Chapter 4 - The Dinner Table of Shadows
By 8:00 PM, the atmosphere inside the Great Falls estate had shifted dramatically.
My sister Clara and my daughter Lila had arrived. Seeing Clara’s jaw drop as she walked through the marble foyer of the estate was a sight I would cherish for the rest of my life. Lila had been thoroughly inspected by Dr. Leland, given a clean bill of health, and was currently fast asleep in a wooden crib placed right beside the triplets’ nursery.
For the first time in seven months, I wasn't worrying about how I was going to buy diapers next week.
I had changed out of my worn interview suit into a simple, elegant dark green knit dress that one of Roman’s household staff had placed in my wardrobe.
A knock sounded on my suite door.
Vance stood outside, looking significantly less hostile than he had on the train.
"Ms. Vance," Vance said politely, bowing his head slightly. "Mr. Vale requests your presence for dinner in the main dining room."
"Oh," I said, catching my reflection in the mirror. "Is it formal?"
"Mr. Vale does not do formal family dinners," Vance replied with a faint, wry smile. "He does business dinners. But tonight, he’s dining alone. Except for you."
I followed Vance down the grand staircase into a formal dining room featuring a twenty-foot mahogany table beneath a massive crystal chandelier.
Roman was sitting at the head of the table. He had removed his suit jacket and tie, wearing a dark grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. A spread of simple, exquisite food—grilled salmon, roasted winter vegetables, and fresh bread—sat on silver platters before him.
He stood up the moment I entered the room.
"Mara," Roman said, holding out a chair to his right. "Please."
I sat down, feeling the soft leather of the chair beneath me. "Where are Clara and Lila?"
"Your sister requested a tray in her suite," Roman said, sitting back down and pouring two glasses of sparkling mineral water. "She said she wanted to watch a movie on an eighty-inch screen and eat truffle fries in bed. I told the kitchen staff to give her whatever she wants."
I couldn't help but laugh—a light, genuine sound that echoed softly against the mahogany walls. "That sounds like Clara."
Roman watched me laugh. The severe, sharp lines of his face relaxed slightly as he took a sip of his water.
"I owe you a proper explanation, Mara," Roman said, his tone turning serious. "About what happened at Union Station today."
"You don't owe me anything, Mr. Vale," I said, setting my napkin on my lap. "I saw a man whose children were in danger. That’s all I needed to know."
"No," Roman said firmly. "You need to know who you’re working for. Victor Kincaid wasn't just flexing his muscles on that platform. His family operates the dark underbelly of the East Coast shipping trade. For twenty years, my family and the Kincaids held a truce. But when my wife died... Victor and his brother Silas assumed I was paralyzed by grief."
"Were you?" I asked gently.
Roman looked down at his glass. The candlelight reflected in his dark grey eyes.
"I wasn't paralyzed by grief," Roman whispered, his voice dangerously low. "I was paralyzed by helplessness. I have four thousand men working for me. I have three billion dollars in liquid assets. And three weeks ago, I sat in a nursery watching three six-pound human beings starve because their digestive systems rejected every synthetic formula on the market. I realized that everything I built was utterly worthless if I couldn't keep my wife’s legacy alive."
He looked up, meeting my eyes with an intensity that made my pulse jump.
"And then you walked into my compartment," Roman continued. "A stranger with seventy-three dollars in her bank account and a heart big enough to save three infants who didn't belong to her."
"They belonged to a father who loved them," I said softly. "That was enough."
Before Roman could reply, the heavy double doors of the dining room burst open.
Vance walked in, his face pale, holding an encrypted satellite tablet in his hands.
"Roman," Vance said, his voice urgent. "We have a massive situation."
Roman’s posture instantly hardened back into iron. "Speak."
"Silas Kincaid just launched a hostile takeover attempt on the Baltimore Port Authority board," Vance reported, setting the tablet on the table in front of Roman. "He’s calling an emergency meeting of the maritime syndicate for eight o'clock tomorrow morning. And... he leaked a story to the Washington Post."
Roman’s eyes narrowed into slits. "What story?"
Vance glanced at me nervously before looking back at Roman.
"They're printing a story claiming you’re mentally unfit to retain custody of your sons due to severe grief-induced negligence," Vance said quietly. "They’ve bribed a disgraced former doula from the hospital to testify that you abandoned the triplets in a private train car today. Child Protective Services in Fairfax County just issued a formal welfare check warrant for this estate. They’re arriving at nine tomorrow morning with state troopers."
I gasped, my hand dropping onto the table. "They’re trying to take the babies?!"
"They’re trying to use state custody to break Roman’s morale before the syndicate vote at eight," Vance said fiercely.
Roman didn't scream. He didn't slam his fist on the mahogany table.
He slowly stood up, looking at the tablet screen displaying the news draft. A cold, lethal stillness settled over him—the kind of quiet that precedes a hurricane.
"They want to play with my family," Roman said softly, his voice echoing in the vast room.
He turned his head slowly, his dark grey eyes landing on me.
"Mara," Roman said.
"Yes?" I answered, my heart pounding in my throat.
"Child Protective Services is coming tomorrow to see if my sons have a stable, healthy environment with proper maternal care," Roman said, stepping toward me. "They want to claim I am an unfit, single father living in chaos."
He extended his hand across the table toward me.
"Stay here," Roman requested, his voice laced with iron and an unspoken, desperate plea. "Not as a hired wet nurse. Stay as the head of this household. Stand beside me tomorrow morning when those officers walk through that door, and help me destroy Silas Kincaid once and for all."
I looked at his outstretched hand. I looked at the man who had protected his sons with his life, who had flown my daughter here safely, and who was now facing the monster of a corrupt system trying to tear his family apart.
I didn't hesitate.
May you like
I reached across the mahogany table and placed my hand firmly into his.
"Let them come," I said.
