Chapter 5 - The First Night at the New House|
Claire left the hospital three days after Grace was born.
Adrian had sent flowers, a designer baby blanket, and a handwritten card delivered by a private courier.
The card contained only one sentence.
Please let me make this right.
Claire placed it in a drawer without responding.
She did not want gifts.
She wanted the husband who had promised to stand beside her when their daughter entered the world.
That man had never arrived.
Eleanor drove them to a quiet house in Lincoln Park that belonged to Claire's aunt. It had a small garden, a brick fireplace, and windows overlooking a tree-lined street.
It was nothing like the penthouse, but it was peaceful.
For the first time in months, Claire could hear herself think.
That night, Grace began crying at two in the morning. Claire walked slowly around the living room, rocking her daughter while the city lights glimmered beyond the curtains.
“It's all right, sweetheart,” she whispered. “We're going to be okay.”
She did not know whether she was reassuring Grace or herself.
At three, someone knocked on the front door.
Eleanor appeared in the hallway wearing a robe.
“Stay here.”
Claire tightened her hold on the baby.
Through the window, she saw a black SUV parked at the curb.
Adrian stepped onto the porch alone.
Eleanor opened the door but kept the chain fastened.
“You have five minutes,” she told him.
“I want to speak to Claire.”
“She doesn't want to see you.”
“Then tell her I won't leave until she does.”
Eleanor looked at him with exhausted contempt.
“You still think every problem can be solved by refusing to accept an answer.”
Adrian's gaze shifted past her.
“Is Grace awake?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see her?”
“Claire will decide that.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Claire, please.”
She stood just out of sight, listening to the man she had loved for six years.
“I'm not here to argue,” he continued. “I know I failed you.”
The words nearly undid her.
Then he added, “But you can't erase me from my daughter's life.”
Claire closed her eyes.
She had never intended to erase him. She had intended to stop letting him decide how much pain she should tolerate.
She stepped into view, holding Grace against her shoulder.
Adrian stared at the baby.
His expression changed completely.
For several seconds, the feared Mafia boss looked like a frightened young man seeing something precious he had almost lost.
“She's beautiful,” he whispered.
Claire's voice remained steady.
“Yes.”
“Can I hold her?”
“Not tonight.”
His face tightened.
“Claire—”
“You don't get to walk into my life at three in the morning and decide that your feelings are more important than my recovery.”
“I know.”
“No, Adrian. You know the words. You haven't learned what they mean.”
He looked down at the porch.
“I can change.”
“Then change without expecting me to reward you.”
She stepped back.
“Good night, Adrian.”
The door closed.
He remained on the porch for another minute before returning to his car.
Inside, Claire carried Grace to the nursery and sat beside the crib.
Her hands were trembling.
Eleanor sat next to her.
“You did the right thing.”
Claire nodded, although tears ran down her cheeks.
“I hate that seeing him hurt still hurts me.”
“That's because you loved him. It doesn't mean you have to go back.”
Across the street, Adrian sat in his SUV and watched the house.
His bodyguards waited for instructions.
Finally, he spoke.
“No one follows her. No one approaches the house unless she asks.”
His driver glanced at him in the mirror.
“And Sophia?”
Adrian looked away from the window.
“Find out everything she has been doing with Richard Reynolds.”
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For the first time, his attention was turning away from the woman who had left him.
And toward the people who might have helped make his marriage a battlefield.
