Chapter 18 - The Quiet Dinner
When I stepped into the penthouse kitchen, the tension of the warden's call still echoed faintly in the back of my mind, but the sight waiting for me immediately washed it away. Norah was standing by the stove, humming softly while stirring a simmering pot of homemade tomato soup. The kitchen windows were slightly fogged from the steam, and the warm yellow lighting cast a cozy, inviting glow across the marble countertops.
She turned around as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin comfortably on her shoulder. She didn't ask why I was working late, and she didn't probe for corporate secrets. Instead, she simply leaned back into my embrace, turning her head to press a gentle kiss against my cheek.
"You're home early for a Friday night," Norah noted, smiling as she turned down the burner. "Is the corporate world finally running smoothly without your constant supervision?"
"The corporate world is running itself," I murmured, burying my face in her hair, breathing in the comforting scent of vanilla and fresh basil. "I decided my time was much better spent here."
We sat down at the small dining table a few minutes later, sharing a quiet, unhurried meal. For years, my dinners had been transactional affairs—meetings with corrupt politicians, tense negotiations with rival syndicate leaders, or lonely, silent meals accompanied only by the glow of computer screens and expensive bourbon. Now, sitting across from Norah in our warm, softly lit penthouse, I realized how empty my multi-million-dollar empire had truly been before she walked into it.
"Nico," Norah said softly, breaking the quiet rhythm of our conversation as she set her spoon down and looked across the table with searching, intelligent eyes. "You've been carrying something heavy today. I can see it in your shoulders. You can talk to me, you know. You don't have to protect me from the hard things anymore."
I looked at her, realizing once again how impossible it was to hide anything from the woman who knew every contour of my soul. I didn't mention Rostov or the prison phone call—those ghosts belonged to a cemetery I had buried forever. Instead, I reached across the table, taking her soft hand in mine.
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"I was just thinking about how much I love this," I said quietly, my voice entirely devoid of its usual armor. "I spent my whole life believing that love was a liability, something enemies used to find your blind spot. But sitting here with you... I realize it's the only real strength I've ever had."
Norah’s eyes softened, a bright, beautiful smile blooming across her face as she squeezed my hand tightly. "It took you long enough to figure it out," she teased gently.
