Chapter 6 - The New Dynasty
The sun broke over the Baltimore harbor in a blaze of gold and crimson, burning away the mist and casting long, warm rays across the water.
Inside the penthouse study, the atmosphere was entirely different from the night before.
The blood had been cleaned. The tension of betrayal had been purged. The traitors—Marcus and his inner circle—were currently residing in a maximum-security federal holding facility awaiting a very brief, very final trial.
Tommy sat on the sofa, his shoulder heavily bandaged, staring down at a cup of black coffee with a look of profound, eternal remorse.
“I don't expect you to forgive me, Uncle Caleb,” Tommy whispered, not looking up.
“You’re alive, Tommy. That’s your forgiveness,” I said, standing by the window. “Pack a bag. Catch a flight to Zurich tonight. Stay there. Never set foot in this city again. Consider that your father’s final insurance policy.”
Tommy swallowed hard, stood up, and nodded slowly before walking out of the room without another word.
The door opened again.
Footsteps padded softly across the hardwood floor.
I turned around.
Lily stood there. She was wearing a clean white sweater and a pair of soft blue jeans, her dark curls neatly brushed, looking less like a street urchin and more like the princess she actually was—my brother’s child.
She walked right up to my desk, stopping a foot away, looking up at me with those familiar, unblinking eyes.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asked quietly.
A rare, genuine smile—the first one in twenty years—touched the corners of my mouth. I walked around the desk, knelt down on one knee so I was eye-level with her, and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
“Mad at you?” I asked softly. “You saved my life, Elena.”
Her eyes lit up at her real name. “You know who I am.”
“I know everything about you,” I said. “And from this day forward, nobody will ever touch you. You are a Vance. And in this city, nobody touches our blood.”
Elena smiled, throwing her small arms around my neck and burying her face in my shoulder. I held her tightly, feeling the warmth of family—something I had thought was dead and buried a lifetime ago.
Behind us, Adrian and Leon stood by the doorway, watching quietly.
“What’s our next move with the port acquisitions, Caleb?” Adrian asked, holding his tablet.
May you like
I stood up, holding Elena’s small hand in mine, walking toward the grand floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a city that was finally, truly ours.
“Let the city run itself for a week, Adrian,” I said, looking out at the golden horizon. “Family comes first.”
