Chapter 17 - Queen of the East Wing
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Three months later, January snow blanketed the manicured grounds of the Lake Forest estate in pristine, glittering white.
Inside the grand mansion, the atmosphere had transformed completely. There were still armed guards at the perimeter gates and captains waiting in the downstairs foyer at seven in the morning, because Julian Vane still ruled the Chicago port syndicates with an iron fist.
Only now, none of them dared whisper when Nora Brennan walked down the grand marble staircase.
She wasn't wearing a black maid’s uniform anymore. Dressed in a warm camel wool turtleneck dress and suede boots, with her textbooks for her first semester at Northwestern’s pre-med program tucked under her arm, she paused on the main landing as Dario stepped out of the conservatory and inclined his head with deep, genuine respect.
"Morning, Miss Nora," Dario said warmly. "The driver has the SUV warmed up for your ten o’clock lecture. And Dr. Shaw called from the clinic—Leo’s six-week post-transplant bloodwork came back completely clear this morning."
A radiant smile lit up Nora’s face, making her look five years younger than the exhausted girl who used to count her sleep in minutes. "Thank you, Dario. He’s already complaining that Julian bought him too many model kits for Christmas and he’s running out of shelf space in the east suite."
Julian had refused to let Leo stay in Uptown after the successful kidney transplant in November; instead, he had converted the entire sunny second-floor conservatory wing into an apartment and workshop for the teenager, complete with a private tutor and a retired engineering professor who came twice a week to teach him CAD design.
Before Nora left for the university, she walked down the familiar narrow corridor of the east wing toward the kitchen to grab a thermos of coffee.
In the main kitchen, Elena—whom Julian had spared after learning Marcus had threatened her younger sister to force her cooperation—looked up from the prep island and smiled shyly, handing Nora a silver travel mug filled with espresso and a small paper bag of warm lemon scones.
"Made them fresh twenty minutes ago, Nora," Elena said softly. "And... thank you again for speaking up for me to Mr. Vane."
"Just make sure you keep the pantry mousetraps checked," Nora replied with a gentle wink that made the younger girl laugh in relief.
On her way back through the main hall, Nora detoured past the towering mahogany doors of Julian’s second-floor study. The doors were slightly ajar, the morning meeting with his harbor attorneys having wrapped up ten minutes early.
She pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.
Julian was sitting behind his massive partner’s desk, dark glasses of scotch untouched on the credenza, looking over a blueprint of the new Calumet residential development—a legitimate hundred-million-dollar project he had dedicated in his brother Matteo’s name.
When he looked up and saw her standing by the desk, the cold, severe lines around his mouth softened instantly into the look that belonged exclusively to her.
He held out one hand.
Nora walked behind the desk and let him pull her sideways onto his lap, curling an arm around his broad shoulders as he pressed his face against the warm skin of her throat, inhaling the scent of verbena soap he had bought for her by the case.
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"How many hours did you sleep last night?" Nora murmured, running her fingers lightly through his dark hair.
Julian smiled against her collarbone, his thumb tracing the silver engagement ring he had slipped onto her finger on New Year’s Eve. "Eight. Every single night since October."
