The first time I saw Sebastian Rowan, his daughter was dying on my clinic floor and he was pretending to be poor.

The grand opening of the new Harbor Light Children’s Clinic was not held in a cramped, drafty room with a clanking radiator.

It took place in a sunlit, two-story architectural marvel in the West Loop—a building featuring vaulted ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, private exam rooms equipped with the latest pediatric technology, and a dedicated creative arts wing funded entirely by the Rowan Foundation.

Over two hundred people attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony: local families, volunteer nurses, city council members who had suddenly discovered a sudden passion for community healthcare, and even a few reformed real estate executives trying to polish their public images.

Inside the main reception lobby, a plaque hung proudly beside the mahogany front desk.

HARBOR LIGHT CHILDREN’S CLINIC Dedicated to the health, safety, and future of every child in Chicago. Built through the vision of Dr. Elena Vance and Sebastian Rowan.

I stood near the front window, watching the sunlight stream across the polished oak floors. Children laughed in the waiting area, playing with blocks and reading picture books while nurses checked their temperatures with gentle, reassuring smiles.

A pair of familiar arms wrapped gently around my waist from behind.

"You know," Sebastian murmured near my ear, his breath warm against my neck, "for a doctor who swore she would never trust a wealthy man, you've managed to turn one into your personal contractor."

I leaned back against his chest, smiling as I turned in his arms to face him. He wore a simple gray sweater and slacks—no expensive corporate tie, no heavy armor, just a man who had finally learned what truly mattered in life.

"I didn't turn you into anything, Sebastian," I said softly, resting my hands against his chest. "You just finally remembered who you were before you started building walls."

He captured my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles.

Across the lobby, Hazel and Theo were sitting on a large blue rug together, laughing as they colored side-by-side in a stack of new sketchpads. Through the massive glass windows, the Chicago skyline rose tall and bright into the spring sky, no longer a monument to cold corporate greed, but a city touched by grace.

"Dinner tonight?" Sebastian asked, his eyes holding mine with a depth that needed no lies, no disguises, and no fear.