Chapter 9 - The Vermont Sanctuary
Two weeks later.
The crisp autumn air of the Green Mountains in Vermont smelled of pine, fresh rain, and woodsmoke.
Standing on a gentle hillside overlooking fifty acres of private forest was a modern, two-story estate built of stone, cedar, and glass. A crystal-clear stream wound its way past the front porch, where two wooden rocking chairs sat looking out over the valley.
Down by the edge of the stream, Marcus was laughing loudly, wearing yellow rainboots, splashing water with a long wooden stick while a massive, gentle golden retriever—a gift from Dominic—chased floating pinecones.
I stood on the wide wooden porch, wearing a soft cream knit sweater, holding a steaming mug of coffee.
There were no iron gates here. No blaring security alarms. No men in black suits standing guard with automatic rifles. Just the quiet, peaceful rustle of autumn leaves in the wind.
A sleek black SUV pulled up the long gravel driveway, coming to a smooth stop near the porch steps.
The door opened, and Dominic Cray stepped out.
He wasn't wearing his tactical uniform or his formal charcoal suit. He wore a simple dark wool coat, grey trousers, and a leather scarf. His right ear bore a tiny, barely visible white scar near the canal, but his eyes were bright, resting comfortably on the peaceful landscape.
He walked up the wooden porch steps, taking off his gloves.
"How is Vermont treating you, Elena?" Dominic asked, his deep voice carrying easily in the mountain air.
"It's quiet," I said, offering him a warm, genuine smile—a smile that held no fear, no tension, no trauma. "It's so quiet I can hear the birds singing half a mile away."
Dominic smiled back—a soft, rare expression that transformed his harsh, scarred features into something remarkably handsome.
"Quiet is a good thing," Dominic said, walking to the porch railing, watching Marcus splash in the stream with the dog. "The legal team finalized the educational trust fund yesterday. Five million dollars, fully managed by an independent board of trustees in Boston. When Marcus turns eighteen, he will never have to worry about college, a home, or his future."
I set my coffee mug down on the wooden railing, looking at the man who had changed our lives forever.
"You didn't have to do all of this, Dominic," I said softly. "The house, the money, the security team patrolling the perimeter road..."
Dominic turned to look at me. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch my shoulder. His hand was large, warm, and steady.
"I didn't do it out of obligation, Elena," Dominic said quietly, his grey eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. "For three years, I lived in a world where I thought everyone was lying to me. I thought loyalty was something you bought, and peace was something that didn't exist."
He looked down at Marcus, then back at my face.
"Your son gave me back my hearing," Dominic whispered. "But you... you gave me back my humanity. You showed me that there are still people in this world who are honest, brave, and good."
My heart fluttered in my chest—a warm, fluttery sensation that had nothing to do with terror and everything to do with hope.
"Are you going back to Chicago?" I asked softly.
Dominic shook his head.
"Lev is managing the day-to-day operations of the logistics firm in the city," Dominic revealed smoothly. "I've stepped back from field operations permanently. I bought the neighboring thirty acres behind your ridge yesterday."
May you like
I blinked in surprise. "You bought the ridge?"
"I did," Dominic said, a playful twinkle lighting up his grey eyes. "I decided I like the quiet in Vermont. And I decided I want to be close enough to hear my favorite little doctor grow up."
