Chapter 13: Bitter & Sweet

​Kendra kicked off her six-inch designer heels the moment the penthouse doors closed behind them, letting them clatter loudly against the marble floor. She was holding her tablet, her eyes locked on the screen with a smug, victorious grin.

​"Look at this, darling!" Kendra squealed, holding the screen up to Julian's face. "The Monaco daily print caught us by the harbor. They called me a 'mysterious, classic American beauty.' They didn't even mention that boring socialite crowd from last night."

​Julian smiled, though his eyes remained cool. "Of course they did, my love. You outshone everyone on the Riviera today."

​Kendra giggled, completely charmed. She tossed the tablet onto the plush velvet sofa, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. She leaned in, pressing her lips to his, her touch becoming eager and demanding. She wanted to slip his linen shirt off his shoulders, wanting to pull him toward the massive king bed in the next room.

​But Julian gently caught her wrists, slowly pulling her hands away from his neck. He gave her a soft, apologetic look.

​"Not right now, sweetheart," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I have a headache from the sun, and I need to make a few calls for our yacht excursion later this week. Why don't you go through that gorgeous shopping haul of yours?"

​Kendra’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She felt a brief flash of annoyance, wanting to question why he was suddenly so distant, but the mention of her shopping bags quickly distracted her.

​"Fine," she huffed playfully, patting his cheek. "But you owe me later."

​She bounced over to the pile of luxury shopping bags, completely oblivious to the cold, calculating look Julian gave her back as he stepped onto the balcony to check his phone.

​Across the ocean, the kitchen of the Kingsley estate was quiet, filled with the rich, savory aroma of garlic, white wine, and fresh herbs. Avery hummed softly to herself as she plated a dish of fresh lemon-herb sea bass. Cooking had always been her therapy, the one hobby that truly grounded her when the world felt like it was spinning out of control.

​Damien walked in, his cane lightly tapping the tiled floor. He had discarded his tie, his collar open, looking incredibly relaxed.

​"The kitchen smells divine," Damien noted, his deep voice slicing through the quiet room. He tilted his head. "What did the chef prepare for us tonight?"

​Avery cleared her throat, quickly trying to smooth over her lie. "Oh, the chef made a pan-seared sea bass with a light lemon sauce. He... well, actually, I told him he could take the evening off. He works so hard every day, and I thought I could relieve him of his duties tonight."

​Damien hid his amusement. His private security had already informed him that she had spent the last two hours in the kitchen, humming and slicing vegetables herself. The real Kendra wouldn't know how to boil water, let alone cook a gourmet meal to give the staff a break.

​"How incredibly charitable of you, Kendra," Damien murmured, letting Marcus guide him to his seat at the dining table. "I didn't realize you cared so much about the kitchen staff's well-being."

​"Everyone deserves a break," Avery said softly, sitting opposite him and placing a plate in front of him.

​They ate in relative silence for a few moments. Avery watched him navigate the plate with practiced, elegant ease. Finally, she decided to slip into her Kendra persona to ask the question that had been keeping her up.

​"So, Switzerland," Avery said, her tone suddenly turning a bit more demanding and spoiled. "Why are we honeymooning in Zurich of all places? You didn't even ask me where I wanted to go. A real husband would have taken his wife to Paris or the Maldives, not some cold clinic in the mountains."

​Damien took a slow sip of his water, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "It is a business trip, Kendra. But I chose Zurich because I know your favorite designer flagship stores are all lined up on the Bahnhofstrasse. I figured while I am stuck in my tedious board meetings, I could let you splurge my money there to your heart's content."

​Avery quieted instantly. The prospect of unlimited shopping was exactly what Kendra would want to hear. She forced a pleased hum. "Well, I suppose that makes up for it. I will need a whole new wardrobe for the Alps."

​"Spend whatever you like," Damien said smoothly.

​They finished their dinner in silence, Avery feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering guilt.

​After dinner, Marcus quietly approached Damien, lightly tapping him on the shoulder and whispered. "Sir, the study is ready. Your call from the private investigator has just come through."

​Damien stood up, nodding. He let Marcus guide him down the long, dimly lit hallway of the west wing and into the quiet sanctuary of his study. Once the heavy oak door clicked shut, Marcus handed him the secure receiver.

​"What do you have, Victor?" Damien asked, leaning back in his leather chair.

​"Sir, the Vance family's financial situation is far worse than we initialed estimated," Victor reported over the encrypted line. "Our sources inside their creditor bank say Collin Vance is on the verge of a total liquidation. He is absolutely desperate for the Kingsley transaction to clear. According to our taps, they are in a state of near panic, trying to figure out how to force your hand."

​Damien’s lips parted into a slow, sharp grin. The dark study was silent, save for the hum of the secure line.

​"Let them panic," Damien murmured, his voice dripping with cold satisfaction. "In fact, tell the legal team to slow-walk the audit even further. I want Collin Vance sweating."

​"And your wife, sir?"

​"She is the key," Damien said, his grin widening. "If they are this desperate, they will start putting pressure on her. Let’s see how she behaves when her family starts squeezing her. Switzerland will be the perfect stage for this little drama to unfold."

​He hung up the phone, staring into the darkness of the room, fully prepared to play his hand.