Chapter 5 - The Weight of the Crown
For three days, the brownstone on East 73rd Street became the war room of the Carter syndicate.
While rain continued to fall over New York, Andrew systematically dismantled Victor Romano’s empire from his desk. Using the financial data provided by Cindy, Andrew launched a series of aggressive economic strikes—buying up Romano’s bank debts, freezing his shell company accounts, and tipping off federal agents to dockside shipments of unlicensed weapons.
Cindy refused to stay in bed.
She set up her laptop on the large mahogany desk beside Andrew's, her fingers flying across the keys as she managed the legitimate transfers that were starving Romano of cash.
Working side by side, the artificial barrier between boss and assistant began to evaporate entirely.
On the third evening, around midnight, Andrew closed his laptop and rubbed his tired eyes. The study was quiet, illuminated only by the fire.
Cindy was sitting on the rug near the hearth, reviewing a stack of printouts, her legs tucked beneath her. The firelight played across her soft features, highlighting the pale scar near her hairline.
Andrew stood up, walked over, and sat down on the rug beside her.
She looked up, surprised. "We still have the quarterly logistics report for the Rotterdam port—"
Andrew gently took the papers from her hand and set them on the floor. "The Rotterdam port can wait."
Cindy held her breath as Andrew reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing softly across her skin.
"Why didn't you tell me about David before?" Andrew asked quietly. "When you came to work with bruises on your wrist six months ago?"
Cindy dropped her gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Because I was ashamed, Andrew. I thought I was smart enough to handle my own life. I thought if you saw how messy my personal life was, you’d fire me."
"Fire you?" Andrew let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "Cindy, you are the only reason this company hasn't fallen apart. You are the only person in this city who looks at me and doesn't see a monster."
Cindy raised her eyes, looking directly into his face. "I've seen what you do to your enemies, Andrew. I know who you are."
"And you aren't afraid of me?"
"I’m only afraid of being without you," she admitted softly, her voice trembling with raw honesty.
The admission hung in the warm air between them like a physical spark.
Andrew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, closing the distance, and pressed his lips against hers.
The kiss began with restrained gentleness—a quiet, reverent worship of the woman he had loved from afar for three long years. But as Cindy let out a small, breathless gasp and wrapped her arms around his neck, the restraint snapped.
Andrew pulled her flush against his body, his large hand cupping the back of her waist, deepening the kiss with a fierce, hungry passion that made her head spin.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together in the dim firelight.
"Tomorrow," Andrew whispered against her lips, "I am taking you out of the city. To Haven Ridge."
May you like
"Haven Ridge?" she echoed softly.
"My estate upstate," Andrew explained, his hand cupping her jaw with absolute devotion. "My mother is there. I want you to meet her. And I want you where Romano can never touch you while I finish this."
