Chapter 9 - The Settlement of the Blood
The winter of 2026 arrived in Highland Park with a sudden, brilliant freeze that turned Lake Michigan into a field of white glass, the waves frozen into long, jagged fingers of ice that sparkled under the December sun.
Inside the Costello estate, the air was warm and filled with the scent of fresh pine needles, hot cider, and the rich, deep aroma of roasted beef coming from the kitchen. Arthur was running across the marble floor of the foyer, his legs strong and steady as he chased a golden retriever puppy that Dominic had bought for him from a breeder in Wisconsin.
“Careful around the stairs, Arthur!” Fiona called out from the doorway of the study, her apron tied over a thick wool sweater, her fingers holding a cup of chamomile tea.
Dominic sat at the large mahogany desk, but he wasn't looking at numbers or port bills. He was looking at a framed photograph that sat between his pens—a picture of Fiona standing on the stone wall in the rain, her jaw set, her trauma shears clutched in her hand like a sword.
“Rocco called from Center City, Fiona,” Dominic said, standing up from his chair and walking over to the hearth. “Victoria’s appeals were denied. She’s starting her twelve-year sentence at the woman’s correctional facility in Pekin tomorrow morning. Her family sold their shares in the logistics company to pay the legal fees.”
Fiona set her tea down on the mantle, her eyes fixed on the fire. “Do you regret it, Dominic? The name? The exposure?”
Dominic walked up behind her, his large hands settling over her shoulders with a soft, protective weight that had no room for the violence he had practiced on the piers.
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“The Costello name used to mean something people whispered when they were afraid, Fiona,” he said, his voice dropping into that low, private hum that belonged only to her. “Now it means the foundation that keeps the clinics open on Sixth Street. My father would have hated the spreadsheet, but he would have loved the nurse.”
He turned her around until her back was against the warm stone of the chimney, his lips meeting hers in a long, slow kiss that carried the whole weight of the storm they had left behind.
