Chapter 5 - Breaking the Ice
The weekly dinner mandated by Nia took place in the grand dining room. For years, the long mahogany table had served as a symbol of the family's cold isolation, usually occupied only by Adrian drinking black coffee while reviewing financial reports.
Tonight, the setting was different.
There were no files, no laptops, and no phones. Sitting at the middle of the table were Adrian, Lucas, and Nia—whom Adrian had insisted join them as part of her recovery routine.
The meal was simple: grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a fresh salad, cooked by Lucas under the strict guidance of the estate chef.
Lucas awkwardly served the plates, placing a portion in front of his father before sitting down across from him.
"The chicken isn't burnt," Lucas muttered, looking at his napkin. " Chef helped with the seasoning."
Adrian cut a piece of the chicken, took a bite, and chewed slowly. He looked up, his expression unreadable for a moment before a genuine warmth filled his eyes.
"It's very good, Lucas," Adrian said quietly. "Thank you."
Lucas blinked, caught off guard by the simple praise. "It's just chicken."
"It's effort," Nia chimed in from her seat, raising her water glass. "And effort is where everything starts."
As the dinner progressed, the conversation was stiff at first. Adrian was used to commanding boardrooms, not making small talk with his son. But Nia acted as the bridge, asking questions about Lucas’s childhood, forcing Adrian to recall old memories.
"Remember the trip to Lake Michigan when you were seven?" Adrian asked, a small smile appearing. "You insisted on catching a fish with a plastic net."
Lucas let out a faint laugh—a genuine, light sound that hadn't echoed in the mansion for almost a decade. "I caught a shoe instead."
"And you insisted on keeping the shoe because you thought it belonged to a pirate," Adrian added, his eyes softening. "Your mother laughed so hard she nearly dropped the camera."
The mention of Elena usually triggered a violent withdrawal from Lucas. But tonight, surrounded by the warmth of the room and the calm presence of Nia, the memory didn't hurt as much. It felt... nostalgic.
"She kept that picture in her locket," Lucas whispered, looking down at his plate. "I miss her, Dad."
Adrian paused, setting his fork down. He looked across the table at his son, seeing the broken child behind the angry exterior.
"I miss her every single day, son," Adrian confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "And my biggest failure was hiding from that pain by diving into work, leaving you to fight it alone. I thought if I gave you everything money could buy, you wouldn't feel the loss. I was wrong."
Lucas looked up, eyes glistening. "I thought you didn't care. I thought you just saw me as a disappointment."
"You are my son," Adrian said fiercely, leaning across the table. "You could never be a disappointment to me unless you gave up on yourself. What happened with Darren... with your debt... I already knew about it."
Lucas gasped. "You knew?"
"Thomas found the note," Adrian explained. "I was going to handle it the way I handle everything—with force and money. But Nia stopped me. She told me you needed to stand up to it yourself. And today, you did."
Lucas looked at Nia, a deep sense of gratitude washing over him. "You trusted me not to fold?"
"I knew you were arrogant," Nia smiled warmly, "but I also knew you weren't a coward. There's a big difference."
The ice that had frozen the Mercer family for eight long years was finally beginning to melt.
Later that night, after Lucas had retired to his room to finish his reading, Adrian walked Nia back to her guest suite. He walked slowly, matching her crutch-assisted pace.
"You're a miracle worker, Nia," Adrian said as they reached her door. "I haven't heard him laugh like that since he was twelve."
"He's a good kid underneath the armor, Mr. Mercer," Nia replied. "He just needed someone to set boundaries without abandoning him."
Adrian looked down at her, his dark eyes intense, filled with an emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. He reached out, his hand gently lingering near hers on the grip of her crutch.
"Call me Adrian," he said softly. "Please."
Nia’s heart skipped a beat. The powerful, feared boss of Chicago’s South Side was looking at her not as an employee, but as a woman who had fundamentally changed his life.
"Adrian," she whispered, the name feeling rich and heavy on her tongue.
"Get some rest, Nia," he said quietly, bowing his head slightly before turning to walk down the hall.
May you like
Nia stepped into her room, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, her pulse racing. She had come to this house to work, to pay off her debts, and to build her future.
She hadn't planned on falling for the house, the family... or the man at the center of it all.
