Chapter 8 - A New Foundation
Two weeks later, the spring sun was finally warming up the Chicago breeze when Marcus Vance’s flight touched down at O’Hare.
I waited for him by the arrivals lounge, wearing a cream trench coat and sunglasses, holding a simple cardboard coffee cup. When Marcus walked through the sliding automatic doors, scanning the crowd with a sharp, familiar gaze, I raised my hand and waved.
His face broke into a wide, genuine grin as he strode over, dropping his duffel bag to pull me into a warm, comfortable hug.
"Sloan! Look at you," Marcus said, pulling back to look me over. "You look... incredible. Lighter. Brighter."
"Freedom looks good on me," I laughed, leading him toward the parking garage where my car was waiting. "Welcome to Chicago. Are you ready to see what I’ve done with your brother’s former real estate empire?"
As we drove back toward the condo in River North, Marcus talked about his architectural projects in Denver, the brutal Colorado winters, and his decision to finally sever all remaining ties with Fiona.
"She tried calling me last week," Marcus said, shaking his head as I navigated the downtown traffic. "Sobbing into the phone about how Julian is working night shifts at a 24-hour gym just to make rent, and how she’s forced to live in a retirement community that doesn't even have valet parking."
I kept my eyes on the road, my expression completely neutral. "Karma is a very thorough architect, Marcus. She builds from the foundation up."
When we arrived at the condo, Marcus stood in the middle of the newly renovated living room, staring up at the vaulted ceilings and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline.
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"Julian and Mom used to complain that this room lacked 'grandeur,'" Marcus muttered in awe. "They were blind. This place isn't just grand now—it has a soul."
"That’s because it’s no longer built on lies," I said, walking over to the kitchen island and pouring two glasses of sparkling water. "It’s built on my own terms."
