Chapter 9 - The Confession in the Rain
By 3:00 a.m., the gallery had been cleared, federal authorities friendly to Moretti's legal team had quietly hauled Vance and his men away, and the storm outside had cleared into a crisp, starry night.
I stood on the stone balcony outside my apartment building—the very balcony where my tires had been slashed days ago—looking out over the sleeping city.
Footsteps echoed softly on the pavement behind me.
Kalin stepped out of the shadows of the alley, his coat unbuttoned, his dark hair ruffled by the wind. He stopped a few feet away, watching me with those intense, fathomless gray eyes.
"The gallery insurance will cover the damage," Kalin said quietly. "And your position as senior restorer is secure. I already bought out the building's management company. Your rent has been permanently waived."
I let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, turning to face him. "You bought my apartment building just to waive my rent?"
"I bought your apartment building to ensure nobody ever stomps on your ceiling at three in the morning again," Kalin corrected smoothly, stepping closer.
The air between us charged with an electric tension that had been building since that absurd night in the penthouse when I had threatened him with a wooden broom and pink bunny slippers.
"You lied to me," I whispered, though there was no heat in my voice. "You let me think you were just a noisy, annoying neighbor."
"You came banging on my door with a broom, demanding silence while wearing pandas and fuzzy rabbits," Kalin replied, the corner of his mouth lifting into a genuine, rare smile. "You didn't look like someone who needed another dangerous criminal in her life. You looked like someone who just wanted peace."
"I don't think peace is a word that exists in your vocabulary, Kalin Moretti."
May you like
"Maybe not," he said softly, closing the remaining distance between us. His hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face. "But for the first time in ten years, this city feels like home."
His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone. When he leaned down and kissed me, the frantic chaos of the past week simply melted away, replaced by the quiet, absolute certainty that no matter what storms lay ahead, I was no longer standing alone.
