Chapter 9 - The House on the Hill
The Falcone estate hadn't changed, and yet everything was different.
Perched on a sprawling, wooded hill overlooking Lake Michigan, the limestone mansion looked less like a fortress and more like a sanctuary now that the perimeter had been reinforced with state-of-the-art biometric scanners and twenty-four-hour patrol units.
When the SUV pulled up to the grand double doors, Sarah, the longtime head housekeeper who had once looked at me with polite indifference, stood waiting on the top step with a warm, genuine smile.
"Welcome home, Miss Claire. Welcome home, little master," Sarah said, stepping forward to help me out of the car.
Inside, the cavernous foyer was bathed in warm golden light from the crystal chandeliers. But the air no longer felt cold or suffocating. It felt like a space waiting to be filled with life.
Nico carried Milo up the sweeping marble staircase toward the private family wing on the third floor—a suite of rooms that had remained locked and shuttered for twenty-four months.
When Nico pushed open the double doors to the master child’s bedroom, I stopped in my tracks.
It wasn't a nursery anymore. It was a wonderland.
A hand-carved wooden bed shaped like a pirate ship sat against one wall, flanked by shelves overflowing with picture books, stuffed animals, and educational toys. A sunlit bay window looked out over the sparkling expanse of the lake.
"You... you had this built?" I asked, turning to look at Nico in astonishment.
"I had it designed the day you left," Nico said quietly, standing in the center of the room with his hands in his pockets. "I didn't know if you’d ever come back. I didn't know if I’d ever get the chance to be his father. But I built it anyway, because hope is a stubborn disease, Claire. Once it gets inside you, it’s impossible to root out."
I walked over to him, stopping just inches away. The scent of starch, cold air, and something uniquely him wrapped around me like a familiar blanket.
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"You're a terrifying man, Nico Falcone," I whispered, reaching up to gently touch the edge of his collar.
"Only to the people who want to hurt you," he replied, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with infinite gentleness.
