Chapter 6 - The True SanctuarySix months later, the spring sun broke over Lake Michigan, casting a brilliant, golden glow across the private gardens of the Callaway estate on the outskirts of the city.
The chaos of the syndicate wars had ended as swiftly and silently as it began. The rival factions had been dismantled, their assets absorbed, their leaders scattered to the winds before they could even launch their attack. The city of Chicago remained peaceful, its underworld operating under a single, unbreakable law: Never touch a Callaway.
In the sunlit nursery overlooking the lake, Dela sat in a comfortable rocking chair, holding a healthy, sleeping baby girl wrapped in a soft white blanket. The baby had her mother’s expressive eyes and a tuft of dark hair that already looked remarkably like her father's.
The door opened softly, and Royce walked in. He wore a simple gray cashmere sweater, the harshness of his executive suits and underworld armor left behind at the office. He walked over quietly, kneeling beside the rocking chair to look down at his daughter.
"She has your hands," Royce whispered, gently touching one of the baby's tiny, perfect fingers.
"She has your stubbornness," Dela corrected with a soft, radiant smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
Royce stood up, pulling both of them into his arms, burying his face in the crook of Dela’s neck. The ghosts of the past—the cheap uniforms, the cold hallway floors, the shattering mirrors, and the blood on the marble—were all gone, washed away by the tide of an empire built to keep them safe.
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"You're safe now," Royce murmured against her skin, the words a promise he had made on the day they met again, and a vow he would keep for the rest of time. "Forever."
Dela closed her eyes, resting her head against his broad shoulder, finally letting go of every remaining fear. She had run from the dark for years, only to find that the most dangerous man in the city was the only one strong enough to build her a true home.
