Chapter 9 - The Woman in Red Returns
Six months later, Penelope walked into another gala.
Nobody laughed.
She wore red again.
Not because she needed armor.
Because she liked red.
There was a difference.
She was now Chief Financial Officer of Cruz Hospitality and had become mildly famous in certain Manhattan business circles after uncovering a procurement fraud scheme that saved Isabella nearly forty million dollars.
Her student loans were gone.
Her emergency fund had recovered.
Her apartment had windows that actually closed.
And Larkin had never stopped courting her.
Flowers were too obvious for him.
So he sent books.
Coffee.
Once, after Penelope complained that her office chair was destroying her spine, a German ergonomic chair appeared downstairs with a note:
Romance is temporary. Lumbar support is forever. — L
She had laughed for ten minutes.
Their relationship developed slowly.
Deliberately.
No ownership.
No commands.
No pretending the past had disappeared.
Larkin was changing too.
Steves Holdings had sold or closed most of its criminal operations.
The legitimate logistics, real estate, and technology divisions remained.
It cost him money.
It cost him allies.
Two attempts had been made on his life.
But each month, his world became less like his father's.
Tonight's gala celebrated the Steves Foundation, a new organization providing legal and financial assistance to families harmed by organized crime.
Thomas called it "aggressive guilt management."
Penelope called it a start.
She entered the ballroom.
Larkin saw her from across the room.
His reaction still amused her.
He always stopped whatever he was doing.
Always.
Six months had not changed that.
He approached.
"You look—"
"Careful."
"Expensive."
She laughed.
"Good recovery."
"Unforgettable."
That word landed differently.
Because she remembered the first gala.
The humiliation.
The fear.
The woman who had spent five thousand dollars to prove she could not be laughed out of a room.
Larkin extended his hand.
"Dance with me."
"I thought you hated dancing."
"I do."
"Then why?"
"Because you like it."
Penelope took his hand.
Halfway through the song, Thomas approached.
His face was wrong.
"Larkin."
Penelope felt the old cold sensation return.
"What?"
Thomas handed him a phone.
Nathaniel Steves had escaped during a courthouse transfer.
And he had left one message.
I'M COMING HOME.
The gala continued around them.
Music.
Champagne.
Laughter.
Larkin stared at the message.
Then Penelope took the phone.
Deleted it.
And handed it back.
Thomas looked horrified.
"What are you doing?"
"He's trying to control the room from a hundred miles away."
"Penelope—"
"No."
She looked at Larkin.
"Six months ago, he could make everyone panic by sending six words. We're not giving him that power."
Larkin studied her.
Then smiled.
"You're right."
Thomas looked between them.
"You two are terrifying."
"We've been told."
But Nathaniel did return.
Not to reclaim the empire.
To destroy what remained.
At midnight, alarms sounded at Steves Holdings.
A fire had started on the forty-second floor.
Inside Larkin's former office.
Firefighters contained it.
Nobody died.
But one object was discovered on Larkin's desk.
A photograph.
Penelope at the first Solstice Gala.
A red circle drawn around her face.
This time, Larkin did panic.
Not visibly.
But Penelope knew him.
She touched his cheek.
"He wants you frightened."
"He threatened you."
"Then we finish it."
"Together?"
She nodded.
"Together."
Nathaniel had made the same mistake again.
He believed Penelope was Larkin's weakness.
He still didn't understand.
She had never been the weakness.
May you like
She was the person who knew exactly where all the numbers led.
And the next morning, one forgotten account finally told her where Nathaniel Steves was hiding.
