, standing up, his voice turning cold. "The Moretti faction didn't act alone two weeks ago. Someone inside my own organization gave them the security codes to the Greenwich estate."
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Nia’s eyes widened. "A traitor?"
"And according to Marcus," Adrian growled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, "the mole just leaked our location here in Manhattan."
