Chapter 5 - The Answer She Finally Chose
One year later, Faye’s apartment ceiling was still covered in plastic stars.
Elsie had added more.
Some were crooked.
Some had fallen.
One was stuck above the kitchen doorway for no reason at all.
But every night, when the lights went out, the room became its own small universe.
Faye had moved into a better apartment after taking a full-time role with a nonprofit financial-defense center. She helped people understand debt contracts, challenge false loans, and rebuild after fraud.
Nora worked there too.
Liam—Cormac’s former driver, who had turned against Declan—helped coordinate safety planning for witnesses and survivors.
And Cormac?
Cormac was not a boss anymore.
Not in the old way.
He had completed his sentence, sold what remained of Brennan Maritime, and used a portion of his legal assets to create a legitimate freight cooperative for workers who had once been trapped under corrupt management.
People still recognized him.
People still lowered their voices sometimes.
But he no longer expected fear to open doors.
On a quiet Friday night, he stood outside Faye’s apartment holding a small bouquet of daisies.
Not roses.
Not expensive orchids.
Daisies.
Elsie opened the door before Faye could reach it.
“Mr. Cormac,” she announced, “Aunt Faye says you have to knock like a normal person.”
Cormac looked at the child seriously.
“Your aunt is correct.”
Then he knocked.
Faye appeared in the doorway, smiling despite herself.
“You brought flowers.”
“I was advised that they are traditional.”
“By whom?”
“Maeve.”
“That explains the daisies.”
Cormac held them out.
“I was wondering if you would have dinner with me.”
Faye looked at him.
“Is that a proposal?”
“No.”
“Is it a deal?”
“No.”
“Is it an order?”
Cormac’s expression softened.
“Never.”
Faye took the flowers.
Then she looked back at the tiny stars glowing faintly above the room.
The first time Cormac woke beneath that ceiling, he had been lost, frightened, and powerful enough to make most people obey him.
But he had learned that power could not force trust.
It could not buy forgiveness.
It could not turn a drunken promise into love.
Only choices could do that.
Faye stepped outside and closed the apartment door behind her.
“Dinner,” she said. “That is all.”
Cormac nodded.
“Dinner is enough.”
As they walked down the stairs together, he did not take her hand until she offered it.
And when she did, he held it gently.
Not like a claim.
May you like
Not like a warning.
Like a question she had finally chosen to answer.
