Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Tap, tap, tap.
Maryah was immediately distracted by the way her husband looked so deliciously hot when he was in CEO mode, seated as he was behind his massive desk and dressed in a suit that did a wonderful job at emphasizing the impressive breadth of his shoulders.
Although they had already been married for a year, seeing him immediately put things aside to focus on her had her stomach making ridiculous little flips. How in the world did she ended up married to this man again?
She had this craziest urge to throw herself into his arms, but then she saw him arch his brow at her in question, and...ugh. Seeing this reminded her of the fact that Nicolo also happened to be her boss, and remembering this made her feel just a little...defensive.
“Before anything else—I want you to know that I ran this through the system multiple times.” Maryah hated how just saying the words had her squirming even though she was telling him the absolute truth. “I even had it rebooted. But nothing changed. The results were the same.”
Nicolo’s gaze bored through her, but she caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. The one that meant he was fighting not to smile.
Don’t be defensive, don’t be defensive.
But she still ended up sounding exactly that as she asked, “What?”
“You still haven’t told me what the problem is.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in that CEO pose that used to intimidate her, once upon a time. Now it just made her want to mess up his perfectly styled hair.
“I’m getting there.”
“And there would be what exactly?”
His voice was solemn, she’d give him that. But his choice of words made it seem like she was hedging. Which she wasn’t. Really!
“I just wanted to make sure you really understand first.”
“What am I to understand when I still don’t know what the trouble is?”
Maryah’s mouth opened and closed. “Um.” She tried to speak one more time, but when she only ended up opening and closing her mouth several times without a single word coming out—
I give up.
Maryah handed the result scores to her husband and found herself squirming on her feet once more as she watched him read in impassive silence.
“So...I know the math might not be mathing—”
Nicolo’s lips pressed together in a straight line. He now knew for sure that his wife was more stressed than she was willing to admit, to parrot words that could only have come from her assistant Ada. The girl was nice and funny, but she was also a scatterbrain that tended to cause Concord Agency more harm than help.
“But our system—” The rest of Maryah’s words died a quick death when Nicolo raised his head.
“Will do you me a favor, my love?”
Despite the dry amusement of her husband’s tone, the way he called her his love still had Maryah’s toes curling inside her shoes.
“Imagine if we had the Leopard King right here in our office,” he said silkily.
Maryah did just that...and it was not good. “I know the results aren’t what any of us expects, but our system is the most accurate one there is—”
“Then give me more numbers to support our results,” Nicolo said gently. “Or do you truly expect him to simply accept our word at face value when we say that the math is, er, mathing—”
Okay, she totally deserved that.
“—once we reveal that his highest compatibility rate is with the same woman he rejected six years ago?”
Six Years Ago
THE MATCHMAKING AGENCY occupied the top floor of a building that officially didn’t exist in any government registry. No directory listing downstairs. No name on the brass plate beside the private elevator. Just a small symbol etched into the metal: a crescent moon cradled by thorns that meant nothing to most of Athens’ population and everything to the select few who needed to know.
Inside, the waiting room looked more like a museum than a business. Ancient marble statues stood in alcoves, their faces turned away from each other as if keeping secrets. The furniture was dark wood that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, and the air held an odd quality. Too still, too heavy, like time moved differently within its walls.
Samira Hondros sat motionless in one of those dark chairs, her spine straight not from poise but from the kind of rigidity that came from years of consequence. Pale hands lay flat against the emerald fabric of her dress. She didn’t fidget. Didn’t adjust the auburn hair that fell past her shoulders. Her face remained blank, carefully empty, the expression of someone who had learned that showing nothing was safer than showing the wrong thing.
The temperature shifted before the door opened, a subtle drop that raised goosebumps along her arms.
The first to enter the room was surprisingly nondescript. He was neither tall nor powerfully built. He was just...a man. And yet he carried himself with an air of authority that was noticeable to everyone.