Chapter 5 - Living with the Boss
Three days passed inside the Brookline fortress.
Penny quickly learned that living with Matthew Cole was nothing like she had imagined. He wasn't a raving maniac who barked orders at terrified servants. He was quiet, incredibly disciplined, and ruthlessly efficient.
He woke up at five every morning, worked out in his private gym for two hours, and spent his days in a high-tech control room managing a vast network of legal and illegal enterprises.
And yet, every evening at seven, he sat down at the grand dining table to eat dinner with her.
"You aren't eating your vegetables," Matthew noted on Sunday night, cutting into a prime ribeye steak.
Penny looked down at her plate of roasted asparagus. She was wearing a soft emerald-green silk dress Matthew’s staff had delivered for her—one of dozens of custom-tailored outfits that actually fitted her full hips and broad chest perfectly without pinching.
"I don't like asparagus," Penny said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes instead. "It tastes like dirt."
Matthew’s lips twitched. "It’s organic."
"It's dirty grass," she corrected firmly.
Liam, standing near the doorway, let out a muffled cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Matthew shot him a glance, and Liam immediately regained his stone-faced posture.
"You seem remarkably comfortable in a mob house, Penny," Matthew observed, leaning back in his leather chair, watching her.
"I grew up in a house with three older brothers and a mother who worked two jobs," Penny said, her hazel eyes meeting his. "I know what real chaos looks like. You just have better security and nicer plates."
Matthew’s gaze softened. "Tell me about your mother."
For the next hour, Penny found herself talking. She talked about Evelyn’s quick wit before the illness, about how hard her mother had worked to keep them afloat, and about how terrifying it was watching someone you love slowly lose their memories.
Matthew listened without interrupting once. For a man who ran an empire built on violence, his quiet attention felt like the safest place in the world.
"My father died when I was twelve," Matthew shared quietly when she finished. "In this business, weakness is fatal. I spent twenty years making sure no one could ever touch anything I cared about."
He looked at her across the candlelit table, his eyes dark and heavy with an emotion that made Penny’s heart hammer against her ribs.
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"And now?" Penny asked softly.
"Now," Matthew said, stepping around the table and offering her his hand, "I have a problem. Because the only thing I care about right now is sitting across from me, arguing about asparagus."
