Chapter 4 - The Estate
Two days later, three black SUVs pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Hayes estate in Gold Coast.
The estate was a sprawling, historic limestone mansion built in the 1920s, surrounded by ten-foot security walls and hidden behind dense ivy and oak trees. To the outside world, it was an architectural masterpiece. To those inside my circle, it was a fortress equipped with bulletproof glass, state-of-the-art surveillance, and a dedicated security detail that monitored every square inch of the perimeter.
The heavy iron gates slid open silently.
Inside the lead vehicle, Clara sat rigid, holding Lily in her lap while Charlotte, Maya, and Chloe stared out the tinted windows with wide, overwhelmed eyes.
"Is this a castle?" Chloe whispered, her face pressed against the glass.
"It's a big house, sweetie," Clara murmured, her voice tight with anxiety. She was wearing a simple navy dress, her dark auburn hair pulled back, looking like a woman walking into a gilded cage.
The SUV stopped before the grand stone steps. Marcus opened the door, offering Clara a hand with a level of quiet respect that surprised her.
I was waiting on the front porch. Beside me stood Ethan.
Ethan was tall for twelve, with dark hair like mine and his mother's quiet, observing eyes. He was wearing a grey sweater and jeans, his hands tucked in his pockets, looking at the arriving family with genuine curiosity rather than resentment. I had spent the previous evening explaining the situation to him. Ethan understood better than anyone what it meant to protect people.
"Welcome," I said as Clara stepped down onto the driveway.
The four girls clambered out behind her, suddenly shy in the presence of the massive house and the tall boy standing beside me.
"Ethan," I said, placing a hand on my son's shoulder. "This is Mrs. Vance—Clara—and her daughters: Charlotte, Maya, Chloe, and Lily."
Ethan stepped forward, offering Clara a polite, mature nod. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Vance. Welcome to our home." He then looked down at the four girls, his mouth twisting into a small, wry smile. "I hope you guys like video games and large dogs. Because we have two mastiffs and a basement full of consoles."
"Dogs?" Maya’s eyes lit up instantly, her earlier fear vanishing at the magic word. "Big dogs?"
"Huge," Ethan confirmed. "Their names are Thor and Bear. They're downstairs."
Within five minutes, the initial awkwardness began to melt under the sheer weight of childhood enthusiasm. Ethan led Charlotte, Maya, and Chloe inside to show them the grand staircase and the dogs, leaving Clara, Lily, and me in the foyer.
The foyer was massive, featuring a sweeping double staircase, marble floors, and a grand crystal chandelier that cast warm light over the wood paneling.
Clara stood in the center of the room, turning in a slow circle, her hand resting protective on Lily's shoulder.
"It's... overwhelming," she said quietly, her voice echoing slightly off the high ceilings.
"It is secure," I replied, stepping toward her. "The third floor has been converted into a private suite for you and the girls. Four bedrooms, a private living area, and a kitchen if you prefer not to use the main dining room. My staff has already unpacked your belongings."
Clara looked at me, her brown eyes fierce and searching. "You moved everything from my apartment in two hours?"
"My people are efficient," I said calmly. "Your gallery is also being monitored. I have placed two discreet security officers outside your storefront on Michigan Avenue. Mercer's men were seen near your street this morning; they were informed that the property is now under the personal protection of Hayes Holdings. They will not return."
Clara closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. The sheer speed with which her life had been transformed was clearly dizzying. She had gone from being hunted by a ruthless real estate predatory to living in a fortified mansion under the protection of Chicago's most feared man in less than forty-eight hours.
"I don't know how to act like your wife, Alexander," she admitted, her voice dropping into a vulnerable whisper.
"You don't have to act," I said, stepping closer, though keeping a respectful distance. "In public, you simply exist as my wife. You attend functions when necessary, you run your gallery, and you raise your daughters. I will handle the rest."
Lily, who had been quietly exploring the base of the grand staircase, suddenly ran back and grabbed my hand, pulling on my fingers with familiar insistence.
"Daddy Alexander," she said, her voice clear and loud in the massive foyer. "Where are the big dogs?"
Clara gasped slightly, her face flushing crimson. "Lily! No, sweetie, you don't call him—"
I lowered myself onto one knee, looking directly into Lily's small, bright face, completely ignoring Clara's panic.
"They're down the hall to the right, Lily," I said gently, pointing toward the East Wing. "Ethan is waiting for you."
Lily grinned, released my hand, and bounded off down the hallway, her little light-up sneakers squeaking on the polished marble.
I stood up slowly, looking at Clara, whose face was still burning.
May you like
"She doesn't understand," Clara stammered. "I told them on the drive over that this was a legal arrangement, but she's so young—"
"It's fine, Clara," I said, adjusting my watch. "Let her call me whatever makes her feel safe. In this house, names don't matter. Actions do."
