Chapter 17 - The Unbroken CircleSpring came early that year, melting the heavy northern snows and turning the sprawling lawns of Vance Manor into a sea of emerald green and blooming dogwood trees.
The girls turned six in May.
We threw them a massive garden party, though garden party in the world of Elias Vance meant private security teams stationed discreetly along the treeline, armored vehicles parked behind the carriage house, and guests consisting of federal judges, international diplomats, and trusted regional capos who knew better than to bring a gift worth less than a luxury car.
I wore a light ivory summer dress, my hair braided loosely over my shoulder. As I walked across the manicured lawn carrying a tray of fresh lemonade, I saw Elias standing near the grand fountain with Chloe and Claire clinging to his legs like little monkeys.
The terrifying Mafia boss who made grown men weep in dark basements was currently wearing a pink paper crown that Claire had forced onto his head.
“Daddy, you’re the horse! You have to gallop!” five-year-old Chloe squealed, tugging at his sleeve.
Elias looked down at them with a patient, indulgent smile that the rest of the world would never believe existed. Without a word of protest, the king of New York dropped to his hands and knees on the grass, letting his daughters climb onto his back as he began to crawl across the lawn, making horse noises to their endless delight.
I stopped by the edge of the fountain, a lump forming in my throat as I watched them.
How far we had come from that freezing night under the Hudson overpass. From bleeding, terrified, and abandoned in the snow, to this—surrounded by warmth, safety, and an unbreakable love that defied every rule of the underworld.
Marcus walked up beside me, holding a clipboard with final security manifests for the evening. He cleared his throat politely.
“Everything is secure, Mrs. Vance. Perimeter is locked down. The Chicago delegation arrived via private chopper ten minutes ago.”
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“Thank you, Marcus,” I smiled, looking over at him. “Take a break today. Eat some cake. You’ve earned it.”
Marcus gave a rare, stiff smile. “I don't eat cake, ma’am. But I’ll make sure the perimeter guards stay sober.”
