Chapter 18
One Year Later.
The coastal estate was unrecognizable. The heavy, oppressive silence that had haunted the concrete walls was gone, replaced by the chaotic, joyful sounds of life. The imported slate floors were covered in colorful rugs, and the sterile modern furniture had been swapped out for plush, comfortable couches that actually looked inviting.
Harper stood on the sun-drenched terrace, wearing a loose summer dress, a pair of gardening shears in her hand. She was tending to a row of potted hydrangeas, enjoying the salty breeze coming off the Pacific.
Bane lay stretched out in the sun beside her, a massive, snoring lump of black fur. He was fully healed, thick with muscle, his coat shining brilliantly. He no longer looked like a creature waiting for death; he looked like a king resting on his throne. The heavy leather collar around his neck, bearing the word Guardian, had been polished and oiled, a badge of honor he wore proudly.
"He's getting fat," a deep, amused voice drawled from the doorway.
Harper turned around, smiling broadly. Silas leaned against the glass frame, holding two mugs of coffee. He wore faded jeans and a simple t-shirt, looking years younger than the ruthless warlord she had met a year ago. The dark circles under his eyes were gone, replaced by a warmth that was reserved entirely for her.
"He is not fat, he is big-boned," Harper defended, setting down her shears and walking over to take a mug.
"He ate a whole roast chicken off the counter yesterday while we weren't looking," Silas pointed out, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her in for a slow, lingering kiss.
"He's a growing boy," Harper laughed, leaning her head against his chest.
They stood together in comfortable silence, watching the waves crash against the cliffs below. Silas had kept his word. He had liquidated the illegal sides of his empire, funneling his massive wealth into legitimate real estate development. The transition hadn't been easy, and there had been moments of tension, but the leverage of the encrypted hard drive had kept the wolves at bay.
Vance, who had stayed on as the head of a now completely legal private security firm, walked onto the terrace holding a tablet.
"Sorry to interrupt, boss," Vance said, offering a respectful nod to Harper. "But the contractors for the new animal rescue center called. They need Harper to sign off on the blueprints for the rehabilitation wing."
Silas had bought an abandoned warehouse in the city and was funding the largest animal rescue and rehabilitation center in California, putting Harper in charge of the entire operation. It was his gift to her, a way to channel her empathy into something beautiful.
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"Tell them I’ll be there in an hour," Harper smiled.
Vance nodded and disappeared back into the house.
