Chapter 7 - Ashes and Embers
Three weeks after the collapse of Whitmore Development, the autumn air turned crisp and sharp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and approaching winter through the streets of Chicago.
I sat on the private wrap-around balcony of my penthouse apartment, wrapped in a plush cashmere cardigan while holding Lily in my arms. She was sleeping soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling against my heart, growing stronger and healthier every single day. The dark, suffocating shadow of the past three years had completely evaporated, replaced by the warm, brilliant sunlight reflecting off the vast expanse of Lake Michigan.
My phone vibrated gently on the small glass table beside my chair.
It was an automated security notification from the gates downstairs. A visitor had requested entry to the building lobby.
The name on the digital guest pass reader was Daniel Whitmore.
I didn't move. I simply watched the screen as the lobby camera feed loaded automatically.
Daniel looked unrecognizable. The bespoke Italian suits were gone, replaced by a cheap, wrinkled department-store jacket that looked two sizes too big for his gaunt frame. His hair was uncombed, dark stubble shadowed his hollow cheeks, and his shoulders were permanently slumped in defeat. He looked every bit like a man who had lost everything because of his own unbridled arrogance.
The security guard at the front desk spoke into the intercom phone, looking up at the camera.
“Ms. Sterling? A Mr. Daniel Whitmore is downstairs. He claims he has nowhere else to go and is begging for five minutes of your time. Shall I have him escorted off the premises by police, or do you wish to speak with him?”
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I looked down at Lily, who stirred slightly in her sleep, letting out a soft, contented sigh. Then I looked back at the screen, watching my broken former husband standing in the opulent marble lobby, looking up at the towering ceiling like a beggar pleading at the gates of paradise.
“Let him up, Marcus,” I said quietly into my phone headset. “Send him to the private garden terrace on the twentieth floor. I’ll meet him there.”
