Chapter 4 - The House on Astor StreetAt 1:30 AM, a black armored Maybach glided smoothly through the wrought-iron security gates of a historic four-story limestone mansion on Astor Street in Gold Coast, Chicago.
The house was breathtaking—a masterpiece of nineteenth-century architecture surrounded by high stone walls, private security cameras, and broad-shouldered men in dark suits patrolling the manicured courtyard.
I sat in the plush leather back seat, holding a warm cup of tea that Giovanni’s driver had handed me, still wearing the heavy diamond ring on my finger.
Sitting beside me was Lily.
My best friend, Sarah, had brought Lily to the mansion thirty minutes earlier under Giovanni's private security escort. Lily was fast asleep against my side, wrapped in her soft pink fleece blanket, her thumb tucked securely into her mouth, completely unaware that her entire life had been transformed in a single evening.
Giovanni opened the Maybach’s door himself, offering his broad hand to help me out.
I stepped down onto the stone driveway, holding sleeping Lily tightly against my chest.
"Welcome to your new home, Donna Jessica," an older, dignified woman in a dark dress spoke warmly, bowing her head respectfully as we entered the grand marble foyer. "I am Maria, the estate manager. Miss Lily’s suite in the east wing has been fully prepared."
"Thank you, Maria," I murmured, my eyes wide as I took in the soaring wood-beamed ceilings, the grand marble fireplaces, and the priceless oil paintings lining the halls.
Maria gently guided me upstairs to a sunlit, beautiful bedroom decorated with soft pastel colors, plush toys, and a handcrafted canopy bed. I laid Lily down onto the crisp white sheets, tucking her pink blanket around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
She let out a tiny, peaceful sigh, nestling into the soft pillows.
I stepped out of the nursery into the wide, carpeted hallway, closing the door softly behind me.
Giovanni was waiting near the grand oak staircase, holding two glasses of fine crystal bourbon. He wore a plain dark linen shirt with his sleeves rolled back, his dark hair slightly messy, his amber eyes watching me with a deep, quiet intensity.
He handed me a glass.
"She's safe, Jessica," Giovanni promised softly, his baritone echoing in the quiet hallway. "No one enters this wing without my personal clearance."
I took a slow sip of the warm bourbon, feeling the heat spread through my chest, looking up into the eyes of the man who had pulled my daughter and me out of the shadows.
"Why are you doing all of this, Giovanni?" I asked quietly, keeping three feet of space between us. "You didn't just want a fake wife to fool your aunt. You knew about Vance Logistics. You knew about Tyler. You planned this."
Giovanni set his glass down on a marble side table. He took three slow, deliberate steps toward me, stopping inches from where I stood.
"Four years ago, Jessica," Giovanni revealed, his deep voice vibrating with an intense, fierce emotion that made my breath hitch, "your late father saved my younger brother's life during a commercial dock fire in South Boston. My family owes the Hale name a debt that money can never repay."
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My eyes widened in pure, speech-bound shock. "My father...?"
"Your father was a brave man who was betrayed by the people he trusted," Giovanni whispered, reaching out to gently, reverently frame my jawline with his broad hand. "When I learned that his eldest daughter was working double shifts as a pediatric nurse while the people who robbed her lived in luxury... I swore I would give you back your kingdom."
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