Chapter 9 - The Empty Chair Again
Six months later, Danielle’s chair was empty again.
Adrien stopped walking.
Then he remembered.
She no longer worked outside his office.
He hated that he still looked.
Moretti Holdings had changed.
The criminal subsidiaries were gone. Several former associates had disappeared from Adrien’s life voluntarily; others had been removed by investigations. The legitimate company survived smaller but cleaner.
Danielle’s foundation occupied two floors downstairs.
She was excellent at running it.
Which meant Adrien saw less of her.
He disliked this development intensely.
At 8:12 one morning, he appeared in her office.
Danielle looked up.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I own the building.”
“That isn’t an appointment.”
“I’m sleeping with the president.”
“That sounds like an HR violation.”
“I’m considering marriage.”
Her pen stopped.
Adrien realized what he had said.
Danielle slowly looked up.
“You’re considering what?”
He adjusted his cuff.
“I was speaking hypothetically.”
“You look terrified.”
“I am never terrified.”
“You broke into my apartment because I missed one morning of work.”
“The door was structurally weak.”
Danielle stood.
For all his power, Adrien Moretti suddenly looked like a man who would rather negotiate with ten armed enemies than finish this conversation.
She rescued him.
“Dinner tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Seven?”
“Six-thirty.”
“Seven.”
“Fine.”
That night Adrien took her to an expensive restaurant.
He had a ring.
He did not propose.
The waiter came.
Dessert came.
Coffee came.
Still nothing.
Danielle finally asked, “Are you having some kind of medical event?”
“No.”
“You’ve checked your pocket sixteen times.”
Adrien glared.
She smiled.
“Come on.”
She took his hand and led him outside.
Rain had begun falling over Manhattan.
“Danielle—”
“Walk with me.”
They crossed three blocks.
The rain grew heavier.
Danielle laughed when Adrien tried unsuccessfully to shelter them beneath his coat.
Then she slipped on the wet pavement.
Adrien caught her.
For a heartbeat, the city disappeared.
The moment mirrored another one—the terrible morning when he had found her helpless on her apartment floor.
Only now she was laughing.
Healthy.
Alive.
His.
Adrien forgot the restaurant.
Forgot the speech.
Forgot every carefully planned sentence.
He dropped to one knee in the rain.
Danielle stared.
“Adrien.”
“I had something prepared.”
She covered her mouth.
“I’ve forgotten all of it.”
“Good.”
“Danielle Carter, for seven years you made my life function while I barely noticed yours.”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“Then you disappeared for one morning, and I discovered I had built my entire day around you.”
Rain ran down his face.
“You were never just my secretary. You were the person I trusted before I understood I trusted anyone. You were home before I understood what home meant.”
He opened the ring box.
“Marry me.”
Danielle cried.
Then laughed.
Then cried harder.
Adrien waited.
“Well?”
“You waited seven years. You can wait five seconds.”
“Danielle.”
“Yes.”
He stood so quickly he nearly dropped the ring.
She laughed against his mouth as he kissed her.
Across the street, a photographer captured the moment.
Adrien noticed.
His old instincts returned.
“Give me ten seconds.”
Danielle grabbed his lapel.
“Leave him alone.”
“He photographed us.”
“We’re in Manhattan.”
“He’s annoying.”
“You’re retired from terrifying civilians.”
“I’m not retired. I’ve reduced my hours.”
She kissed him again.
May you like
And the most feared man in the Moretti organization obediently forgot about the photographer.
Mostly.
