The morning sun sliced through the blinds of Daniel's office, creating sharp lines of light and shadow. He sat behind his massive desk, the only sound the quiet hum of his laptop. On the screen, a silent, high-definition video played. It was the security footage from The Velvet's lobby, delivered fresh by Liam. He watched it with a focused, cold intensity, a wide, humorless grin on his face.
He didn't need sound. He saw it all. He saw Lina's sleepy confusion harden into pure panic as the manager gave her the total. He saw Bella's bravado disintegrate. He watched, frame by frame, as they emptied the pathetic contents of their wallets and drained their meager bank accounts onto the cold marble counter. This was better than any physical blow. This was an erasure. A quiet, methodical gutting.
He was just about to close the laptop, savoring the aftertaste of her ruin, when his office door swung open without so much as a courtesy knock.
The grin vanished, wiped clean. His head lifted slowly, the cold, assessing gaze of a predator meeting an unwelcome intrusion. The annoyance was a quick, hot spark—who the fuck—
It died as quickly as it flared. Riley.
Riley stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light, holding an elegant insulated bag. She never knocked.
"Daniel," she cooed, her voice like syrup poured over morning sunshine. "You must have left so early. You couldn't have eaten." It was an accusation wrapped in concern. She floated to the sofa and began unpacking: porcelain cups of perfect berries, croissants that glittered with butter, small pots of clotted cream and jam.
He didn't move from his desk, the afterglow of Lina's misery still warm in his veins. "I ate at the office," he lied, his voice flat.
As if on cue, a low, undeniable rumble echoed from his stomach, a traitorous sound in the quiet room.
Riley's face lit up with sweet triumph. "See? Your body is begging for sustenance. Don't be stubborn." She held out a small silver spoon.
He gave in, not because he wanted the food, but because arguing would take more energy than just eating it. He sat across from her. The food was impeccable: seared scallops, some kind of salad with gold flakes in it. It tasted like a five-star restaurant.
"I woke up early to bake these," Riley said, taking a tiny bite. "I was so excited to bring them to you, I forgot to eat anything myself."
Daniel chewed slowly. It was a bald-faced lie. This was a chef's work, not a socialite's. He knew the difference intimately. But calling her out meant drama—tears, justifications, a whole exhausting performance. He couldn't be bothered. Let her have her little fantasy of domestic goddesshood. It meant less than nothing to him.
They ate in a silence she interpreted as intimate. He was simply waiting for the performance to end.
Finally, she rose, gathering the empty containers. "I should go greet your grandmother properly. I haven't had the chance since I arrived, and I've been wanting to see the Viggo mansion again." She gave him her shy, cute expression. "I'd like to accompany her for a while, if that's alright."
Daniel gave a nonchalant shrug, his expression unreadable. "Suit yourself," he said, his tone casual. "It's just a house. She's usually in the sunroom."
The moment the door clicked shut, the office felt clearer. His phone buzzed almost immediately. A call from Liam.
He answered without a word.
"They've exhausted their accessible funds," Liam reported, his tone crisp and direct. "They pooled their remaining cash for a taxi, but it only covered part of the trip. The driver left them at the corner of Melrose, and they completed the journey on foot."
Before he could reply, a soft chime signaled incoming files. A video preview loaded: a shaky, silent clip taken from a moving car, showing the two of them trudging along a sun-baked sidewalk, their shadows long and thin in the morning light.
"Sending you the rest," Liam said.
Three images arrived in sequence. The first captured her sitting on the stone wall, slumped forward with her elbows on her knees. In the second, she was standing again, one hand braced against a lamppost as she bent over to rub her ankle. The third was a candid moment: Lina, her expression one of weary appeal, was pressing her scuffed leather flats into Bella's hands. The plea was still on Lina's face, Bella's reluctant fingers just closing around the straps.
The line went quiet for a beat. "That's it," Liam said, and ended the call.
Daniel lowered the phone, his thumb hovering over the last image—the weary plea on Lina's face as she pushed her sandals into Bella's reluctant grasp.
He leaned back, the leather of his chair groaning softly. A deep, rolling dark satisfaction settled in his chest. Letting those alley trash have her would have been a crude, fleeting victory. This was a poison with a slow, relentless burn.
The crisp success of his move put him in an unusually agreeable mood. Deciding to capitalize on it, he left the office and drove to his grandmother's stately home.
The atmosphere in the mansion's morning room was thick with the scent of Earl Grey and expensive cologne. Daniel walked straight from the living room, across the hall's cool marble, and into the brighter passage that led toward the sunroom. He was nearly at its wide, arched doorway when he paused. Just beyond the threshold, his grandmother's clear and deliberate voice. Talking to Riley.
"And you're sure you don't have a special young man waiting for you back in Europe?" Grandma Viggo was asking, her voice sweet but her eyes sharp as talons.
Riley offered a shy, fluttering smile. "No, Grandma. There's no one."
"A woman's heart can have many rooms, darling," Riley grandma said, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She patted Riley's hand. "But the master suite should never stand empty for too long."
Riley demurred, looking down at her clasped hands. "I'm afraid it's just me and my sheet music."
Grandma Viggo leaned forward. "What about Daniel? You've always been so… attentive."
The question hung. Riley didn't speak. Instead, a flawless, rosy blush blossomed from her neck to her cheeks. It was an answer more potent than any vow. The two grandmothers—Daniel's and Riley's—exchanged a look of deep, satisfied understanding.
That's when Daniel made his presence known, walking into the room. "Getting tired of her?" he drawled, his voice cutting the thick air. All three women startled. "What's the matter? Trying to auction her off to the first bidder?"
His grandmother seized the moment, pulling Daniel aside by his arm with a surprising strength. "See? She's perfect for you. Well-mannered, from a good family, and she clearly adores you. When are you going to stop this foolishness and make her yours? A smart man recognizes an asset before someone else does."
Daniel opened his mouth to offer a placating, non-committal reply, but his phone buzzed in his pocket with the specific, insistent tone he reserved for urgent business. His grandmother's grip tightened, her eyes flashing a warning.
"Daniel, don't you dare," she hissed.
"I have to, Grandma. It's important." He pulled away, putting a few feet between them as he answered. He listened for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. "Okay. Handle it. I'll be there." He hung up.
He walked back to his grandmother, kissed her forehead. "Something's come up. I have to go."
His grandmother's face transformed from sweet disappointment to genuine irritation. "Who said you needed to accompany me in the first place? Go on, then. Run back to your empire." She waved a dismissive hand, her pride wounded.
The moment he was out of sight, the atmosphere in the sunroom shifted. The pretense of a casual chat evaporated.
Grandma Viggo turned to Riley, her gaze now direct and unflinching. "Alright, my dear. He's gone. Don't be shy. Do you have a foreign boyfriend, yes or no? And do you truly have feelings for my grandson?"
With the audience of one gone, Riley's performance became more earnest. The shyness was still there, but it was underscored by a thread of steel. "No, there is no one else," she said, her voice firm. "And yes, I like Daniel. I've liked him since we were children playing in your garden. It's always been him."
A slow, deeply pleased smile spread across the old woman's face. She reached out and patted Riley's hand. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear. Don't you worry about his cold exterior. I know my grandson. He feels the same way, he's just... stubborn. He needs a little push."
Riley's eyes glittered with triumphant joy. This was the whole reason for her visit, the entire purpose of her performance. She had secured the most powerful ally she could possibly have.
"I'm so glad you think so," she said, her voice dripping with sincere gratitude. "Well, I should be going too. I told some of my old friends from Eldrida I'd catch up with them."