Chapter 6: The Weight of the Crown
The drive back from the Saffron Auction felt different. The silence inside the Maybach was no longer cold; it was charged, vibrating with the unspoken words between them. The Vance Sapphire sat heavy against Evelyn's collarbone, a blue fire that seemed to pulse in time with her quickening heartbeat.
Killian sat beside her, his gaze fixed on the window, but his hand remained mere inches from hers on the leather seat. The air was thick with the scent of his cologne and the lingering adrenaline of the auction floor. Every time the car banked a turn, their shoulders brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through Evelyn that made her grip her clutch tighter.
Just as the villa's gates swung open, the sharp, insistent chime of Killian's encrypted phone shattered the mood.
He pulled it from his pocket, his brow furrowing as he read the notification. His jaw tightened, the muscles working under his skin. "Damn it," he hissed.
"Is something wrong?" Evelyn asked, her voice dropping the stutter for a moment in her genuine concern.
"A coordinated hit on the European exchange," Killian said, his voice a low growl. "Marcus is desperate. He's trying to force a liquidity freeze while the board is still reeling from the gala. I have to go to the tower. Now."
The car came to a screeching halt in front of the villa's glass entrance. Killian turned to Evelyn, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of her neck, his thumb grazing the skin just above the sapphire necklace.
The heat of his palm was staggering. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed down to the space between them.
"Maria!" Killian shouted as the front door opened.
The maid appeared instantly. "Yes, Mr. Thorne?"
"Take care of her," Killian commanded, his gaze never leaving Evelyn's. "She is not to leave this house. She is to be fed, rested, and protected. If so much as a hair on her head is harmed while I'm gone, I'll hold you personally responsible."
He leaned in closer to Evelyn, his face inches from hers. "Stay put, Evelyn. Don't wander. I'll be back when the fire is out."
Before she could respond, he was gone, the car roaring back down the driveway before the gates had even fully closed.
The Silent Strategist
"This way, Madam," Maria said, her tone respectful but firm. "I've prepared a light meal for you in your suite."
Evelyn followed her, but her mind was already miles away at Thorne Tower. She knew exactly what Marcus was doing. It wasn't just a liquidity freeze; it was a DDOS attack disguised as a market fluctuation. Killian was walking into a trap he couldn't see because he was looking at the ledger, not the code.
Once Maria left her alone, Evelyn didn't go to the meal. She stripped off the midnight-blue velvet dress, the heavy fabric falling to the floor in a heap. She kept the sapphire on it felt like a talisman now. She threw on a silk robe and grabbed the tablet Killian had given her.
She sat on the balcony, the salt spray of the ocean hitting her face, and vanished into the digital world.
Oracle login: Authorized.
She bypassed the tower's primary security and slipped into the R&D servers. She saw the attack in real-time. It was beautiful in its cruelty a cascading failure designed to look like a natural market crash.
"Not on my watch," she whispered.
She didn't just block the attack. She began to 'ghost' the Thorne accounts, moving the assets into a temporary, encrypted loop that made the company look bankrupt to the hackers, while the actual value remained untouched.
As she worked, she tapped into the CCTV of Killian's private office.
She saw him. He had stripped off his tie and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt. He was pacing, shouting into a phone, his face a mask of exhaustion and fury. He looked like a man fighting a ghost.
Evelyn's heart ached. She wanted to reach through the screen and tell him it was handled. Instead, she opened a secure chat window on his private terminal.
[USER: ORACLE]
[MESSAGE: STOP PACING, THORNE. LOOK AT YOUR SECONDARY LEDGER. THE MONEY ISN'T GONE; IT'S HIDDEN. I'VE RE-ROUTED THE TRAFFIC THROUGH THE CAYMAN LOOPHOLE MARCUS USED LAST MONTH. HE'S ACCIDENTALLY FUNDING YOUR RECOVERY.]
On the screen, Killian froze. He stared at his monitor, his eyes widening. He lunged for the keyboard, typing back: Who are you? Why are you in my house and my company?
Evelyn smiled, a sharp, dangerous glint in her eyes.
[MESSAGE: I'M THE ONLY PARTNER YOU CAN TRUST. NOW FINISH HIM.]
The Return
Hours passed. The moon climbed high over the Pacific, casting a silver path across the water. Evelyn was exhausted, her eyes burning from the screen, but she didn't stop until she saw the final red line turn green on the Thorne exchange.
She had just saved him fifty billion dollars.
She was nearly asleep on the outdoor lounge chair when the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the villa.
Heavy, hurried footsteps pounded up the stairs. Evelyn barely had time to hide the tablet under a cushion before her bedroom door was thrown open.
Killian stood there. He looked wrecked. His hair was a mess, his shirt was wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot. But he was radiant with a dark, triumphant energy.
He didn't say a word. He strode across the room, the air seemingly vibrating around him. He grabbed the arms of her chair, leaning over her, trapping her in the scent of rain and expensive tobacco.
"You," he breathed.
Evelyn looked up, her glasses slipping slightly. "M-Mr. Thorne? Is everything okay? You look..."
"The company is saved," he interrupted, his voice a low, rough shadow of itself. "Marcus is ruined. The board is calling for his resignation as we speak."
He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of the sapphire necklace. His touch was electric, his skin hot against hers. He looked at her as if he were trying to see through her soul.
"Oracle saved me again," he whispered, his face descending toward hers. "They knew things only someone in this house could know. They knew about the Cayman loophole."
Evelyn's heart was drumming a frantic, terrified rhythm against her ribs. "I... I don't know what that is, sir. I've just been here... waiting for you."
Killian didn't pull away. He leaned closer, his nose brushing hers. The tension in the room was a physical weight, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to move. He looked down at her lips, his gaze heavy and darkened with a hunger that had nothing to do with business.
"You're a terrible liar, Evelyn," he murmured, his hand sliding into her hair, his fingers tangling in the loose strands.
The heat between them was explosive. For a heartbeat, she thought he was going to kiss her to demand the truth with his lips instead of his words.
"Killian..." she whispered, the use of his first name making him pause.
He stared at her, his chest heaving. The Ice King was gone; in his place was a man who was dangerously close to losing his mind over a girl he couldn't figure out.
Suddenly, he pulled back, his jaw tight. He stood up, smoothing his shirt with trembling hands.
"Get some sleep," he said, his voice strained. "Tomorrow, everything changes. The press will be here at noon. You're no longer just a contract wife, Evelyn. You're the woman who stands beside the man who owns this city."
He turned and walked out, but he stopped at the door, looking back one last time.
"And keep the necklace on," he commanded. "It suits you."
Evelyn watched the door close, her whole body trembling. She reached under the cushion and pulled out the tablet.
Chapter 6 closed, she thought, her eyes shining in the dark. And the King has no idea he's falling for the Ghost.