When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

Nathaniel did not rush her away. He stayed until every loose thread at Jamieson Group was knotted tight, and only then boarded the plane at her side.

At Tudela Airport, Charlotte had been pacing the arrivals hall long before the flight landed.

"Cecilia!" she called, waving both arms the instant she spotted them.

Cecilia slipped her hand free of Nathaniel's, dashed across the polished floor, and wrapped Charlotte in an embrace fierce enough to chase off the lingering chill of cemeteries and boardrooms alike.

Nathaniel's hands were suddenly empty. He watched Cecilia and Charlotte lean into each other, laughter and whispered confidences circling them like warm light. Jealousy pricked the back of his throat-sharp, metallic, impossible to swallow.

Cecilia angled toward Charlotte, her voice gentling. "How've you been holding the company together on your own lately?"

Charlotte lifted her chin in a quick, brave nod. "Pretty good, actually-nothing I couldn't manage."

Cecilia's smile eased some hidden tension. "That's a relief."

Hooking her arm through Cecilia's, Charlotte sighed. "While you were away, every single day stretched forever."

Time had crawled not only because Cecilia was gone, but because Sven's absence pressed on her like a weight she could not name.

Once they were inside the car, Cecilia caught the shadow in Charlotte's eyes. "Sven's still texting you, right?"

Charlotte's shoulders dipped. She clenched her fists before speaking.

she managed. "But these past few days-nothing. I've

like him," Cecilia murmured, worry cutting through

A small knot of

tightened in Cecilia's chest.

happened to him, do you?" Charlotte's voice

she did not

palms were damp. "Maybe that's the problem-someone with skills like his makes too many enemies." Nights had grown long,

have someone look

whispered, as though the

rest entirely, phoning every contact she trusted to

calls returned yet no

her for years. She'd never doubted him, never pried into

been ordinary, records should exist. The silence suggested

field when

work, months

answered at

news about Mdm. Queenie's passing," Calvin said, his tone familiar and steady. "Are you

learned of the tragedy from a headline, days after it happened—distance doing nothing

closed Cecilia's throat, yet she kept

your time to grieve," Calvin urged gently. "Don't

know." She hesitated, then asked, "It's been ages since we talked. How