Chapter 2 - The Lincoln Park EstateThe black Maybach glided through the iron gates of a sprawling limestone mansion on Burling Street in Lincoln Park as if entering a different dimension.
Nora stared out the tinted window at manicured boxwood hedges, a cobblestone motor court, and a three-story architectural masterpiece that looked like it belonged in a European architectural digest. The rain had cleared, leaving the Chicago streets gleaming under a pale, deceptive spring sun.
"This," Nora said, her voice small in the cavernous leather interior, "is not an apartment."
"No," Cade said, not looking up from a tablet where financial red flags were scrolling past in crimson text. "It’s a house. It has four bedrooms, a garden that Maya can ruin with chalk without anyone complaining, and a security detail that doesn't sleep."
"You said a residential estate. I thought you meant a condo with a balcony."
Cade finally set the tablet down. He turned his body toward her, resting one arm along the back of the plush leather seat. The intimacy of the car suddenly felt suffocating.
"You think small because you’ve spent your life dodging blows, Nora," he said quietly. "Stop it. You are Mrs. Moreno now. The world outside these gates treats that title with terror or respect. You will learn to expect both."
Before Nora could process the sheer weight of his words, the car glided to a halt under a grand portico. The door on her side opened instantly. A tall woman in a slate-gray dress with silver hair pulled into a precise chignon stood waiting, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
"Welcome home, madam," the woman said, her voice a clipped, elegant British purr. "I am Mrs. Higgins, head housekeeper. Master Maya’s school district transfer has already been processed by Mr. Moreno’s office, and her belongings from the studio apartment were retrieved and unpacked an hour ago."
Nora stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the car. "Unpacked? But—we just left the courtroom two hours ago!"
"Mr. Moreno's efficiency is legendary, Mrs. Moreno," Mrs. Higgins replied smoothly, her eyes flickering with a warmth that softened her severe expression. "Allow me to show you to the master suite. Or, if you prefer, the adjoining west wing has been prepared to accommodate your personal boundaries."
Nora glanced at Cade. He was stepping out of the other side of the car, adjusting his cuffs with unhurried grace.
"We will share the master suite," Cade said casually, cutting off any debate before it could form. "We are married. Any other arrangement would invite unnecessary curiosity from my legal team—and the federal agents currently auditing my tax returns."
"Right," Nora muttered, her cheeks burning. "The fake marriage for the feds. I keep forgetting we're playing a part."
Cade stopped walking. He turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a frightening intensity that made the surrounding limestone walls feel like they were closing in.
"The marriage is legally binding, the paperwork is filed with the state of Illinois, and my name is on your ring finger," Cade said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly register that only she could hear. "Do not ever mistake this for a play, Nora. The only thing fake about it is how long I intend to keep my hands to myself."
He didn't wait for her response. He turned and strode up the grand stone steps, leaving her standing with Mrs. Higgins.
May you like
The housekeeper offered a faint, knowing smile. "Shall we go inside, madam? Master Maya is currently in the conservatory eating strawberries and terrorizing the goldfish."
For the first time since the rain-drenched pay phone at Rosie's Diner, a genuine, watery laugh slipped past Nora’s lips. "She does love goldfish."
