Chapter 8 - The Healing
An hour later, the estate had returned to its eerie, quiet stillness.
Rachel sat in the master study, clutching a cup of hot tea between her hands. The door opened, and Adrian walked in, shrugging off his dark coat. He looked as calm as if he had just stepped back inside from checking the mail.
“Is it... is it over?” Rachel asked, her voice shaking.
“Your husband is currently on his way to a federal holding facility in Lake County,” Adrian said smoothly, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “He won't be bothering you or Lily ever again. You have my word.”
Rachel let out a long, shuddering breath, a sob breaking free as the massive weight of years of fear finally lifted off her shoulders. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Adrian stood awkwardly nearby. For a man who dealt in violence, intimidation, and blood, comforting a crying woman was an entirely foreign language.
Slowly, awkwardly, he walked over and placed a heavy, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You’re safe here, Rachel,” he said, using her first name for the very first time.
Rachel looked up, her gray eyes shining with unshed tears and profound gratitude. She reached up and placed her hand over his large, warm hand resting on her shoulder. “Thank you, Adrian. I don't know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“You don't have to repay me,” Adrian replied quietly, his slate-gray eyes softening. “Your daughter already made the down payment.”
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He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper—the purple-scribbled business ledger page Sophie had ruined six years ago. Beside it, he laid a fresh green crayon.
Rachel smiled through her tears, realizing for the first time that the frozen, terrifying mafia boss of Cleveland was finally beginning to thaw.
