Chapter 2 - Steel Manor
The private helicopter landed on the pristine helipad of Steel Manor just as twilight painted the sky in shades of deep purple and crimson. Located on a private fifty-acre estate just outside Chicago, the massive stone mansion looked like a fortress—imposing, silent, and entirely devoid of life.
For fifteen years, Steel Manor had been nothing more than a place where Ryker slept between business trips. There were no toys on the manicured lawns, no laughter echoing through the vast marble hallways, and no warmth in the high-ceilinged rooms.
That was about to change.
The side door of the luxury SUV opened, and Ryker stepped out, holding Lily in his right arm while keeping his left hand firmly clasped around Owen’s small palm. The boy still clung tightly to his worn stuffed bear.
Standing on the front steps was Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper who had served the Steel family for over thirty years. She stood in stunned silence as she watched her usually distant, stern master walk toward her carrying two tiny, bedraggled children.
"Mr. Steel..." Mrs. Gable gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "When Marco called from the airport, I thought... I thought there was a mistake."
"There is no mistake, Mrs. Gable," Ryker said, setting Lily down gently on the heated marble entrance. "Prepare the east wing suites. I want the finest pediatric doctors, tutors, and child specialists here by nine tomorrow morning."
"Of course, sir!" Mrs. Gable's eyes welled with tears as she knelt down to the children's eye level. "Oh, you poor sweet angels. Welcome to Steel Manor. I have warm soup and fresh strawberry shortcake waiting for you in the kitchen."
Lily looked up at the grand crystal chandelier hanging from the three-story ceiling, then at Ryker. "Is this a castle?"
"It's a home," Ryker said, though the word felt strange on his tongue. He hadn't thought of this place as a home in a very long time. "Your home, for as long as you want it to be."
While Mrs. Gable led the children to the dining room to eat, Ryker walked into his private study. The mahogany-paneled room was dark, lit only by the glowing monitors of his security desk and the fireplace.
Marco knocked softly and stepped inside, holding a thick leather folder.
"Report," Ryker said, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the dark grounds.
"Richard Vance was a mid-level venture capitalist," Marco explained, opening the file. "He married Vanessa two years ago after his first wife—the twins' biological mother, Eleanor—passed away from leukemia. Richard made bad investments and went heavily into debt. When he died suddenly of a heart attack three months ago, Vanessa realized the estate was bankrupt."
"Except for the insurance policy," Ryker noted grimly.
"Exactly. The policy paid out three million dollars to the legal guardian of the children. Vanessa claimed the guardianship, collected the payout into a private offshore account in the Cayman Islands, and planned to dump the children at O'Hare before catching her flight to South America. She had no intention of ever looking back."
Ryker’s grip on his crystal glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. "What about extended family? Aunts, uncles, grandparents?"
"Eleanor was an only child, both her parents are deceased. Richard has a estranged younger brother named Julian Vance. But according to our intelligence, Julian is a low-life gambler with a long criminal record. He hasn't seen the twins since they were born."
"Good," Ryker muttered. "That means there will be no legal hurdles when I adopt them."
"Sir..." Marco hesitated, stepping closer. "Are you sure about this? You run a multi-billion-dollar global conglomerate. You work sixteen hours a day. You've never spent more than ten minutes around children in your life. The press is already catching wind of what happened at the airport."
Ryker turned around slowly, his eyes cold and unwavering. "Those children were abandoned by everyone who was supposed to protect them, Marco. I know what it feels like to sit alone in the dark, waiting for someone who is never coming back."
Marco fell silent. He knew Ryker’s past. He knew that Ryker himself had been raised in the brutal, unforgiving foster care system after losing his parents at a young age—a past that Ryker had buried beneath billions of dollars and an iron reputation.
"I won't let them go through that," Ryker added softly. "Set up a meeting with the family court judge tomorrow morning. I want full, legal custody of Lily and Owen before the week is over."
"Yes, Mr. Steel."
Just as Marco left the room, a faint sound echoed from the grand hallway outside.
Ryker paused. He opened the heavy oak door of his study and walked silently down the dimly lit corridor.
Sitting on the top step of the grand staircase, huddled together under a oversized fleece blanket, were Lily and Owen. They were supposed to be asleep in their warm bedroom, but they were sitting in the dark, staring down at the front door.
Ryker walked over and sat down on the step beside them, adjusting his trousers.
"Why aren't you two in bed?" he asked gently.
Owen looked up at him, his small voice barely a whisper. "We were afraid."
"Afraid of what? The house is secure. Nothing can hurt you here."
Lily reached out and pinched the sleeve of Ryker’s dress shirt, as if checking to make sure he was real. "In our old house... when it got dark, people came and took our furniture away. And then stepmother told us that if we went to sleep, she would leave."
The blunt, casual way the child described her trauma struck Ryker directly in the chest.
"I am not leaving," Ryker said, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. "I will never leave you. Do you understand me?"
Owen looked into Ryker's stern, unflinching face. For the first time all day, the little boy’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He leaned his head against Ryker's arm.
"Can you stay with us until we fall asleep?" Lily asked softly.
May you like
Ryker Steel—a man who had never compromised with international CEOs, who had never yielded an inch in courtroom battles—nodded without a second thought.
"Yes," Ryker said, picking up both children in his arms. "I can do that."
