Chapter 14 - THE LAST WAR BEFORE HOME
The bullet struck the wall behind Vincent.
He threw Elena to the floor.
“Stay down!”
More shots shattered the windows.
Security returned fire from outside.
Vincent dragged his mother behind the fireplace wall.
His shoulder screamed.
He ignored it.
Then the shooting stopped.
Too quickly.
A voice sounded through the house speakers.
“Vincent.”
Richard Mercer.
Alive.
Vincent stared.
Richard had supposedly died twelve years ago.
Apparently death certificates were decorative objects in Chicago.
“Come outside.”
Vincent pulled his gun.
Elena grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“If I don’t—”
“Claire is coming.”
His expression changed.
“How do you know?”
“Because she’s Claire.”
Despite everything, he smiled.
Outside, Claire arrived with Marco and federal agents.
Evan was beside her.
His face was white.
“My father is alive?”
Claire looked at him.
“You truly didn’t know?”
“No.”
For once, she believed him.
Richard Mercer stepped from a black SUV.
Seventy years old.
Perfect suit.
Cold eyes.
He held a remote trigger.
“Everyone stop.”
Agents froze.
Richard smiled.
“The house contains enough explosives to remove this entire block.”
Claire’s pulse raced.
Evan stepped forward.
“Dad.”
Richard looked at him.
“You were always sentimental.”
“You used me.”
“I trained you.”
“You murdered people.”
“I built stability.”
Claire had heard enough men use sophisticated words for cruelty.
Vincent emerged from the house.
“Richard.”
Claire’s heart jumped.
He saw her.
And stopped.
For one second, husband and wife simply looked at each other.
Then Richard laughed.
“The divorced couple reunites.”
Claire answered:
“We’re not reunited.”
Vincent glanced at her.
She continued:
“We’re working together.”
Something almost like pride crossed his face.
Richard held up the remote.
“All this for a marriage that already failed.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“No.”
He looked at Claire.
“The marriage failed because I stopped treating it like something alive.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
Vincent continued.
“But she didn’t fail me.”
Then he looked at Richard.
“And you don’t get to use my mistakes against her.”
Richard pressed a button.
Nothing happened.
His face changed.
Marco smiled.
“Remote jammer.”
Federal agents moved.
Richard reached for a weapon.
Evan tackled his father.
The gun fired into the air.
Vincent covered Claire instinctively.
She looked up.
“You don’t have to shield me every time.”
“I know.”
“But you’re doing it.”
“I’m working on balance.”
Despite everything, she laughed.
Richard was arrested.
Elena’s records exposed the remaining network.
Judges resigned.
Executives were charged.
Dr. Price accepted a plea agreement and surrendered every file detailing Vincent’s manipulation.
Anthony received no deal.
Within three months, the criminal network that had shaped both families for decades began collapsing.
Vincent voluntarily separated his legitimate businesses from the criminal operations he had inherited.
It cost him money.
Influence.
Old alliances.
He did it anyway.
Claire remained at Mercer Hospitality.
Evan resigned from the investigation and eventually left the company, giving Claire full operational authority.
She didn’t return to Vincent.
Not immediately.
That was important.
He went to therapy.
Real therapy.
With a doctor Claire did not select.
He learned to tell her things before deciding what she could handle.
He showed up for Lily.
Preschool.
Dentist appointments.
Dance class.
He stopped using gifts to apologize.
Instead, he apologized.
One evening, six months after the divorce, Vincent stood outside Claire’s townhouse.
She opened the door.
“What are you doing here?”
He held a small paper bag.
“Lily forgot her dinosaur.”
Claire looked at the bag.
“You drove forty minutes for a plastic dinosaur?”
“Yes.”
“Vincent Moretti.”
“Yes?”
“You own helicopters.”
“I was told arriving by helicopter might be excessive.”
She smiled.
He stared.
God, he had missed that smile.
Claire noticed.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
“I still love you.”
Her smile disappeared.
He didn’t regret saying it.
“I know.”
“I don’t need an answer.”
That surprised her.
“I just don’t want to hide things anymore.”
Claire looked at him for a long moment.
Then stepped aside.
“Coffee?”
Vincent’s heart nearly stopped.
“Coffee.”
They sat at the kitchen table.
Talked.
Not about getting remarried.
About Lily.
Work.
Fear.
The past.
The future.
Two hours later, Claire asked:
“Do you still think peaceful means boring?”
Vincent looked around the townhouse.
At Lily’s drawings.
At Claire’s books.
At the half-finished cup of coffee.
Then at her.
“No.”
His voice softened.
“I think peace is something you only recognize as precious after you lose it.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
Vincent reached across the table.
But he stopped before touching her.
Waiting.
Claire looked at his hand.
Then placed hers inside it.
“Slow,” she whispered.
He nodded.
“As slow as you need.”
She squeezed his fingers.
For the first time, Vincent understood that getting Claire back was not the goal.
Building something new with her was.
Then Claire smiled.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Vincent groaned softly.
“Of course.”
She laughed.
“I bought a house.”
His face fell slightly.
“For you and Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Claire handed him a photograph.
He stared.
It was the old Bennett family home.
But beside it sat an empty lot.
Claire said:
“I thought maybe someday…”
She hesitated.
“We could build something there.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Together?”
“Maybe.”
Hope hit him so hard it hurt.
Then she added:
“But there’s one condition.”
“Anything.”
Claire smiled.
“You never call my life boring again.”
Vincent laughed.
“Deal.”
May you like
But one year later, when Claire asked him to meet her in the garden behind that house, Vincent discovered she had one final surprise.
She was wearing white.
