Chapter 7 - The Empire We BuiltTwo years later.
The spring sun over Lake Michigan was blindingly bright, casting sparkling diamonds across the deep blue water as I stood on the wraparound veranda of our new home in Winnetka.
The estate was magnificent—surrounded by open lawns, towering oak trees, and a private dock where a sleek white yacht bobbed gently against the wooden pylons. There were no high brick walls here, no armed guards stationed in the shadows, and no lingering ghosts from Union Station.
Inside the house, soft classical piano music drifted from the open French doors.
Footsteps approached from behind me, familiar and steady, followed by the warm, unmistakable scent of cedar and expensive tobacco.
A pair of strong arms wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me back against a solid, familiar chest. A warm chin rested gently on my shoulder.
“You’re standing out here in the wind again without a wrap,” Vincent murmured, his voice rich with quiet amusement. “Are you trying to catch a cold on purpose?”
I smiled, leaning back into his embrace, placing my hands over his arms. A soft, rounded curve of my belly pressed gently against his embrace—six months pregnant with a child who would grow up knowing neither debt, nor fear, nor cages.
“I’m just watching the boats,” I replied softly, turning my head to kiss his cheek. “And thinking about how far we’ve come.”
Vincent turned me gently in his arms, his dark eyes shining with a deep, unbreakable devotion that only I was privileged to see.
“Two years ago today, you stumbled into the Velvet Room and sat on the lap of a monster,” Vincent reminded me, a slow, tender smile curving his lips.
“You weren't a monster,” I corrected, reaching up to trace his sharp jawline. “You were just waiting for someone brave enough to make you human.”
Vincent captured my hand, pressing a lingering kiss to my palm before sliding a heavy, brilliant diamond ring back onto my finger—not an engagement ring of convenience, but a renewed vow whispered in the sunlight, far away from the dark alleys of Chicago.
“The board meeting is in an hour,” Vincent murmured, pressing his forehead against mine. “Are you ready to run the freight terminals today, Mrs. Moretti?”
May you like
I laughed, a bright, uninhibited sound that carried out across the sparkling lake.
“Let them come,” I whispered, kissing him deeply. “We own the waterfront now.”
