Chapter 14 - Shadows Lifted from the Skyline
Three weeks later, the physical bruises had faded into faint golden memories, and the stiff foam cervical collar was locked away permanently in the bottom drawer of my desk.
Chicago had transitioned into the crisp, vibrant embrace of late autumn, the trees along Michigan Avenue blazing with brilliant shades of amber and crimson.
The fallout from the Sterling & Cross financial collapse had dominated the front pages of the Chicago Tribune for a solid week, with federal prosecutors dismantling the municipal laundering rings and Arthur Pendelton cooperating fully in exchange for a reduced sentence.
Victor Vance’s former network was completely neutralized, and Moretti Holdings emerged stronger, cleaner, and more untouchable than ever before.
My desk on the forty-first floor was once again a marvel of pristine organization—no rogue encrypted drives, no mysterious threats, and no midnight phone calls from hospital trauma bays.
Just clean schedules, balanced subsidiary audits, and quiet competence.
Marcus Vance walked past my desk carrying a stack of revised real estate acquisition files, flashing a brief, respectful nod.
"Morning, Harper," Marcus greeted smoothly.
"Morning, Marcus," I replied, stamping a final approval seal onto a municipal zoning permit. "Did Mr. Moretti arrive yet?"
"In his office," Marcus paused, a slight, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Though he specifically instructed me to tell you that his nine o'clock meeting with the municipal planning committee has been postponed indefinitely."
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Postponed? Why?"
"He said something about taking his executive secretary out for an actual, uninterrupted dinner where nobody gets ambushed by a black Lincoln," Marcus chuckled, walking toward the private elevators.
May you like
I shook my head with a smile, closing my ledger and standing up to adjust my blazer.
The world outside the glass window was bright, sharp, and entirely under control.
