Chapter 9

Noah reached into his pocket and produced a matte black debit card, placing it on the coffee table alongside a small slip of paper. "This card is for you," he said, his voice flat and professional. "The PIN is written right there. Use this card for all household expenses. I'll transfer a set amount into the account every month, but I expect you to keep track of the spending." Chloe paused, her hand hovering over a stray cushion she had been straightening. She looked from the card to Noah, noting the guarded tension in his shoulders and the sharp, calculating look in his eyes. He wasn't offering a gift; he was issuing a corporate budget with a warning attached. The irritation she'd been suppressed since their morning encounter flared. She pushed the card and the paper back toward him without so much as a glance at the numbers. "I live here too, Noah," she said, her voice firm. "I'm already saving a fortune on rent by moving in. I can't let you handle every single expense. I'll handle what's necessary for the day-to-day." Noah's brow furrowed. He was used to people taking what he offered—usually asking for more before the first check had even cleared. "It's a large house. The upkeep alone—" "If an item costs more than two thousand dollars, I'll discuss it with you first," Chloe interrupted, setting the threshold with practical finality. "In those cases, you can contribute. Otherwise, I have my own income." Noah leaned back, his gaze narrowing. He had more money than he could easily count and an extensive portfolio of assets across the city, most of which he was too busy to ever see. He was cautious by nature, especially with a woman he still viewed as potentially scheming, yet her blunt refusal to touch his money didn't fit the profile of a gold-digger. "You should at least consider a car," Noah suggested, shifting his approach. "It would be more convenient for your commute and save you time. Dealing with the elements on a bike isn't sustainable." Chloe smoothed out her shirt, a faint, proud smile touching her lips. "I prefer my bike. It's reliable, and it keeps me active. I don't mind the ride." "I want to ensure you're comfortable," Noah said, his tone softening slightly. "I don't want you overloaded with expenses you shouldn't have to carry alone." "I manage my finances well," Chloe countered. She thought of the long hours spent balancing ledgers in the back of her shop, the years of saving every penny to ensure her business survived. "I built my shop from the ground up, Noah. It's important to me to maintain my independence." Noah watched her for a moment, seeing the steel in her posture. "I respect that. But you don't have to do everything alone. We're in this together now." Chloe laughed softly, the sound bright in the quiet living room. "Together, yes. But I'll remind you that I'm perfectly capable of handling my own finances." "Point taken," Noah conceded with a small, uncharacteristic chuckle. "But promise me you'll at least consider the car when the time is right? It's a matter of safety as much as anything else." Chloe picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "I promise to think about it. But for now, I'm happy with my bike. I have some savings put aside for a vehicle eventually, but I've always believed a house is a much better investment. A house means having a home. I suppose I'm not like most men; I'd rather have a roof over my head than a fast engine in the driveway." Noah remained on the sofa as she moved toward the kitchen. He had intended to read the morning newspaper, but realized the subscription hadn't been transferred to the Briarwood address yet. Instead, he pulled out his phone to scroll through the financial news, but his eyes kept drifting toward Chloe. She was moving efficiently through the space, wiping down counters and organizing the few items they had. He knew his butler, Adam, had sent a team of professional maids to deep-clean the apartment before they arrived, yet Chloe seemed determined to touch every surface herself. He watched her work with a sense of unease. In his world, women didn't perform what he considered 'maid duties.' He felt a tug of concern, a sudden urge to tell her to stop, to remind her that his clothes were always sent to the dry cleaners and the kitchen was meant for a chef, not a shop owner. He stayed silent, though, struck by her diligence. There was a quiet grace in the way she took ownership of the space. Chloe turned back to him, breaking the silence. "We don't know each other well enough yet, Noah. I'm truly not comfortable using your money for something like a car. Like I said, a house is the priority." She paused, her expression turning more serious. "My sister wants to meet you. I'll take you to see her later this week." Noah stood up, pocketing his phone as he approached her. He looked at her thoughtfully, searching her face for any sign of the ulterior motives he'd expected. He found only a direct, practical gaze. "Sure," he said simply. "Just let me know when." Chloe studied him for a long beat. Sensing a shift in him—a genuine sincerity that hadn't been there when he first threw the card on the table—she finally reached out. She took the debit card and the slip of paper. "I'll keep it for the big things then," she murmured, tucking them into her pocket. "I'm heading to my sister's house now, and then straight to the shop," she said, checking her watch. "What time do you expect to be home?" "I'll return every night unless I have business that keeps me away," Noah replied. "I'll inform you in advance if I'm going to be late." He took a step toward her, his expression tight with a sudden flash of guilt. "Don't forget the card. And... I should have been more considerate with my tone earlier. I apologize." Chloe blinked, surprised by the sudden admission. She offered a polite, firm nod. "I really should be going." Noah watched her walk to the door. As the lock clicked into place, he picked up his phone from the coffee table, staring at the blank screen. He felt a strange weight in his chest—a realization that he lacked any real mastery in this new role of 'husband.' He was a man who managed thousands of employees and millions in assets, yet he felt entirely out of his depth in his own living room. He tapped a contact and brought the phone to his ear. "Adam," Noah said, his voice hushed as the butler picked up. "Once the old Mrs. is awake, ask her to gather the family for dinner here at Briarwood. Tell her she'll know what this is regarding." He hung up without waiting for a reply and looked around the apartment, which suddenly felt much larger and emptier than it had five minutes ago. Across town, Chloe pedaled toward her sister's house, her mind already shifting to the day's tasks. She needed to check on Leo and see how Olivia was holding up after the move. When she pulled into the familiar driveway, the house seemed unusually quiet for a mid-morning. She let herself in, expecting the usual chaos of a toddler's breakfast, but found Olivia sitting alone at the kitchen table, her eyes red-rimmed and a cold cup of coffee in front of her. ════════════════════════════════════════