Chapter 17 - THE RETURN TO GOLD COAST
By one o'clock in the afternoon, the rain over Chicago had cleared, replaced by a brilliant, cold autumn sunlight that illuminated the golden leaves covering the driveways of the Gold Coast neighborhood.
A black armored SUV pulled smoothly through the heavy iron gates of the Chicago estate, its tires crunching quietly over the damp cobblestones of the courtyard.
Dominic stood near the front steps, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark coat flapping slightly in the cold breeze. Beside him stood six armed guards, their posture relaxed for the first time in twenty-four hours.
The SUV stopped. The rear door opened, and Adrian stepped out.
His black leather jacket was gone, replaced by a clean charcoal woolen coat. The minor cuts on his knuckles were clean and bandaged, his dark hair combed back neatly. He looked entirely restored, carrying an aura of absolute, unshakable authority.
Dominic stepped forward, looking his boss up and down with a quiet, knowing expression. "The news channels are calling it a structural failure at the Drake Hotel. A private conference room window collapsed due to high wind gusts."
"High winds," Adrian agreed smoothly, pulling a leather glove off his right hand. "The lake is dangerous this time of year."
"And the board?" Dominic asked, walking alongside Adrian as they ascended the stone steps toward the main entrance.
"The remaining directors signed the asset transfer documents before two o'clock," Adrian said coldly. "The Vance Logistics Group is fully liquidated. The Chicago terminals are under our total, direct control. There will be no further inquiries."
Dominic opened the heavy oak front doors, letting Adrian step into the grand, warm foyer of the estate.
The house was quiet, filled with the rich scent of polished mahogany, old books, and fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen downstairs.
"Where are they?" Adrian asked, stopping near the grand central staircase.
"In the third-floor sitting room," Dominic replied with a faint smile. "The child refused to stay in the bunker once the sun came out. She said she wanted to watch the rain stop from the big window."
Adrian nodded once, turning on his heel and heading up the wide marble stairs, his heavy boots sounding quiet against the plush runner rug.
He walked up to the third floor, turning down the long gallery toward the sitting room.
The heavy mahogany doors were slightly open. Inside, the bright afternoon sunlight poured through the high glass windows, casting long, golden beams across the dark velvet sofa and the Persian rug.
Elena sat on the mahogany armchair, wearing a clean, simple cream-colored sweater, holding a warm cup of tea.
In the center of the rug, sitting cross-legged in her pale yellow dress, was Nora. She was playing quietly with a set of small silver keys, her soft brown curls bouncing as she turned her head toward the doorway.
May you like
She saw Adrian standing in the threshold.
Nora didn't flinch. She didn't hide behind Elena's chair. She set her keys down on the rug, stood up on her small, scuffed shoes, and walked straight across the room toward the tall, tattooed man standing in her doorway.
