Chapter 5 - The Penthouse Cage
The Lake Shore Drive penthouse was less of an apartment and more of a glass fortress suspended above the blue waters of Lake Michigan.
The interior was decorated in minimalist shades of charcoal, slate, and brushed brass. Tall floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of the city skyline, while quiet, immaculate housekeepers moved through the halls like ghosts.
By Friday evening, Emma had settled into the east wing guest suite—a massive room featuring a king-sized bed, a private balcony, and a walk-in closet that had already been filled with three racks of high-end designer clothing delivered by Matteo’s personal shoppers.
Emma stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the zipper of a striking emerald-green silk evening dress. Tonight was their first official public appearance as an engaged couple: the annual Chicago Business Leadership Gala at the Drake Hotel.
A soft knock sounded at her bedroom door.
“Come in,” Emma called out.
The door opened, and Matteo stepped inside.
Emma felt her breath hitch slightly. He was wearing a classic black tuxedo, his white shirt crisp against his bronzed skin, his dark hair combed back flawlessly. He looked devastatingly handsome—the kind of dangerous, imposing male that commanded instant silence whenever he entered a room.
Matteo stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes swept over her.
The emerald dress hugged her waist perfectly, plunging into a subtle V-neckline before falling into a floor-length silk skirt. Her hair fell in soft, dark waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a bold, elegant crimson.
For three long seconds, Matteo didn't say a word. His intense gaze lingered on her collarbone, then drifted down to her waist before returning to her eyes.
“You look...” Matteo began, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. He paused, clearing his throat slightly. “You look remarkably fitting for the role, Miss Collins.”
Emma let out a small, amused huff. “High praise coming from you, Mr. Romano. Is the car waiting?”
“It is,” Matteo said, stepping closer. He reached into his tuxedo jacket pocket and pulled out a velvet-lined black jewelry box. He clicked it open.
Inside rested a breathtaking ring.
In the center sat a flawless, three-carat oval-cut dark blue sapphire, surrounded by a delicate halo of brilliant white diamonds, set on a platinum band.
Emma gasped, her hand instinctively flying to her throat. “Matteo... this is...”
“My grandmother’s ring,” Matteo said softly, taking the ring out of the velvet lining. “My mother insisted you wear it tonight. She said a simple diamond wouldn't match your fire.”
He stepped directly in front of her, the rich scent of his sandalwood cologne and crisp linen filling her senses. He picked up her left hand. His fingers were large, warm, and slightly calloused as he slid the cool platinum band onto her ring finger.
The ring fit perfectly.
Emma stared at her hand, her heart doing a strange, fluttering flip inside her chest. “It’s heavy.”
“It carries seventy years of history,” Matteo murmured, his thumb lightly stroking the back of her hand for a brief second before he let go. “Try not to lose it at the bar.”
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Emma looked up, meeting his warm amber eyes. “I don't lose things, Matteo.”
“Good,” he whispered, offering his arm to her. “Because tonight, the wolves are going to try to take pieces off both of us.”
