Chapter 7 - The Crown of the CityForty-eight hours later, the afternoon sun broke through the gray Chicago clouds, reflecting off the glass towers of the financial district.
Inside the grand marble foyer of the Federal Courthouse downtown, a massive press corps had gathered behind security velvet ropes. Camera flashes popped continuously, and news reporters shouted frantic questions into their microphones.
Escorted by fifty armed federal marshals and Christian’s elite security team, Richard Miller and the entire senior leadership of the Moretti family were led out of the courtroom in handcuffs, their faces pale, their careers and empire permanently destroyed by the financial evidence submitted to the Department of Justice.
Standing on the elevated stone steps of the courthouse, wearing an elegant ivory wool coat, stood me.
Beside me, dressed in a flawless navy suit, was Christian.
The corporate world that had thrown me out four days ago was now crawling on its knees, begging for my services as the chief independent auditor for the state’s financial task force. My professional reputation was not only restored; it was untouchable.
And the fiancé who had abandoned me? He was currently facing legal scrutiny for his association with Miller’s dirty firm, completely erased from my mind.
Christian reached out, his hand wrapping securely around mine, his fingers interlacing with mine in front of every snapping camera in the city.
He didn't care about the press. He didn't care about the rumors. He looked down at me with an open, unreserved devotion that declared to the entire world who I belonged to.
"Are you ready to go home, Clara?" Christian asked softly, his slate-gray eyes warm and radiant in the afternoon light.
I looked up into the face of the man who had pulled me out of the shadows, protected me with his life, and given me an empire built on truth, loyalty, and absolute devotion.
May you like
"I'm already home, Christian," I smiled, squeezing his hand tightly.
We walked down the stone steps together, stepping into the waiting black armored car as the city bowed to its new queen, leaving the dark, blood-stained cold of the Cobalt Lounge far behind us in the shadows of the past.
