Chapter 2 - THE SHADOW OF BETHESDA
The cold rain began to fall in thin, needle-like sheets over Bethesda Terrace, but I couldn't feel the chill. My heart was hammering so loudly against my ribs that the roar of the wind sounded like distant thunder.
Behind me, Clarissa Hart was screaming something hysterical about propriety and security, but Sebastian didn't move an inch toward her. His eyes—those lethal, slate-gray eyes that had once looked at me with reverent warmth—were pinned entirely on Owen.
Owen reached up from the stroller, clutching his ragged plush dog, and blinked at Sebastian. In that fraction of a second, the striking resemblance was unmistakable. The line of the jaw, the subtle arch of the brow, and those distinctive silver-gray eyes that had belonged to the Vale lineage for over a century.
"Maya..." Sebastian’s voice dropped into a register so low it vibrated through the damp air. "Look at me."
"No," I whispered, stepping backward and hauling the heavy double-wide stroller with me. "We are done, Sebastian. We were done four years ago when your lawyers handed me a cashier's check and told me to disappear."
"I never gave anyone a check," Sebastian rasped, stepping forward. His hands twitched at his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach for the stroller, or perhaps for me. "I never saw a single document after April sixteenth."
"Lie to someone who doesn't know you," I spat, my voice laced with four years of built-up bitterness. "Clarissa seems eager to buy whatever story you sell."
Clarissa marched over, her designer heels clicking violently against the wet stone. She grabbed Sebastian’s arm, her perfectly sculpted face twisted in disbelief and rage. "Sebastian! What is the meaning of this insane scene? Who is this woman? You are making a public spectacle three weeks before our wedding!"
Sebastian didn't even look at her. He simply shook his arm free with a cold, brutal efficiency that made Clarissa gasp.
"Vance," Sebastian called out without breaking eye contact with me.
Out of the shadows of the terrace arches, two broad-shouldered men in tailored dark coats stepped forward instantly. I recognized Arthur Vance—the head of security for the Vale family estate. The man who had personally turned me away at Vale Tower when I was five months pregnant, standing in the rain with hyperemesis gravidarum and a folder of ultrasound scans.
Director Vance’s face was devoid of color. He looked at me, then at the stroller, and his posture visibly stiffened.
"Sir?" Vance asked, his voice tight.
"Secure the perimeter," Sebastian ordered, his tone chillingly soft. "No one leaves this terrace. No reporters, no bystanders, no one."
"Sebastian, you're losing your mind!" Clarissa shrieked. "She’s a nobody! Some delusional gold-digger trying to sabotage the merger—"
"Clarissa," Sebastian turned his head slowly, his gaze cutting into her like a scalpel. "If you speak one more word in front of my children, I will destroy your father’s firm before the sun sets today. Get in the car and go home."
Clarissa recoiled as if she had been slapped. The pure, unadulterated menace in his voice left no room for argument. Tears of humiliation filled her eyes as she turned on her heel and hurried toward the waiting black sedans parked along the terrace drive.
I didn't wait for the rest of the drama to unfold. While Sebastian was turned toward Vance, I yanked the stroller handle and sprinted toward the pedestrian exit facing Fifth Avenue.
"Maya!" Sebastian’s roar echoed off the wet stone arches, but I didn't stop.
My lungs burned as I pushed the heavy stroller through the rain. Noah and Ivy began to whimper, sensing the terrifying shift in energy, while Owen kept his eyes glued to the rear view, watching his father give chase.
I burst through the park gates onto the bustling pavement of Fifth Avenue and threw my hand wildly into the air. A yellow taxi screeched to a halt at the curb.
With frantic, adrenaline-fueled strength, I unbuckled all three toddlers, shoved them into the back seat, folded the bulky stroller with one hard kick, threw it into the trunk, and slammed the passenger door shut just as Sebastian reached the curb.
"Drive!" I screamed to the cab driver. "Astoria! Just drive!"
May you like
Through the glass of the rear window, I watched Sebastian Vale standing in the downpour. His coat was ruined, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped. He didn't run after the cab. He just stood there, pulling out his phone, his gray eyes locking onto mine through the rain-streaked glass until the traffic swallowed us whole.
He knew where to look now. And I knew, with absolute, terrifying certainty, that my four years of peace were over.
