Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Arthur Vale
The air between us turned arctic. Central Park on a crisp autumn afternoon had always been my sanctuary, the one place where the noise of Manhattan faded beneath the rustle of amber oak leaves. Now, it felt like an interrogation room.
"Arthur knew?" My voice shook, barely louder than a whisper, but it sliced through the space separating us. "Your grandfather looked me in the eye when I was twenty-two, pregnant and terrified, and told me you were in Paris celebrating your freedom. He told me you threw my letters into the fireplace without opening them."
Sebastian flinched as if I had struck him across the face. For four years, I had pictured him as an untouchable titan, lounging in penthouses and boardrooms, completely indifferent to the wreckage he had left behind. But the man standing in front of me now was pale, his sculpted jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched beneath his skin.
"Sebastian, we need to leave," Clarissa said sharply, stepping closer and grabbing his tailored sleeve. Her manicured nails dug into the cashmere. "The board meeting starts in forty minutes. Your grandfather’s private physician called twice. You cannot let a chance encounter with an ex-wife derail the merger."
"Don't touch me, Clarissa," Sebastian murmured, his voice deadly quiet. He didn't even look at her.
Clarissa recoiled, her perfectly sculpted face hardening into an ugly scowl. "Excuse me? You’re going to stand here and entertain fairy tales from a woman who disappeared without a trace? Look at her, Sebastian! Look at this setup. She probably saw the press release about your promotion and staged this whole pathetic encounter!"
"Clarissa," Sebastian repeated, louder this time. The temperature in his voice dropped ten degrees. "Take the town car. Go to the office. If you say one more word in front of these children, I will have your security clearance revoked before you reach 57th Street."
Clarissa gasped, her chest heaving beneath her designer coat. She cast a look of pure poison in my direction, glanced once at Owen’s little face, and spun on her four-inch heels, marching toward the park exit.
I didn't care about Clarissa. My focus was entirely on keeping my children safe. Noah was tugging at my jeans, sensing the tension, while Ivy had buried her face in the stroller blanket. Owen, however, was still staring at Sebastian, his wide gray eyes fixed on the man who shared his exact bone structure.
"I didn't stage anything," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I didn't want you to find us. I spent four years praying our paths would never cross again. I built a life for them without a single dime of Vale money."
Sebastian took a half-step forward, his hands twitching at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach out. "Maya... four years ago, Arthur told me you signed the non-disclosure agreement. He told me you took a settlement check for two million dollars and moved back to Ohio because you couldn't handle the scrutiny of being a Vale."
A harsh, disbelieving laugh tore from my throat. "Two million dollars? Sebastian, I worked two shifts at a bakery until my water broke! I lived in a roach-infested studio in Queens because I couldn't afford a security deposit! I never signed an NDA, and I never took a single cent from your wretched family!"
Tears of pure fury burned behind my eyelids. The sheer magnitude of Arthur Vale’s cruelty knocked the breath out of me. The old patriarch hadn’t just severed our marriage; he had built a fortress of lies around both of us to make sure we would never reconcile.
Sebastian stared at me, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. "I signed the divorce papers because Arthur showed me bank transfers to your name. He showed me photos of you boarding a flight to Cincinnati. He looked me in the eye and swore you laughed when he handed you the cashier's check."
"And you believed him," I whispered, the old wound reopening, bleeding fresh poison into my chest. "You looked at three years of our marriage, all the nights we spent dreaming about building a family, and you believed your cold-blooded grandfather over the woman who slept beside you."
"I was blind," he choked out, his voice cracking. "I was an idiot. But Maya, you have to listen to me—"
"No." I gripped the handle of the triple stroller with white knuckles. "I don't have to do anything. You gave up your rights to this conversation the day you had a courier deliver divorce papers to my door with a handwritten note saying I was a mistake."
Sebastian’s eyes flared with sudden shock. "What note?"
I didn't answer. I turned the heavy stroller around, my boots hitting the pavement as I broke into a fast walk toward the subway entrance.
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"Maya, wait!" His heavy footsteps followed, echoing on the stone walk. "Don't run from me! They’re my children, Maya! They’re my blood!"
"They are my life!" I screamed back over my shoulder, picking up the pace, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Stay away from us, Sebastian. If you come near my children, I swear to God I will burn your grandfather's empire to the ground!"
