Chapter 6 - THE BLUE MERIDIAN
Six months later.
It was 2:10 A.M. on a cold, crisp October night in Chicago.
The sign above the door of the Blue Meridian was still missing its letter, flickering softly against the wet brick wall on the corner of West Huron. Inside, the bar was quiet, filled with the warm hum of low jazz music playing from an old jukebox in the corner.
Behind the counter, Russell was wiping down the polished mahogany bar with his worn white rag. He looked calm, content, and completely at peace with the world.
At 2:12 A.M., the front door opened.
A couple walked in.
The man was tall, strikingly handsome in a tailored charcoal coat, his dark hair combed back, his pale blue eyes sweeping the room with casual authority. Walking beside him, her arm entwined with his, was a beautiful woman in a dark emerald silk dress, her dark hair falling softly across her shoulders.
Lena Marlo.
She no longer looked like somebody's quiet older sister. She carried herself with the sharp, effortless grace of a woman who ruled an empire alongside the most powerful man in the city. Her face was radiant, her eyes sharp, confident, and full of life.
They walked over to the third bar stool from the left.
Russell looked up, a rare, genuine smile appearing on his weathered face. "Evening, Mr. Vane. Mrs. Vane."
"Good evening, Russell," Lucian said, pulling the bar stool out for his wife with practiced chivalry.
Lena sat down smoothly. She looked at the mirror behind the bar—the same cracked, foxed glass she had watched for three years in fear. Today, she didn't look for threats. She just looked at her husband standing beside her, his hand resting gently over her shoulder.
"The usual?" Russell asked.
"Two glasses of Añejo tequila tonight, Russell," Lena said, her voice rich and warm. "No ice. No lime."
Russell smiled, pouring two heavy crystal glasses of dark amber liquor. He set them down on the bar top.
Lucian raised his glass, looking down into his wife’s eyes.
"To 2:13 A.M.," Lucian murmured softly. "The hour you stopped hiding."
Lena raised her glass, clicking it gently against his.
May you like
"To us," Lena whispered. "And to never drinking alone again."
Outside, the Chicago rain fell softly against the glass windows of the Blue Meridian, but inside, under the soft yellow lights, the cold had finally gone.
