Chapter 14 - REBUILDING FROM THE ASHES
Spring returned to Chicago, painting the city in vibrant shades of green and gold. My mother returned home to a fully renovated, sunlit townhouse in the northern suburbs, completely cured and healthy, surrounded by nurses and medical equipment provided entirely by the Blackwell foundation. She still didn't know the full extent of the underworld war that had secured our new life—she only knew that Mr. Blackwell was a very generous, honorable employer who looked out for his people. And she adored him. On a warm Saturday afternoon, Damon and I stood in the private glass conservatory on the top floor of the tower, surrounded by exotic orchids and cascading ivy. "Your mother is coming for dinner tonight," Damon said, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets with a relaxed smile that only I ever got to see. "She insists on cooking her famous pot roast, despite my chef's repeated protests." I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "You'll eat it and you'll like it, Mr. Blackwell. My mother takes culinary critique as a personal insult." "For her, I would eat anything," he murmured, wrapping his strong arms securely around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest. The dark, dangerous syndicate boss was gone; in his place was the man who had kept his promise to be my shield against the world. "You know," I whispered, looking up into his dark eyes, "when you found me in that storage room with a broken arm, I thought my life was over." Damon shook his head slowly, his gaze softening with profound affection. "It wasn't the end of your life, Kate. It was the beginning of ours."
