Page 109 of The CEO

“Our empire.” I press my lips to her forehead. “And how much stronger it has become with you by my side.”

Her smile holds a predatory edge that matches my own. “Chicago isn’t going to know what hit it when we return.”

* * *

Our private jet cuts through clouds as Chicago’s skyline emerges in the distance. Eve sits across from me in the leather seat, a contented smile playing on her lips as she gazes out the window.

“Glad to be home?” I ask, studying the way the fading sunlight catches in her hair.

“Surprisingly, yes.” She turns to me, eyes bright with something I’ve never seen before: peace. “The honeymoon was paradise, but Eden is ours.”

I reach for her hand, running my thumb over her wedding ring. “I never thought I’d share my kingdom.”

“And yet here we are.” Her smile turns knowing, challenging. “The ruthless CEO with a wife he can’t control.”

“I wouldn’t want to control you.” The admission comes easily now, a truth I’ve finally embraced. “Your independence is what makes you perfect.”

The jet touches down smoothly, and Foster waits beside the black SUV on the tarmac.

“Sir. Ma’am.” He nods to each of us. “Welcome home.”

“Good to be back, Foster.” Eve’s easy familiarity with The Skull still surprises me. The man who rarely speaks to anyone converses freely with her—another testament to her quiet power.

The drive to Eden passes in comfortable silence, with Eve’s head resting on my shoulder as Chicago glides by outside our tinted windows.

“I was thinking about planting a garden,” she says suddenly, her voice soft against my chest.

“You have the entire greenhouse at your disposal.”

She laughs. “Not deadly flowers. Vegetables, herbs. Something that nourishes instead of harms.”

“That sounds lovely. Something we can do together?”

“Of course.”

The gates of Eden open as we approach, welcoming us home to our private kingdom.

“Home at last,” she murmurs as Foster parks at the entrance.

“Get settled,” I tell her, brushing my lips against her temple. “I’ll be in the greenhouse.”

She nods, understanding my need for ritual. “I’ll unpack and shower. Find you afterward.”

I watch her ascend the stairs, still marveling that she chose this life—chose me—despite knowing the darkness that lives in my soul. Every day, she surprises me with her strength, her adaptability, her unwavering moral compass that somehow accommodates my particular brand of justice.

The greenhouse welcomes me back, and instantly, my soul is at ease. I move through the rows of my deadly collection, checking each specimen with practiced care.

As darkness falls outside, the greenhouse lights cast an ethereal glow over my rare blooms. I roll up my sleeves, losing myself in the careful pruning and watering of my most precious possessions. This has always been my sanctuary—the place where I find peace amid the violence and control that define the rest of my life.

“There you are.” Eve’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She stands in the doorway, hair damp from her shower, wearing a simple sundress that makes her look impossibly young and pure—a stark contrast to the woman who now helps me deliver justice to the corrupt.

“Come in.” I set aside my pruning shears, wiping my hands on a cloth. “I was just reacquainting myself with my other deadly beauties.”

“None as deadly as me, I hope.” She moves through the greenhouse with graceful confidence, no longer intimidated by the poisonous plants that surround us. In fact, she’s learned to identify most of them, understanding their properties and uses with the same meticulous attention she brings to her investigations.

“None as beautiful, certainly.” I pull her into my arms, inhaling the clean scent of her skin. “Feeling at home?”

“More than ever.” She nestles against me, fingers tracing the tattoo visible through my partially-unbuttoned shirt. “I unpacked our wedding photos. Thought we might frame one for your office.”

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