I nodded, unable to trust my voice. The fairy tale was over. Cinderella’s carriage had turned back into a pumpkin, and I was left holding the pieces of whatever we’d almost been.
I wanted to pout, but I didn’t because I understood this was his job, but I’d gotten my hopes up and had been let down.
The ride home was silent. Silence thick as fog between Malice and me. He kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, checking on me the way he’d been trained to do, but I stayed turned toward the window, watching the city blur past.
I understood what had happened. I’d seen how quickly the room shifted, how serious faces became when that phone buzzed. In Lesley’s world, when business called, everything else stopped. Including wives. Including moments that felt like they might be leading somewhere. My heart went out to Taiwan’s wife; her day had been ruined.
That was the life I’d signed up for. That was the protection I’d accepted.
But I’d started wanting more than protection. I’d started wanting him. And that was dangerous territory for a woman married to a man whose first priority would always be the empire that he’d protect at all costs.
By the time we pulled into the penthouse garage, I’d already sent the group text:
Me: I miss y’all. Emergency wine night?
Initially, I’d planned to keep this whole marriage situation to myself. But after tonight, after realizing I was developing feelings for a man whose phone would always matter more than my heart, I needed to talk it through. I needed perspective from people who knew me before I became Mrs. Grimson.
Back in the penthouse, I moved through the motions of making space for them. Lit candles on the kitchen island, fluffed the throw pillows on the sectional that no one ever sat on properly. Small rituals helped distract me from the disappointment that still hadn’t let go.
Forty-five minutes later, the elevator dinged, and Yaslynn’s laugh echoed through the living room before she even stepped off.
“Bitch,” Yaslynn announced, stepping through with her arms full of brown paper bags and a bottle of Casamigos tucked under her arm. “Whose penthouse did you break into? This shit is ridiculous.”
Rebecca stepped in behind her, rolling a suitcase, heels in hand. “I just got off a flight, and I need a drink. The fucking airline is refusing to give me more time at home, so I took it. If I get fired, I may need a shot at his daddy.”
This was what I’d forgotten I needed, Yaslynn’s unfiltered commentary and Rebecca’s dry humor cutting through whatever was heavy in the air. Women who showed up when you called,who brought their own chaos and somehow made everything feel lighter just by existing in your space.
“I hate y’all.” I laughed, stepping aside so they could come in. “But thank you for coming.”
Yaslynn dropped the bags on the kitchen counter and spun around to look at me. “Okay, baby, what’s going on? Whose penthouse are we in for real?”
I poured three shots of the Casamigos and handed them out. “Mine.”
“Yours?” Rebecca sat on the couch, tucking her legs under her. “Girl, when did you get penthouse money? Last time we talked, you had a big dinner to work.”
I took a large sip of tequila, feeling the burn as it went down. “I got married. A few weeks ago. To Lesley Grimson.”
The silence was deafening. Both of them stared at me like I’d announced I was joining a circus.
“Lesley Grimson,” Rebecca repeated slowly, setting down her glass. “As in the Grimson family that runs this city?”
“The same Grimson family my mama told me to stay away from?” Yaslynn added, her voice rising.
I nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. “It started as an arrangement. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, saw something I shouldn’t have. Marriage was protection for both of us.”
“But now?” Rebecca pressed, reading my face.
“Now I think I’m catching feelings for a man I barely know.” I gestured around the luxury surrounding us. “Tonight reminded me that no matter how real this feels, his world comes first. It always will.”
Yaslynn leaned forward. “Honey, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Before I could answer, the elevator sounded again. We all turned toward the sound, and I felt my stomach drop when I saw Malice step out.
“Mrs. Grimson,” he said. “Mr. Grimson wants to speak with you.”
He handed me the phone, and I walked over to Lesley’s office, feeling my friends’ eyes burning into my back.
“What Lesley?”
