Chapter 9 - The Fire Remembers
Dawn broke over the Duca estate with a brilliance that seemed to wash away the sins of the night before.
The snow-covered lawns gleamed under a pale, golden sun, and the air was crisp, clean, and silent.
Down in the east wing, the heavy steel doors of the safe room slid open with a smooth, pneumatic hiss.
Clara stood in the doorway, holding little Lily by the hand. They both looked tired, but the dark, suffocating shadow of fear that had hung over Clara’s eyes for fifteen years was entirely gone.
I was waiting for them in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall, dressed in a simple dark wool coat.
“Is it... is it over?” Clara asked softly, looking up at me.
“It’s over,” I said, offering her a calm, reassuring smile. “The men who hunted you are gone. Renata has been dealt with. You never have to look over your shoulder again, Clara.”
Lily looked up at me with her big, innocent eyes, clutching Mr. Ears tightly. “Can we go outside now, Mr. Lorenzo? Can we build a snowman?”
I chuckled softly, kneeling down to look the little girl in the eyes.
“We can build an entire castle of snow, Miss Lily,” I promised. “And nobody will ever tell you to leave.”
Clara looked down at me, a profound, overwhelming wave of emotion washing over her face. She reached up slowly, her fingers brushing against the black-and-gold pendant resting against her collar—the third pendant, the one that had linked our fates together in the smoke and ash of the past.
“You didn't have to go this far,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “You didn't have to tear down an entire syndicate just for me.”
“You didn't have to pull a bleeding boy out of a drainage culvert fifteen years ago,” I replied, standing back up and meeting her gaze with absolute certainty. “We’re even now, Clara. Except for one thing.”
May you like
She blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. “What’s that?”
“You’re never cleaning another floor as long as you live,” I said, offering her my arm. “Come on. Let’s show Lily the gardens.”
