Chapter 4 - A Marriage Hidden From Everyone
Nora sat down because her legs would no longer support her.
Her mother's voice continued from the laptop.
Roman stopped the recording.
Nora looked at him sharply.
“Why did you stop it?”
“Because you're shaking.”
“I need to hear it.”
“You need a minute.”
“I've had fifteen years of people deciding what I can handle.”
Roman's expression changed.
He immediately pressed play.
Nora almost regretted the words.
Almost.
But he needed to understand.
Celeste's recorded voice returned.
“Julian Vale's father, Marcus, handled money for Vincent March during the east-wing redevelopment. When Arthur discovered funds disappearing, he asked me to help him trace the original invoices because I had maintained design records.”
Papers rustled on the recording.
“We found duplicated construction invoices, shell companies, and properties purchased through intermediaries.”
Whitmore whispered, “Embezzlement.”
Celeste continued.
“Arthur planned to report everything.”
Nora's skin prickled.
“Three days later, Arthur died.”
The room became completely still.
Officially, Arthur March had died from a heart attack.
Everyone in New England knew the story.
The visionary hotel founder had collapsed at home.
Celeste's recording did not directly accuse anyone of causing his death.
Instead, she said something worse.
“I do not know whether Arthur's death was natural. I only know Vincent abandoned the investigation immediately afterward and demanded that I surrender my interest in the redevelopment company.”
Roman folded his arms.
“Smart.”
Nora glanced at him.
“What?”
“She documented what she knew and what she didn't. No exaggerations.”
“That sounds like Mom.”
The recording continued.
“When I refused, they made my life difficult. Contracts vanished. Accounts were frozen. Lawyers became expensive. Eventually they discovered the one thing I cared about more than winning.”
Nora's throat tightened.
“You.”
Whitmore said it softly.
Nora closed her eyes.
Celeste's voice became quieter.
“Nora, I need you to understand something. I didn't stop fighting because I was weak. I stopped because someone photographed you walking home from elementary school and left the photograph beneath my apartment door.”
Roman's entire posture changed.
Nora's eyes opened.
On the recording Celeste inhaled unsteadily.
“You were nine.”
Nora remembered that year.
Her mother suddenly began driving her everywhere.
Would not let her walk to the corner store.
Installed extra locks.
Nora thought Celeste had become overly protective.
Now she understood.
“I signed what they wanted,” Celeste said. “But I kept copies of everything.”
The recording ended.
Nora stared at the laptop.
Her chest hurt.
Roman crouched beside her.
“Nora.”
She stood abruptly.
“I need air.”
Roman followed her toward a private balcony overlooking the ocean.
Sunlight glittered across the water.
Wedding music floated from below.
Someone somewhere was getting married.
The irony almost felt cruel.
Nora gripped the railing.
“My whole life was shaped by something nobody told me.”
Roman remained several feet away.
“Yes.”
“My mother lived scared.”
“Yes.”
“And Julian…”
She stopped.
Roman waited.
“He knew my name when he met me.”
“We don't know that yet.”
“Don't protect me from it.”
“I'm not.”
“He married me because of her.”
“Maybe.”
“Roman.”
“I won't tell you something is true until we can prove it.”
Nora looked at him.
This man had built a life where information mattered more than emotion.
For once, she was grateful for it.
“You really didn't know?”
“About Celeste? No.”
“You met her.”
“Twice.”
“She liked you.”
Roman looked down.
“She threatened me with a wooden spoon.”
Nora almost smiled.
“You deserved it.”
“I probably did.”
“She said you had sad eyes.”
Roman looked at the ocean.
“She told me not to make you responsible for fixing them.”
That sounded exactly like Celeste.
Nora's eyes filled again.
Roman took a small step closer.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Why didn't you file for an annulment?”
The question surprised her.
“After you discovered who I was,” Roman added. “You could have ended the marriage.”
“I thought about it.”
“Why didn't you?”
Nora stared toward the horizon.
“Because every time I filled out the papers, I remembered the man I married.”
Roman's throat moved.
“And?”
“And I couldn't decide whether he was real.”
Roman looked at her for a long time.
“He was.”
“Was?”
“Is.”
Nora turned.
Roman's expression was open in a way she rarely saw.
“The man who ate frozen waffles in your kitchen at midnight was real. The man who carried your mother up three flights of stairs when the elevator broke was real. The man who married you in Maine was real.”
“And the other man?”
“Also real.”
There it was.
No excuses.
Roman continued.
“I have done things you would not approve of.”
Nora held his gaze.
“Illegal things?”
“Yes.”
“Violent things?”
A pause.
“I've hurt people who tried to hurt people I was responsible for.”
She looked away.
Roman didn't soften it.
He didn't say it had been necessary.
He simply gave her the truth.
Finally.
“I don't expect you to accept that.”
“Good.”
“I've been moving my businesses away from that world for years.”
“For me?”
“For myself, long before you.”
That answer mattered too.
“I didn't want to be the man my father was.”
Nora knew almost nothing about Roman's father.
Only that he died when Roman was nineteen.
“How bad was he?”
Roman gave a humorless smile.
“Bad enough that I learned what fear looked like before I learned multiplication.”
Nora looked at him.
For the first time she understood the sadness her mother had noticed.
Roman continued.
“When my father died, I inherited people who believed fear was the only language worth speaking. It took years to change that.”
“Did you?”
“Not enough.”
Nora touched her abdomen.
Roman's gaze followed.
His voice softened.
“I don't want my child growing up afraid of my name.”
The words hit her harder than expected.
“My child.”
Not possession.
Wonder.
Fear.
Hope.
Roman looked as though he was barely allowing himself to believe the baby existed.
Nora turned fully toward him.
“I heard the heartbeat.”
His eyes lifted.
“Three days ago.”
Roman went still.
“It was…”
She tried to find the words.
“Fast.”
A small smile touched her face.
“Like a horse running.”
Roman's expression broke.
Not dramatically.
His eyes simply filled.
He looked away toward the ocean.
Nora had never seen him cry.
Not when he spoke about his father.
Not when Celeste died.
Not even when Nora left.
But now Roman wiped one thumb beneath his eye.
“Do you have a picture?”
Nora hesitated.
Then she opened her phone.
She found the ultrasound.
Roman stared at the screen.
For a man capable of commanding rooms, he suddenly seemed afraid to touch a phone.
Nora handed it to him.
Roman held it carefully.
“That?”
She pointed.
“That's the head.”
“And that?”
“Leg.”
Roman laughed quietly.
“That looks nothing like a leg.”
“I told the technician the same thing.”
He studied the image.
Then his expression changed.
“Is everything okay?”
“So far.”
Roman handed the phone back.
“When is your next appointment?”
“Tuesday.”
“Can I come?”
Nora stared at him.
Roman added quickly, “Only if you want me there.”
She didn't answer.
Not yet.
Whitmore appeared at the balcony door.
“We found something else.”
Nora wiped her eyes.
“What?”
“One of Celeste's files includes copies of your divorce documents.”
“Why?”
Whitmore looked uncomfortable.
“Because your divorce settlement is connected to the ownership claim.”
Nora followed him inside.
The document displayed on screen contained her signature.
This one was real.
She remembered signing it.
Julian's lawyer had told her it merely separated liabilities.
Whitmore pointed toward one paragraph.
“Nora, did anyone explain this clause?”
She read it.
Her stomach turned.
It granted Julian continuing authority over any undisclosed marital assets later discovered to have originated before their separation.
“I didn't know.”
Roman's voice became cold.
“Who represented you?”
“I couldn't afford a lawyer.”
“So his lawyer prepared both sides?”
Nora nodded.
Whitmore sighed.
“That clause may be unenforceable, but it's why Julian believes he can claim Celeste's shares.”
Roman looked toward the screen.
Then something caught his attention.
“The witness.”
Whitmore leaned closer.
The divorce document had been witnessed by a March Grand executive.
A man named Peter Sloane.
Roman went still.
Nora noticed.
“You know him?”
Roman didn't answer immediately.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“My chief financial officer.”
Nora stared.
“Your CFO witnessed my divorce?”
Roman's face darkened.
“He wasn't my CFO then.”
“When did you hire him?”
“Two years ago.”
Nora felt dread spread through her.
Whitmore looked between them.
“That means the March family, Julian Vale, and someone currently inside Roman's organization may all be connected.”
Roman pulled out his phone.
He dialed.
No answer.
He tried again.
Nothing.
One of his security men stepped into the room.
“Boss.”
Roman looked at him.
“Peter Sloane left Boston thirty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“We don't know.”
Roman's eyes returned to the forged documents.
The puzzle was becoming larger.
And uglier.
Then Nora's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
Her apartment building.
Taken minutes ago.
Beneath it was a single sentence.
You should have left your mother's secrets buried.
Roman saw it.
His expression changed completely.
Nora looked at him.
“What do we do?”
Roman answered without hesitation.
“You don't go home.”
“And where do I go?”
Roman's eyes held hers.
“With me.”
Nora almost refused.
Then another message appeared.
This time, the photograph showed Nora leaving her doctor's appointment three days earlier.
Whoever had sent it already knew.
They knew about the baby.
And beneath the second photograph were five words.
May you like
We know what you're carrying.
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