Chapter 7 - The Ashes of the Onyx Room
The next forty-eight hours moved like a hurricane.
The arrest of Arthur and Evelyn Sterling dominated every news channel in the country. The billionaire philanthropist and his socialite daughter, marched out of the Drake Hotel in handcuffs. The leaked documents destroyed the Sterling empire overnight. Stocks plummeted. Board members resigned. The corrupt federal task force members were indicted by noon the next day.
Vincent spent those two days locked in his River North penthouse, rebuilding the walls of his own empire. With the Sterling threat neutralized, the rival families backed down. His shipping yards reopened. His accounts unfroze. The Romano family was stronger than ever.
But the penthouse felt empty.
On the third evening, Vincent sat at his massive oak desk, staring out at the Chicago skyline. The city was glowing beneath the twilight.
He looked down at his desk.
Sitting next to a stack of shipping manifests was the tarnished silver pocket watch.
Harper had left it behind.
After the gala, she had quietly slipped out of the hotel while the Feds were arresting Evelyn. She didn’t ask for money. She didn’t ask for a ride. She just vanished into the night, exactly like she had from the Onyx Room.
Leo walked into the office, carrying a folder.
“The lawyers finished the paperwork,” Leo said, setting the folder on the desk. “The Sterling waterfront properties. Since Evelyn broke the marriage contract via criminal fraud, the penalty clauses kicked in. We own the docks now.”
“Good,” Vincent said absently. He picked up the pocket watch, turning it over in his hands.
Leo watched him for a moment. “You’re thinking about the girl.”
“I’m thinking about loyalty,” Vincent corrected, though he knew he was lying. “She saved my life, Leo. And all she walked away with was the clothes on her back.”
“She got justice for her mother,” Leo pointed out. “For some people, that’s enough.”
“Not for me,” Vincent said. He stood up, grabbing his coat. “Find her.”
Leo smiled faintly. “I already did.”
Vincent stopped. “Where is she?”
“She didn’t go far,” Leo said, handing Vincent a slip of paper. “She’s trying to disappear, Boss. But people like her… they leave a different kind of trail.”
Vincent took the paper. He read the address.
It wasn’t a train station. It wasn’t an airport.
It was a small, dusty flower shop in the working-class neighborhood of Pilsen.
Thirty minutes later, Vincent’s black Escalade pulled up to the curb. The shop was closed, but a dim light glowed in the back room. Vincent told Leo to wait in the car.
He walked to the glass door and knocked gently.
A moment later, Harper appeared. She was wearing jeans and an oversized gray sweater, her hair tied up in a messy bun. The bruise on her jaw had faded to a dull yellow.
When she saw Vincent standing on the sidewalk, she hesitated. Then, she unlocked the door.
“We’re closed,” she said softly.
“I need a bouquet,” Vincent said, stepping inside. The air smelled of damp earth, roses, and cedar. It was a million miles away from the smell of the Onyx Room or the Drake Hotel.
“For who?” Harper asked, crossing her arms.
“For a friend,” Vincent said. “Someone who forgot something.”
He reached into his pocket and placed the silver pocket watch on the wooden counter.
Harper looked at the watch. She didn’t touch it.
“I didn’t forget it,” she said, her voice tight. “I left it. I don’t want anything that belongs to him.”
“It doesn’t belong to him anymore,” Vincent said. He stepped closer. “It’s a piece of metal, Harper. It only has the power you give it. Your mother kept it because it was proof of your existence. Proof that you mattered.”
Harper looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dim light. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, Vincent. My whole life for the last year has been about taking them down. Now… it’s just quiet.”
“Quiet isn’t always bad,” Vincent said gently. He looked around the shop. “Do you own this place?”
“I bought it yesterday,” Harper said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I used the tips I saved from the Onyx Room. It’s small. The roof leaks. But it’s mine.”
Vincent smiled. It was the first real, genuine smile he had worn in a very long time.
“You need a better security system,” Vincent said, tapping the flimsy lock on the door. “And a new supplier for your orchids. I know a guy who brings them in fresh from South America. Clean imports.”
Harper let out a wet, genuine laugh. “Are you trying to monopolize my flower shop, Mr. Romano?”
“I’m trying to offer you a partnership,” Vincent said, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “No contracts. No threats. Just… a fresh start.”
He reached out, slowly, and took her hand. It wasn’t trembling anymore.
Harper looked down at their hands, then back up at Vincent. The fear that had defined her for so long was entirely gone. In its place was something new. Something quiet, and strong.
May you like
“A fresh start,” Harper whispered.
She squeezed his hand back.
