Chapter 17 - The Ghost Returns
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Two weeks passed. The winter winds of Chicago howled outside the windows of Vincent’s main, fully restored compound. The underworld had settled into a terrified, respectful peace. Word had spread of Marco’s death and Elena’s fate. The King of the Lake was back, and he was more ruthless than ever.
But inside the compound, life had fundamentally changed.
I was officially on the payroll, but I was no longer treated like a nurse. Silas and the guards deferred to me. I had an office. I had a permanent suite down the hall from Vincent.
His physical wounds were healing beautifully. The bullet holes were closed, the stitches removed. But the psychological healing was the true miracle.
He still hated crowds. He still demanded a sterile perimeter. But with me, the walls were gone.
We were sitting in his private study late one evening. A fire crackled safely in the massive stone hearth—a controlled exposure therapy I had suggested, and he had bravely agreed to. He was reading a leather-bound ledger, and I was reading a paperback novel on the sofa opposite his desk.
He closed the ledger, the heavy thud echoing in the quiet room.
“The hospital administration called Silas today,” Vincent said, leaning back in his chair, watching me closely. “They asked when your leave of absence is ending. They want their trauma nurse back.”
I slowly lowered my book, my heart giving a strange, painful flutter. I had been living in a bubble for a month. I had forgotten the real world still existed.
“What did Silas tell them?” I asked carefully.
“He told them you were no longer employed by Chicago General,” Vincent stated, his eyes never leaving mine. “He bought the hospital’s debt, paid off their mortgage, and told the board of directors that if they ever contacted you again, he would burn their administrative wing down.”
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I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. “Vincent… you can't just buy a hospital because you don't want me to go back to work.”
“I didn't buy it for that,” he said, standing up and walking slowly around the desk toward me. “I bought it so nobody could ever mock you, overlook you, or treat you like you are anything less than royalty ever again. You own it now, Nora. It’s in your name.”
