Chapter 2 - The Secret He Never Knew He Was Protecting
The first gunshot did not sound like thunder.
It sounded smaller.
Sharper.
A single violent crack that shattered the restaurant's luxurious illusion.
Guests screamed.
Glasses exploded across marble tables.
Chairs tipped backward.
A violinist dropped his bow.
Norah ducked instinctively.
Arthur moved faster.
He wrapped one arm around her waist and shoved her behind the stone partition between the dining room and bar.
“Stay down.”
“Arthur—”
“Stay down!”
His voice was no longer the voice she remembered from their private life.
It was the voice of the man everyone in Chicago feared.
Cold.
Precise.
Commanding.
A security guard charged toward the service corridor.
Another shot.
The guard fell.
Camille screamed.
Greg crawled beneath the host stand.
The restaurant plunged into chaos.
Arthur pulled a small black handgun from beneath his jacket.
Norah stared at him.
Seven months ago, this was exactly what she had feared.
The weapon.
The violence.
The men.
The danger.
And yet the only thought in her mind was her baby.
She pressed both hands over her stomach.
Arthur noticed immediately.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Bleeding?”
“No.”
“Cramping?”
“No.”
He looked at her for half a second longer.
Then he turned away.
“Keep her behind me.”
One of his security men had rushed through the front entrance.
Another appeared from the kitchen.
Arthur gave quick instructions.
“Lock the west exit. Nobody leaves until I say so. Check the cameras. I want every face in this building.”
Norah stared.
The man she'd loved was gone.
Or maybe he'd always been there.
When the shooting stopped, police sirens flooded the street outside.
Within minutes, officers swarmed the building.
The men who had entered through the service corridor were gone.
One had escaped through the kitchen.
The other had been injured by Arthur's security team and arrested.
But Arthur did not stay to talk to the police.
He was standing over Norah.
“Hospital.”
“No.”
“You need to be examined.”
“I said no.”
“You're pregnant.”
“I know.”
His jaw tightened.
“You were going to tell me?”
Norah looked away.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you planned to listen.”
His eyes darkened.
“For seven months I thought you were dead.”
Norah's face went still.
“What?”
Arthur stared at her.
“I searched every apartment. Every shelter. Every train station. Every border crossing that my people could reach without attracting attention. I thought someone had taken you.”
“You thought I was dead?”
“I found your phone in an alley.”
Norah's stomach dropped.
“I threw it away.”
“No.”
Arthur shook his head.
“You didn't.”
Norah stared.
“I left the phone on purpose.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed you to stop looking.”
Arthur's expression broke for half a second.
“You could have told me.”
“I knew what would happen.”
“What?”
“You would send men.”
“Yes.”
“You would find me.”
“Yes.”
“You would bring me back.”
His answer came without hesitation.
“Yes.”
Norah laughed bitterly.
“And that's why I left.”
Arthur went silent.
The police were moving guests outside.
Camille had disappeared into the back of a waiting SUV.
Arthur had forgotten she existed.
His entire attention remained fixed on Norah.
“You should have told me about the baby.”
“I did not know if I wanted you in his life.”
Arthur looked at her stomach.
“A son?”
“I don't know.”
His throat moved.
“Do you have a name?”
“Not yet.”
Arthur's expression softened.
It was the first softness Norah had seen from him all night.
Then one of his men approached.
“Mr. Vale.”
Arthur looked over.
The man's face was tense.
“We checked the camera footage.”
“And?”
“The men weren't here for you.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“Who were they here for?”
The security man glanced at Norah.
Her blood turned cold.
“You.”
Arthur stepped in front of her.
“Explain.”
“They arrived twenty minutes before you did. They asked the hostess about the pregnant server.”
Norah's heart stopped.
“What?”
“They knew her schedule.”
Arthur slowly turned toward Norah.
She shook her head.
“I didn't tell anyone.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
“I know you.”
Arthur crouched in front of her.
“What have you been hiding?”
Norah swallowed.
“Nothing.”
“Norah.”
Her eyes filled.
“Nothing that belongs to you.”
Arthur's jaw flexed.
“That child belongs to me.”
“Maybe.”
The word hit him harder than a slap.
“Maybe?”
“You disappeared when things got dangerous.”
Arthur stared at her.
“I was in Atlantic City trying to stop a war.”
“And I was in Chicago trying to stop my life from becoming one.”
Silence.
Then a paramedic approached.
“Ma'am, we need to examine you.”
Arthur stood.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
Norah took a step toward the ambulance.
“You're not.”
Arthur's voice went quiet.
“I'm not leaving you alone.”
“You have a fiancée.”
His eyes hardened.
“Camille is a business arrangement.”
“That's what men call it when they don't love the woman they're marrying.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
Norah froze.
Arthur looked like he regretted saying it the instant the words left his mouth.
But he did not take them back.
Inside the ambulance, Norah sat while the paramedic checked her pulse and blood pressure.
Arthur remained outside.
He looked through the open doors.
Watching.
Waiting.
Protecting.
The paramedic frowned at the heart monitor.
“Your heart rate is high.”
“I know.”
“Any pain?”
“Just stress.”
“Stress can trigger contractions.”
Norah closed her eyes.
Arthur heard that.
He immediately stepped forward.
“Hospital.”
“I don't need—”
“Hospital.”
She looked at him.
For a moment, old memories rushed back.
Arthur making tea when she was sick.
Arthur sleeping on the floor beside her when she had a fever.
Arthur rubbing her feet while pretending it was beneath him.
Arthur placing a hand over her stomach the first time they thought she might be pregnant.
They had smiled that night.
They had cried too.
Then everything had gone wrong.
At the hospital, Arthur refused to leave the hallway.
Camille appeared around midnight.
Her red dress looked ridiculous beneath fluorescent lights.
She approached Arthur carefully.
“You owe me an explanation.”
Arthur did not answer.
“She is the woman from your past.”
“Yes.”
“The pregnant woman.”
“Yes.”
“Is that your child?”
“Yes.”
Camille's face drained of color.
“And you never told me.”
“Because the engagement is over.”
She stared at him.
“You cannot do that tonight.”
“I just did.”
Camille's lips tightened.
“You have no idea what this will cost your company.”
Arthur looked at her.
“I don't care.”
That answer unsettled her.
“You will.”
“Maybe.”
Arthur turned away.
Camille watched him enter Norah's room.
For the first time, she realized she had never been Arthur's future.
She had only been his shield.
Inside the room, Norah was asleep.
A fetal monitor traced the baby's heartbeat across a glowing screen.
Arthur sat beside the bed.
He stared at the monitor.
Fast.
Steady.
Alive.
His child.
He pressed his fingertips against the side rail.
His eyes closed.
He whispered so softly the nurse couldn't hear.
“I found you.”
Norah opened her eyes.
Arthur looked at her.
“I thought I lost you forever.”
She swallowed.
“You still haven't heard the worst part.”
“What worst part?”
Norah hesitated.
Then she reached beneath her pillow.
She pulled out a folded envelope.
“I got this three days before I left you.”
Arthur took it.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Norah standing outside a warehouse.
Beside her was Arthur's older brother, Daniel.
On the back of the photograph were five handwritten words.
YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR HUSBAND DOESN'T.
Arthur's expression turned to stone.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was mailed to me.”
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
He looked again at the photograph.
Daniel had been presumed dead for eleven years.
Arthur slowly raised his eyes.
“Norah.”
May you like
“What?”
“Daniel is alive.”
