Chapter 2 - The Cold Chicago Night and the AwakeningThe wind off Lake Michigan howled through the upscale Chicago neighborhood, biting straight through my thin wool sweater.
I had swallowed my pride for Mark’s sake. I had convinced myself that keeping the peace was the mature choice.
Look where keeping the peace got us, I thought, pressing my palm against Lily’s back to keep her warm. Her breathing had slowed into exhausted little hitches, her cheek still flushed where Megan’s hand had struck her.
Fifteen minutes later, twin sets of high beams cut through the falling darkness. Two matte-black Cadillac Escalades swung smoothly into the curb, their tires crunching against the thin layer of early snow on the street.
The passenger door of the lead SUV flew open before it had even fully stopped. Zoe Vance stepped out.
If my in-laws represented old-money Chicago pedigree, Zoe was a force of nature engineered in a laboratory. At thirty-two, she was the managing partner of the most cutthroat corporate litigation firm in the Midwest. She wore a tailored camel-hair coat, stiletto boots that had no business being in a Chicago snowstorm, and an expression that could curdle milk at fifty paces. Behind her, two towering private security consultants stepped out of the second vehicle, moving with calm, professional precision.
Zoe marched up the stone steps, her eyes flashing when she saw Lily’s red cheek.
“Which one of them did it?” Zoe asked, her voice dropping into a register so cold it matched the weather.
“Megan,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “And Mark watched. He told me to let it go.”
Zoe let out a short, sharp breath through her nose. “Mark is an invertebrate masquerading as a man. Get in the car, Chloe. Both of you.”
The security consultant opened the warm leather door of the Escalade, and we slid into the heated cabin. A soft cashmere blanket was immediately draped over Lily’s shoulders by Zoe’s assistant, who was waiting inside with a thermos of hot cocoa.
As Zoe climbed into the seat beside me, slamming the door against the winter chill, she turned her full, razor-sharp attention to me. “You’re not going back to that house tonight, Chloe. You’re coming to my penthouse. And tomorrow morning, we begin dismantling their entire world.”
I looked out the window at the glowing holiday lights of the Peterson brownstone. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like an outsider looking in. I felt powerful.
“Dismantling how?” I asked quietly.
May you like
Zoe smiled, a brilliant, terrifying flash of white teeth. “Did you really think I was just your college roommate, Chloe? Frank Peterson built his fortune on commercial real estate development contracts tied to municipal funds. My firm happens to represent the state regulatory board that audits those exact municipal funds. And as for Mark... he thinks he’s a junior partner at his father’s firm, but his name isn't even on the primary corporate charter. He’s completely dependent on his father's good graces.”
Zoe placed her hand over mine. “They wanted a war. They just declared it against the wrong woman.”
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