Chapter 8
At 4:17 a.m., Sadie sat on the slate floor of the bathroom with her back against the bathtub.
Her injured leg extended in front of her.
She had not slept.
Rain became sleet against the windows.
Sirens moved through the distant city, and each time Sadie heard one, she wondered whether it belonged to Callum.
At 5:00 a.m., the deadbolt moved.
Sadie reached for her cane and made her way into the main living space.
Callum stood beside the kitchen island.
He looked as though the city had dragged him through hell and returned him unfinished.
His white dress shirt was torn at the shoulder.
Dark blood covered it.
Not his.
His knuckles had opened again.
Fresh blood fell slowly toward the marble.
He leaned against the counter and stared at the floor.
“Callum.”
His head lifted sharply.
His pupils were dilated.
Violence and exhaustion filled his eyes.
Then he saw Sadie standing in the wrinkled emerald dress with her cane.
The tension disappeared from his body.
He said nothing.
He simply opened both arms.
Sadie dropped the cane.
She crossed the remaining distance awkwardly and threw her arms around his neck.
Callum caught her.
His face disappeared against her neck.
He held her tightly enough to make breathing difficult.
His large body shook slightly.
He smelled of cordite, blood, and freezing rain.
To Sadie, none of it mattered.
He was alive.
“It’s over.”
His voice was hoarse against her skin.
“Declan is gone.”
Then:
“His lieutenant surrendered the territory.”
“It’s finished.”
Callum pulled back and looked at her as though memorizing every part of her face.
Then he stepped away.
The distance felt immediate.
He walked toward the bar and found a towel.
He cleaned the blood from his hands and dropped the stained cloth into the sink.
“Gabe is downstairs.”
Callum looked toward the gray dawn outside.
“With the car.”
Sadie became still.
“Your apartment is secure.”
He continued.
“The nursing home is paid through the next 10 years.”
Then:
“There’s $2,000,000 in a blind trust under your name.”
He did not turn.
“You can leave right now.”
“Go back to the museum.”
“Go back to your quiet life.”
Then:
“And never see me again.”
Sadie stared.
This was the escape.
The clean ending she had demanded from the beginning.
Money.
Safety.
Her mother protected.
Her apartment restored.
No more dead men.
No more blood.
No more Callum.
“Is that what you want?”
Her voice was quiet.
Callum gripped the marble so hard the knuckles whitened.
Then he turned.
The devastation in his face was absolute.
“It’s what you deserve.”
His voice broke.
“Look at me.”
He gestured toward himself.
“I’m a butcher.”
Then:
“I’ll always be a butcher.”
His gaze dropped briefly toward the blood on his shirt.
“You are a civilian.”
“If you stay…”
He looked at her again.
“…you don’t go back.”
“The blood doesn’t wash off.”
Then:
“You live in the dark with me.”
Sadie looked toward his shirt.
Toward the city slowly waking below.
Thousands of people were beginning ordinary mornings without knowing a war had been fought in the shadows only hours earlier.
Then she looked at the man who had paid for her mother’s care.
The man who had torn through the city because enemies injured her.
Sadie crossed toward the coffee table.
The scotch Callum poured the previous night remained untouched.
The ice had melted.
She picked up the heavy crystal glass.
Walked toward the sink.
Then poured the diluted liquor down the drain.
“I don’t like my apartment.”
Callum watched.
“It’s cold.”
Sadie’s voice remained perfectly steady.
“And the radiator makes a terrible noise.”
His breath caught.
“Sadie—”
“I don’t want a quiet life.”
She moved toward him despite the pain.
“A quiet life didn’t protect me.”
Sadie stopped directly in front of him.
She lifted 1 hand and traced the new injuries along his knuckles.
“You did.”
The fear had disappeared.
So had the hesitation.
The woman who rode the Red Line and believed she could remain outside Callum Russo’s world had been left somewhere behind in the rain.
“You said I belong to you.”
Sadie’s hand moved from his knuckles toward his chest.
She placed her palm over his heart.
It was beating violently.
“So keep me.”
Callum exhaled as though the words had struck him.
Then he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him.
His face disappeared into her hair.
He understood exactly what accepting her choice meant.
He was drawing her permanently into the life he had spent days trying to protect her from.
But Sadie held him back.
And Callum knew with absolute certainty that he would destroy half the world before allowing anyone to take her from him again.
Outside the glass, Chicago woke beneath a gray morning.
The Roman had won his war.
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Inside the penthouse, another surrender had just begun.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously. No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.
