Chapter 6 - WHAT DAMIAN VALE FEARED
Three days later, Elena moved into the Beacon Hill house.
Temporarily.
She repeated that word often.
Damian never corrected her.
Arthur was transferred there too, under a private medical team chosen by Elena.
Dr. Lowell was arrested after investigators found falsified medication records.
Dr. Evelyn Price survived the gunshot and was placed under federal guard.
Sebastian survived too.
Barely.
And for the first time in nearly a year, Arthur Vale was improving.
He could say six words reliably.
No.
Water.
Elena.
Damian.
Idiot.
And soup.
The fourth word irritated Damian.
The fifth delighted Elena.
“You taught him that.”
“I did not.”
Arthur looked at Elena.
“Idiot.”
Then pointed at Damian.
Elena laughed so hard her stomach hurt.
Damian stood in the doorway holding Arthur’s medication tray.
“I’m going to fire both of you.”
Arthur smiled.
It was the first time Elena had ever seen him do it.
Life inside the brownstone became strangely domestic.
Dangerously domestic.
Damian cooked badly.
Elena discovered this after he attempted scrambled eggs and somehow burned the butter before cracking a single egg.
“You own restaurants.”
“I don’t cook in them.”
“You have access to Michelin-starred chefs.”
“At six in the morning?”
“Somewhere.”
“Eat your toast.”
“It’s burned.”
“It’s artisanal.”
She looked at him.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“So you keep telling me.”
Then there were quieter moments.
Damian carrying Arthur downstairs each morning.
Damian sitting beside his father in silence.
Damian pretending not to notice when Arthur struggled to lift a spoon.
Damian waiting until Arthur finished instead of helping too soon.
Elena began understanding something.
Damian Vale’s coldness was not absence of feeling.
It was excess.
He felt everything so violently he had spent years learning not to show any of it.
One night Elena found him alone on the rooftop.
Boston glowed around them.
She brought two blankets.
“You’ll freeze.”
“I’ve been colder.”
She wrapped one around her shoulders.
“That sounded dramatically mysterious.”
“It was prison.”
Elena stared.
Damian looked amused.
“Kidding.”
“You’re terrible.”
“I’m learning.”
She sat beside him.
For several minutes they said nothing.
Then Damian asked, “The baby’s father?”
Elena stiffened.
“What about him?”
“Is he alive?”
“Presumably.”
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He didn't want a baby.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“He wanted me to fix the problem.”
His hands curled.
Elena noticed.
“I told him no.”
“And he left?”
“Yes.”
Damian stared across the skyline.
“Name.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“You cannot murder every man who disappoints me.”
“Why not?”
She laughed.
Then realized he wasn't entirely joking.
“He’s gone. That’s enough.”
“For you?”
“Yes.”
Damian nodded.
He respected the answer.
That mattered.
“What are you afraid of?” Elena asked.
He looked at her.
“That was abrupt.”
“You interrogated me.”
“Fair.”
She waited.
Damian’s eyes moved toward the lit windows downstairs where Arthur slept.
“My father dying before I know whether he forgives me.”
“For what?”
“Not being there.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
“That’s guilt pretending to be responsibility.”
“You always talk like that?”
“I charge extra.”
He smiled.
Then the baby kicked hard enough for Elena to gasp.
Damian stood instantly.
“What happened?”
“Relax.”
“Are you in labor?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“She kicked.”
He looked offended.
“That caused that sound?”
“She has strong opinions.”
Damian stared at her belly.
Elena hesitated.
Then took his hand.
Placed it against her stomach.
The baby kicked again.
Damian froze.
Everything changed in his face.
Astonishment.
Fear.
Wonder.
Something almost unbearably gentle.
“She did it again.”
“That tends to happen with babies.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
They were too close.
Neither moved.
Damian’s thumb brushed the fabric over her stomach.
“Elena…”
The front door exploded downstairs.
Glass shattered.
Damian pulled her behind him.
Gunfire erupted below.
Arthur shouted one word from his bedroom.
“Elena!”
Damian reached for his weapon.
But Elena suddenly doubled over.
Warm liquid ran down her legs.
She looked down.
Then up at Damian.
“Oh no.”
His face went white.
“What?”
“My water just broke.”
Another burst of gunfire shook the house.
May you like
Elena gripped his sleeve.
“Your timing,” she whispered through sudden pain, “is unbelievable.”
