Page 22 of Cage the Storm
Laurent isn’t wrong; this kitchen has run seamlessly under his control. But this is also about maintaining an edge in every aspect of our operations. And Nico never makes a move without a reason.
I feel the uncertainty hanging in the air between Nico and Laurent. This isn’t a battle either of them will back down from, but Laurent shouldn’t be caught in the middle either. Is this really about the suppliers or about questioning my decisions?
“Let’s talk privately,” I command. It’s not a request, and Nico knows it.
“Laurent, we’ll continue this discussion later,” he says, dismissing him without breaking eye contact.
Laurent collects the papers in front of him with practiced ease. He’s holding his tongue out of respect, but I don’t miss the rigidity in his movements as he steps away, along with his staff, leaving Nico and me alone in the kitchen.
“You want to change suppliers,” I say once the door swings shut behind Laurent. “Why?”
I square my shoulders, refusing to back down. He asked me to take a role in this house, to step in and make decisions alongside Laurent. And now, on my first day, he’s undermining me, throwing doubt on everything before I’ve even had a chance to prove myself. That’s not just frustrating. It’s infuriating.
“You wanted me hands-on. Trusted me to make decisions with Laurent, to understand how this place runs, and make adjustments where necessary. But now, on day one, you’re stepping in and cutting me off before I even begin.”
Nico watches me, impassive as ever, but I don’t stop.
“Not that long ago, you reprimanded me for doing the same damn thing you just did to me. Am I right?” I continue before losing my nerve. “If you want me involved, they need to respect my authority. Respect comes with consistency and trust. If you contradict me now, you’re telling them I don’t hold any power here.”
If he wants me to be more than just a title, then he needs to let me be one. And I won’t stand here and let him make me look like a fool.
“It wasn’t about undermining you, Luna,” he says. “It was about sending a message. To Laurent, to you, to everyone in this house.”
I narrow my eyes, refusing to let his calm tone pacify me. “And what message was that? That I’m not capable of making decisions? Does my authority not matter?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NICOLAI
“Your authority does matter, Luna,”I say, meeting her gaze. “It’s the reason I suggested this to you. I wanted my message to be loud and clear that nothing in this house is untouchable. Not Laurent’s kitchen, not our suppliers, and certainly not me. If I step in, it’s because I see a weakness. And weaknesses, no matter how small, don’t go unnoticed. They get exploited.”
There’s a passion in her gaze, and I can feel the magnitude of her challenge. I know Luna has this fire in her, it’s one of the reasons I admire her, but seeing it turned on me is something else entirely.
“And what about trust?” She demands, refusing to back down. “If you want me in this role, let me earn it. You can’t keep stepping in and cutting me off before I can prove myself.”
I watch her, the slight lift of her chin, the way her shoulders stay back even with all of the tension between us. She’s upset, and I get why. But this isn’t just about frustration. It’s about how we will work together from here on out.
“You’re right,” I say. “This was a test. For Laurent. For you. And next time, I trust you won’t need me stepping in.”
She doesn’t falter, and I can see the tenacity in her eyes. She’s considering my words. Luna never takes anything at face value,and I wouldn’t want her to. That’s what makes her dangerous in the best way possible.
“You trust me, but only when it suits you.” She’s not wrong. Trust in this world comes with a price. But Luna isn’t the type to crumble when things get hard. She’s the kind who stands her ground, who meets pressure head-on. And she just proved that to me tenfold.
I turn away first, breaking her gaze as I refocus on the matter at hand. Control is a delicate balance; today, Luna has proven she’s more than ready to play her part.
I stride down the hall, letting the hostility roll off my shoulders. This was just the beginning—for her, for me, for the balance of power we’re navigating. I see it as a reminder that every move in this house and every decision must fall into place seamlessly. And whether she likes it or not, I’ll ensure that happens.
I hear the subtle click of her heels against the marble floor before she catches up to me, her fingers curling around my arm firmly enough to halt my stride. I could keep walking, could ignore her heated glare, but I don’t. Not because she demands it, but because she deserves it.
“You don’t get to walk away,” she argues. “You trusted me to step into this role, yet you override me at the first chance you get. You’re mistaken if you think that’s how this will work.”
She’s furious, and rightly so, but fury alone doesn’t move me; it’s the conviction behind it that’s important.
“This isn’t about trust,” I reply, calm but firm. “It’s about control. About making sure Laurent, the staff, and even you understand that nothing runs without oversight.”
“If you want me to do this, let me do my job,” she counters. “And if you can’t do that, tell me now, because I won’t play at power if I don’t have any.”
She’s right.
