He brought two men.

James had four.

I wanted Chloe nowhere near any of it, so Anthony's wife took her downstairs to the hotel's Christmas brunch.

“You should go with her,” James told me.

“No.”

“Grace.”

“My apartment burned because someone thought I knew something about you.”

I folded my arms.

“I want to hear this.”

Russo entered.

He was older than James, with silver hair and an expensive navy suit.

His eyes found me immediately.

“So that's her.”

James stepped between us.

“Her name doesn't concern you.”

Russo smiled.

“It does now.”

“Careful, Victor.”

Russo sat.

“This has gotten out of hand.”

“My employee's home burned.”

“I didn't order that.”

“You ordered pressure.”

“Pressure isn't arson.”

James didn't answer.

Russo leaned forward.

“One of my men went too far. He's been dealt with.”

I felt sick at how casually he said it.

James remained standing.

“You're going to pay for every apartment damaged in that building.”

Russo laughed.

“You're giving me orders?”

“Yes.”

“And if I refuse?”

James put a folder on the table.

Russo opened it.

His smile disappeared.

“What is this?”

“Copies.”

“Of?”

“Financial records your property manager kept.”

Russo looked toward me.

James shook his head.

“Don't look at her. She had nothing to do with it.”

Russo flipped through the papers.

“What do you want?”

“Repair the building. Compensate every tenant. Stop contacting my employees.”

“That's it?”

“And Carver gives the police everything he knows about the fire.”

Russo's face tightened.

“You're willing to bring police into this?”

“You brought a six-year-old into it.”

“I didn't know she existed.”

“Now you do.”

Russo looked at him for a long moment.

Then he closed the folder.

“You've changed.”

James glanced toward the hallway Chloe had disappeared down.

“Yes.”

Russo stood.

“That can make a man weak.”

James smiled slightly.

“Or give him something worth protecting.”

Russo left.

Only after the elevator doors closed did I breathe normally again.

“You just threatened a dangerous man.”

James looked at me.

“He threatened you first.”

“Why?”

His answer surprised me.

“Because I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“What was happening under my own roof.”

“You own hundreds of businesses and properties.”

“That doesn't excuse it.”

“No.”

I stepped closer.

“But it doesn't make everything your fault either.”

He looked at me.

For once, James Moretti had nothing to say.

Then Chloe came running down the hallway.

“James!”

He turned just in time for her to crash into him.

“I made you something.”

She handed him a folded piece of paper.

He opened it.

It was a child's drawing.

Four people stood beside a Christmas tree.

Chloe.

Me.

James.

And a little girl with wings.

James stared at it.

“Who's this?”

“Your daughter.”

His hand trembled.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

“I don't.”

Chloe shrugged.

“So I made her pretty.”

James knelt.

For several seconds, he couldn't speak.

Finally:

“Her name was Sofia.”

Chloe pointed to the drawing.

“Then that's Sofia.”

James closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were wet.

He hugged Chloe.

I looked away to give him privacy.

But he reached for my hand.

And for the first time since I'd met him, James Moretti didn't look feared.

He looked human.

Three days later, the police arrested the man suspected of setting the fire.

Russo paid for temporary housing for every displaced tenant.

My building would take months to repair.

But James had already made another decision.

He handed me a set of keys.

I frowned.

“What are these?”

“An apartment.”

“James.”

“Before you start yelling, it's company housing.”

“I don't believe you.”

“You're an assistant manager now. Managers qualify.”

“Since when?”

He hesitated.

“Since yesterday.”

I laughed.

“You invented a policy?”

“I improved employee benefits.”

“You're impossible.”

“So I've been told.”

I looked at the keys.

Then at him.

“One condition.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I pay rent.”

“Fine.”

“Normal rent.”

“We'll negotiate.”

“No negotiating.”

“Grace—”

“James.”

He sighed.

“Fine.”

Then Chloe walked in carrying Leo.

“Are we going home?”

I looked down at the keys.

For the first time in months, the word didn't scare me.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“We have a home.”