Kate sat in front of the crystal - trimmed vanity, the soft golden bulbs around the beveled mirror casting a gentle glow on her flawless skin. The marble tabletop held rows of luxury perfumes, gold - plated brushes,and designer lipsticks - each one lined with precision. The chair beneath was velvet - lined,sleek,and low - backed, just like the ones in celebrity dressing rooms. Dabbing a cotton pad along her cheek, wiping away the last trace of foundation. Her makeup remover cooled her skin, but her eyes stayed fixed on the reflection — sharp cheekbones, perfectly lined lips, and beneath it all… a woman always calculating.
Behind her, Nick sat at the edge of their king-size bed, shirtless, dressed only in black silk trousers. His brows were furrowed as he scrolled through something on his tablet. The blue glow lit the sharp angles of his jaw, flickering across his slightly tensed face.
Kate turned slightly.
"What's wrong, love?" she asked, her voice low and sultry, yet laced with genuine curiosity.
Nick's eyes never left the screen.
"Something's not right with the company's data analysis. The numbers don't line up. I can feel it."
Kate gave a quiet sigh. She stood up from the vanity and moved toward him — slow, deliberate. Her silk nightdress clung to every curve of her body like it was painted on. Black lace traced the edge of her thighs, dipping low at the neckline and revealing just enough to tempt without trying.
She stepped between his legs and slowly let the strap of her nightdress slide from her shoulder. The silk fell in a whisper, pooling at her feet like liquid shadow.
Nick finally looked up.
Her body, bathed in the soft light, was a vision — toned, inviting, and radiating heat. She leaned into him, her hand grazing down his chest, her fingers dancing lightly over his abs.
"I can help you forget," she whispered, brushing her lips close to his ear. "Just for a little while. Let me give you what you really need tonight."
Nick's lips curved. "Honestly? That doesn't sound like a bad idea."
He placed the tablet aside and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Maybe this is the perfect time to make Sophia a big sister."
Kate laughed — a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down his spine.
Their lips met, softly at first, then deeper. He pulled her onto the bed, her body folding into his as the sheets rustled beneath them. The kiss turned hungry, urgent. His hand tangled in her hair, her nails trailing over his back. Their breaths came faster, matching the rhythm of the city outside — a world forgotten.
But just as the moment reached its height, a sharp ping echoed from the tablet on the nightstand.
Nick paused, chest rising and falling.
Kate groaned. "Really?"
He reached over, still breathing heavily, and tapped the screen. A single message glowed:
"You thought the past would stay buried. But graves don't hold secrets — they leak."
Nick's jaw clenched. The glow of satisfaction on his face disappeared instantly.
Kate sat up behind him, wrapping the sheet around herself as she leaned over his shoulder. "What is it?"
He hesitated. "Probably spam. Nothing."
But she saw the message. Her eyes narrowed, the teasing mood evaporating.
She snatched the tablet gently from his hands and read it again. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Who sent this, Nick?"
"I said it's probably nothing." He reached for the tablet, but she stepped away, the sheet dragging behind her like a ghost.
"That's not nothing," she said, heart thudding. "It feels... familiar."
Nick stood, running a hand through his hair. "Kate, relax. This isn't the first time someone's thrown anonymous threats. People love drama, especially after everything with Ally."
Kate froze.
Silence thickened in the room.
"You don't think…" she started, barely breathing.
Nick chuckled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "What, her ghost? Come on. We divorced her. She got hit. She's gone. That's the end of it."
Kate's face twisted into a mask of something between guilt and discomfort.
"You remember her funeral, don't you?" she asked. "The news, the photos, that poor girl lying there like a broken doll. I had to cry in front of cameras. I had to pretend I cared."
Nick turned to face her. "Pretending is what you're best at, Kate."
That made her smile, bitter and beautiful. "Well, it wasn't easy. I didn't even know who hit her. Maybe someone did her a favor. Still… watching her life collapse like that... it was exhausting."
Nick shrugged. "I just stayed quiet. Let people talk. The trick is to let the world write its own narrative — and then shape the version that sticks."
Kate returned to the bed slowly, lying back against the pillows. Her fingers played with the edge of the sheet.
"Well... may her soul rest in peace," she said softly.
Nick turned the tablet off and placed it on the nightstand.
But just as he slipped under the covers, Kate asked, "Speaking of Ally... who is this Samantha woman?"
Nick blinked. "Samantha?"
"Yeah," Kate replied. "The woman you bumped into at the mall. She looked expensive. Rich. Confident. She felt... dangerous."
Nick frowned. "Could be new to the city. Or maybe she's just another heiress pretending to be important."
He reached for the tablet again and typed quickly.
A news headline loaded on screen:
ELEVATE STRATEGIC GROUP ANNOUNCES $50 MILLION INVESTMENT INTO NEW YORK TECH SUMMIT
Details of project remain private. CEO identity unknown.
Nick stared at the number. Fifty million. That wasn't pocket change. Whoever ran Elevate was powerful — maybe more powerful than him.
"This company..." he muttered. "They're not small players. This is big money."
He tried scrolling through for more details, but the owner's name was blank. A faceless threat.
Kate rolled over, brushing her fingers against his chest. "Enough business, babe. It's 11:20. Come to bed. You've got Chloe meeting you tomorrow after her flight from Norway — you know how she gets when you look tired."
Nick nodded absentmindedly, still staring at the screen. "Right. Chloe."
He powered off the tablet and sank into the pillows.
Kate reached over and turned off the light. The room went dark.
But as the seconds passed, Nick didn't sleep.
He stared at the ceiling, the name "Samantha" circling his mind like smoke.
And in the distance — far from the luxury of their bed — something was already moving.
Something cold.
Something calculated.
And very, very familiar.