Page 167 of Money Reigns
Because she’s beside me.
Olivia.
Her hand rests in mine across the console, warm, steady. She doesn’t see the ghosts in the walls, the history pressed into stone. But I do.
And I’ve decided it’s hers now.
Just like everything else.
My chest tightens as we roll up the circular drive. Staff are already waiting—security at the perimeter, house manager by the door, even the chef in her whites. Their faces are polite masks, but I can feel the shift in the air.
They know.
They know she’s not just another guest.
I bring women to the yacht, to hotel suites with blacked-out windows and plush bedding. I fuck them. Use them. Toss them a gift and order them a ride share.
But I never bring them here.
This is the endgame.
And Olivia?
She’sthe one.
I step out first, buttoning my jacket, covering nerves I shouldn’t have. I’ve done deals with men who could kill me with a word. Stared down my father across tables sharper than knives. Never flinched.
But bringing Olivia here?
That makes my pulse hammer in a way nothing else does.
I circle to her side, open the door myself, and hold out my hand. “Olivia.”
She takes it, slipping out in that soft dress that clings in all the places I want to keep my hands. Her eyes go wide as she tilts her head back, taking in the mansion. “War… this is… wow.”
Her awe makes something break open in my chest.
“Welcome home,” I murmur.
Her gaze darts to me, startled. She laughs lightly, like she thinks I’m joking. But I’m not. Not even a little.
The staff line up as we enter the grand foyer. The marble gleams. The chandelier drips light like fire. Normally I hate it—too perfect, too cold.
But tonight, with her hand in mine, it feels right.
Like this place was waiting for her.
I lean down, voice low against her ear. “This house has been empty for years. Never meant anything to me. Until now.”
Her lips part, eyes wide, like she hears what I’m not saying.
I squeeze her hand, anchoring myself. “Let me show you what will one day be yours.”
The staff here, my chef, my groundskeeper, my house manager, even the night security, aren’t faceless names on a payroll. They’ve been with me for years. They know my tells, my moods, my silences. They’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real family.
And tonight, I’m bringing Olivia into that circle.
Which makes me more nervous than any Paris dinner ever could.
