Chapter 6 - A New Tradition
A year later, the Beacon Hill estate looked entirely different on Christmas Eve.
There were no flashing red emergency lights, no torn wool coats, and no hidden ledgers waiting to be stolen. Instead, the grand foyer was filled with warmth, laughter, and the bright, cheerful glow of a massive white pine tree decorated by candlelight.
My brother Rowan, walking steadily with a cane and smiling broadly, stood by the piano talking to several of the estate staff.
I stood near the french doors of the study, wearing an emerald-green silk dress, watching the snow fall gently over the Boston harbor in the distance. My wrist was completely healed, showing no trace of the brace I had worn a year ago.
Footsteps approached softly behind me.
Killian Ashcroft handed me a crystal glass of sparkling cider, standing beside me to look out at the harbor lights.
"You know," Killian murmured quietly, "last Christmas Eve, you called me to apologize for missing the dining room."
I smiled, clinking my glass gently against his. "And you came into an emergency room alone without a gun to rescue your housekeeper."
May you like
"Not my housekeeper," Killian corrected softly, turning to look down at me with an unreadable, profound warmth in his dark eyes. "My partner. Merry Christmas, Maeve."
"Merry Christmas, boss," I whispered, smiling as the snow fell over the city, knowing that the shadows were finally gone for good.
