Chapter 6 - The First Step
Back at the Lake Forest estate, the cold concrete structure was slowly beginning to show signs of life. Mrs. Gable had cleared out the glass display cases in the main gallery, replacing them with a low table covered in drawing paper and boxes of crayons Marcus Vance had picked up from a local store.
When I entered the gallery, Leo and Noah were sitting side by side on the floor, their small hands covered in bright green and blue wax marks. Noah was drawing a picture of a large, black car, while Leo was meticulously coloring a giant, red tower that stretched to the top of the page.
I crouched down beside them, my expensive suit trousers wrinkling against the hardwood floor. "What are you making, Leo?"
"The big tower," Leo said, without looking up from his work. "The one where you live. Mama said you look out the windows to see if the world is safe."
I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my chest, a physical reaction to the sheer weight of the responsibility I had run from for four years. "It’s safe now, Leo. I promise."
Noah stopped coloring, his small fingers reaching out to touch the silver cufflink on my wrist. "Is Mama coming to the castle soon? She’s been in the white room for a long time."
I reached out and gently took his small hand in mine, surprised by how soft it was compared to the rough steel handles of my corporate life. "She's in a special hospital right now, Noah. The doctors are giving her the best medicine. We're going to go visit her today. Would you like that?"
Noah’s face lit up, a brilliant, clean smile breaking through his usual solemn expression. "Can I bring her my backpack? It has her favorite picture inside."
"You can bring whatever you want, buddy," I said, ruffled his dark hair.
As we walked out to the armored car, Marcus Vance stepped into the corridor, his phone pressed to his ear. He caught my eye and gave a slight, tight nod—the signal that our security parameter had detected another anomaly.
"What is it?" I asked, setting Noah into his seat.
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"A private charter flight out of Zurich just cleared customs at O'Hare," Marcus whispered, his face grim. "Your father isn't staying in Switzerland anymore, Ethan. He’s just landed in Chicago."
I looked back at the house, then at my sons who were laughing in the back seat as they buckled their own straps. "Let him come," I said, my voice dropping into a register that made the security captain take a step back. "This is my city now. And I don't give up my territory."
