Chapter 10 - The House That Love Built
Five years later.
The antique clock in the upper corridor chimed softly: 3:00 a.m.
In the old days, that sound would have triggered a chorus of terror, sending cold sweat down the spine of every person in the house.
Tonight, the hallway was silent, bathed in the warm, golden glow of nightlights along the baseboards.
In their separate, beautifully decorated bedrooms, eleven-year-old Lily and Rose were fast asleep, dreaming of school projects, soccer games, and pony rides. Their breathing was deep, steady, and peaceful.
Downstairs in the master study, the old mahogany desk was covered not with guns or ledgers, but with family photo albums, school permission slips, and birthday party invitations.
Rory Starks stood by the large bay window, looking out over the moonlit lawn where the ocean waves whispered against the shore. He wore a simple cotton sweater instead of a tailored three-piece suit.
Behind him, soft footsteps crossed the Persian rug.
Arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and a familiar cheek pressed gently against his back.
Rory turned around, wrapping his strong arms around Veronica, pulling her close against his chest. They had been married two years ago in a quiet ceremony on the lawn, surrounded by the girls, close friends, and an absolute absence of bodyguards or enemies.
“Can’t sleep?” Veronica whispered, looking up into his eyes.
“Just thinking,” Rory murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Remember five years ago? When we thought the monsters were hiding under the bed?”
Veronica smiled, her arms tightening around his neck. “We were both wrong, you know.”
“Oh?” Rory raised an eyebrow. “Where were they hiding?”
“Not under the bed,” Veronica laughed softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “They were hiding in our own fears, waiting for us to realize that love is stronger than any machine, any syndicate, or any monster.”
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Rory looked down at her, his heart swelling with a deep, unbreakable peace. He reached out with one hand, turning off the desk lamp and plunging the room into a warm, comfortable darkness.
The house was safe. The girls were asleep. And for the first time in his life, Rory Starks had won the only war that truly mattered.
