Chapter 3 - Back to the Penthouse
1210 Words
Nadia's POV
The penthouse looked the same, but everything felt different. The broken vase Adrian had thrown was gone, cleaned up like it never happened.
Like our fight this morning was just a bad dream.
"Your room is ready," Adrian said, setting my bags down.
"My room?" I turned to him. "We've shared a bedroom for three years."
"Not anymore." His voice was cold, businesslike.
"You wanted a divorce. Fine. But while you're here for your protection, we're roommates. Nothing more."
He pointed down the hall. "Guest bedroom. Third door on the right."
"Adrian-"
"I have work to do." He walked to his office. "Don't leave the penthouse. Security is posted at all exits."
The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the living room where I'd handed him divorce papers just twelve hours ago. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
My phone rang. Emma.
"Are you okay? I've been worried sick!"
"I'm back at the penthouse."
"What? Nadia, no! You just left!"
I walked to the window, looking out at the city lights.
"My father's in the hospital. Someone tried to kill him, Em. And they're coming after me next."
"Who? What are you talking about?"
I told her everything-Willaimss Kendrick, the threats, the photo of me at her apartment.
"Oh my God. Should I call the police?"
"Adrian says they won't be able to do anything. Williams is too powerful, too connected.."
"So what, you're just going to stay married to a man you hate?"
"I don't hate him." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Emma was quiet for a moment. "Nadia..."
"I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow."
I hung up before she could say anything else. The guest bedroom was beautiful but cold, decorated in grays and whites like the rest of the penthouse.
Nothing like the warm master bedroom I'd tried to make homey over the years.
A knock on the door made me jump.
"Come in."
It was Mrs. Matt, our housekeeper. "Mrs. Caldwell, Mr. Caldwell asked me to bring you dinner."
"Thank you, but I'm not hungry."
She set the tray down anyway. "He also wanted me to give you this."
It was a new phone, still in its box.
"Your old one might be compromised," she explained. "This one has enhanced security."
After she left, I sat on the bed staring at the phone.
Even now, even angry, Adrian was taking care of me.
Just like he always had, in his own cold way.
I couldn't sleep. At two in the morning, I gave up and went to the kitchen for water. The penthouse was dark except for a light under Adrian's office door.
I knocked softly. "Adrian?"
"Come in."
He was at his desk, laptop open, surrounded by papers. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie discarded. He looked tired.
"You should sleep," I said.
"Can't. Trying to track Williams's movements." He glanced up at me.
"You should be sleeping too."
"Can't."
We looked at each other across the office. Three years of marriage, and we'd never really talked. Not about real things.
"Why did you really marry me?" I asked.
He leaned back in his chair. "Your father asked me to."
"That's it? My father asked, So you gave up your freedom?"
"I didn't have the freedom to give up." He turned back to his laptop.
"My marriage was always going to be arranged. ..
"And what was that?"
"Someone who wouldn't expect love."
The words stung more than they should have. "How did you know I wouldn't expect love?"
"Because you agreed to marry a stranger." He finally looked at me again. "People who believe in love don't do that."
"Maybe I hoped—"
"What? That I'd fall for you? That we'd have some fairy tale?" He laughed bitterly. "I told you from day one what this was."
"Yes, you were very clear." I turned to leave.
"Goodnight, Adrian."
"Nadia."
I stopped but didn't turn around.
"Your father's company. The reason it's worth so much now? It's because of what we built together these three years. Every deal you helped me with, every connection you made at those awful charity events—it all added value."
"What's your point?"
"My point is, we make a good team. Even if we don't..." He paused. "Even if we're not what you wanted."
I left without answering as his words followed me back to my room.
My new phone buzzed at four AM. Unknown number.
"Good morning, Mrs. Caldwell. Or should I say Miss Hart? I heard you moved to a different bedroom. Trouble in paradise?"
My blood ran cold. How did they know about the bedroom?
Another message came through: "Your husband seems stressed. All those late nights in his office. It would be a shame if something happened to him too."
I was out of bed and running to Adrian's office before I could think. I burst through the door.
"We have a problem."
He looked up, alert despite the hour. I showed him the messages.
His face went pale. "They're watching us. Inside the penthouse."
"How is that possible?"
He was already on his phone, calling security.
"Everyone up. Now. We have a breach."
Within minutes, the penthouse was swarming with security guards sweeping for cameras, bugs, anything. They found them in the living room, kitchen, and hallway-fourteen cameras total. But none in the bedrooms or Adrian's office.
"They've been watching us for weeks," the head of security said. "Maybe months."
I felt sick. Every moment, every conversation in those rooms-someone had been watching.
"How?" Adrian demanded.
"Could be anyone with access. Maintenance, delivery people, even-"
"Even someone we trust," Adrian finished.
After security left, we sat in his office-the only room we knew was safe.
"You can't stay in the guest room," Adrian said. "If they're watching, they need to believe we're united."
"You want me to move back to our bedroom?"
"It's the only room without cameras. You'll be safer there."
"With you?"
"I'll sleep on the couch."
I wanted to argue, but I was too tired and too scared.
"Fine."
Back in our-his-bedroom, I watched him set up pillows and a blanket on the couch. It was too small for his tall frame.
"Take the bed," I said. "It's big enough for both of us."
"Nadia-"
"We're adults, Adrian. We can share a bed without it meaning anything."
He hesitated, then nodded. We got into bed, careful to stay on opposite sides. But in the darkness, I could hear his breathing, feel his warmth across the space between us.
"Adrian?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think my father's going to be okay?"
"He's tough. He'll pull through."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because he has you to come back to."
I turned to look at him in the darkness. "That was almost sweet."
"Don't get used to it."
Despite everything, I smiled. "Goodnight, Adrian."
"Goodnight, Nadia."
Just as I was falling asleep, my phone lit up with another message. But this time it wasn't from Willaimss.
It was from my father's phone: "If you want your father to live through the night, come alone to the warehouse on Pier 47. You have one hour. Tell no one, especially not your husband."
- Writer
