Chapter 11 - DAWN AT CORSINI HOUSE
The storm cleared just as the first pale streaks of dawn began to paint the Boston skyline in shades of bruised purple and gold.
The drawing room had been meticulously cleaned. The blood was gone, the shattered table replaced, and the heavy velvet drapes drawn back to let the morning light flood across the polished floorboards.
I stood by the window in my neat gray housekeeping uniform, holding a fresh cup of black coffee on a silver tray.
The heavy oak door swung open, and Julian walked in. He wore a crisp charcoal suit, his tie perfectly knotted, looking every bit the untouchable head of the Corsini empire. But as his eyes locked onto mine across the room, the cold armor vanished.
He walked over, took the coffee cup from the tray, and set it down on the side table without breaking eye contact.
“You’re still here, Miss Quinn,” Julian noted, a faint amusement playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Where else would I go?” I retorted, raising my chin defiantly. “My contract says room and board included, and honestly, the apartment over the garage has better heating than my old studio in Cambridge.”
Julian let out a low, rich laugh—a sound that felt like warm sunlight breaking through winter ice.
He reached out, taking my hand in his, his fingers interlacing with mine.
“Forget the garage apartment,” Julian murmured, pulling me gently toward him until I was standing right where I had danced four nights ago under the crystal chandelier. “Move into the main house. We have a lot of history to catch up on, Sadie.”
I looked up at him, a small, reckless smile touching my lips.
“Only if I get to pick the music,” I whispered.
Julian’s dark eyes danced with quiet fire as he pulled me flush against his chest.
May you like
“Deal.”
(The End)
