Tia was glad to be back in her penthouse, New York sparkling beyond the big windows. But she was even more glad to be there with Marcus. He seemed to feel at home there and that’s just what she wanted. Wherever they were, as long as they were together, they were home.

She was thinking back to their schoolhouse wedding in Ecuador, the sparkling diamond ring on her finger. They would be making it official, and her imagination began wandering to the church, the white dress, the flowers.

Tia was struck then with the realization that she’d never thought about getting married before; she’d practically discounted the possibility altogether. Her life didn’t seem to allow for it, but now her life demanded it and would allow for nothing else. She thought about their future, the merging of their companies and their lives, how uncanny it was that their rival businesses had brought them together after so many years, that their mutual sense of will and independence had finally pushed them back into each other’s lives and each other’s arms.

They stood out on the balcony, stars splattered across the New York sky. Marcus wrapped his arm around her waist as he had before, a union that was nearly destroyed by forces lurking close to Tia and Marcus both, their own employees, the faces of their companies lurching out to destroy them. She was struck by the irony, that the thing which had kept her alive, which had become her life, was very nearly her death. And Marcus had nearly succumbed to the same sad fate, overwhelmed by his own accomplishments and the uncontrolled love of his most trusted associate.

Trust, Tia thought to herself. And to think at one point I didn’t even trust Marcus! Well, if there’s anybody in the world I know I can trust now, it’s him.

It was always him, and it always will be.

Marcus kissed her cheek, gently nuzzling her ear. In his low, gravelly voice, he whispered to her, “Let those who are in favor with their stars of public honor and proud titles boast, whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, unlook’d for joy in that I honour most.”

She smiled, recognizing the sonnet. “Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread but as the marigold at the sun’s eye; and in themselves their pride lies buried, for at a frown they in their glory die.”

He looked at her, his eyes both sad and sweet, smiling to let her go on. “The painful warrior famoused for fight, after a thousand victories once foil’d, is from the book of honour razed quite, and all the rest forgot for which he toil’d.”

Marcus raised her hand to his face, gently kissing the backs of her fingers. He said, “Then happy I, that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.”

They kissed, lips pressing gently, a tender nuzzle between them as they turned to survey the glittering city at their feet.

The doorbell rang from inside the apartment, Marcus and Tia sharing a worried glance. Marcus asked her, “Are you expecting somebody?”

“No, of course not.”

Marcus looked at the door, then back at Tia. He took the liberty to lead her into her apartment and toward the door, holding his hand out to pause Tia in the living room while walked cautiously toward the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Barbara Mortonson, from the IRS.” Marcus looked at Tia and she back at her, a shake of her head telling him that she had no idea why she’d be getting such a visit at such a place and such an hour.

Marcus turned and opened the door to reveal the pretty, petite blonde in a smart business suit. She stood with a smile, her hands behind her back.

Marcus said, “Hello.”

“Hello to you,” she said with a pert, chirpy voice. “It’s Mr. Pike, isn’t it? Marcus Pike?”

“That’s right,” he said, stepping back to let Barbara step into the penthouse. Marcus closed the door behind her, a look of surprise on his face, but it wouldn’t be the most shocking event of the night.

Not by a long shot.

Barbara revealed one hand from behind her back, a small black stun gun in her palm. She simply reached out and touched Marcus, an electrical crackling muffled by his jacket, though not deterred by it. Marcus flinched and fell straight to the floor, body spasming at Barbara’s feet.

Tia was still standing in the center of the living room, amazed by what she was seeing. She lurched toward the door, to assault Barbara and care for Marcus, do whatever she could do in that frenzied split-second.

But she didn’t even have that much time. Barbara withdrew her other hand from behind her back, a boxy blue device in her hand. It was shaped like a gun, but it shot out two metal nodes that jabbed into Tia’s chest. The current pulsed through her with blinding heat, her body quivering, mind bursting as if her brain were on fire. The cold floor seemed to rise up to meet her even as her eyesight went black, a dull hum in her ears.