Chapter 5
Nick laid a heavy leather binder on the headmaster's desk.
The headmaster reviewed the seal. His fingers trembled as he turned the first page. He applied his official board stamp with a heavy thud that echoed through the marble lobby.
Then he slid the validated transfer file to Blair.
The staff stood in absolute silence. Nobody breathed. Nobody moved.
Blair took the stamped folder. A smug smile crossed her face. She ran her thumb over the embossed seal like she was checking the quality of expensive leather.
She turned toward Eli and held out her hand.
"Come along, Eli. The vehicle is waiting."
Eli pulled back. His shoes slid on the floor. He grabbed the edge of the bench with both hands.
"Mommy! I want Mommy!"
Nick stepped into formation beside Blair. His broad frame blocked my path. His shoulders were squared. His hands hung loose at his sides.
He didn't look at me.
He was executing his Don's direct instruction.
That was his job. That was what he had done for twelve years. He followed orders. He didn't ask questions. He didn't feel.
At least, that was what he told himself.
One of the younger soldiers stepped sideways and blocked my arm with his shoulder.
"Step back, ma'am."
Eli strained against the escort. His small body twisted. His feet kicked. He reached toward me with both hands.
"Mommy!"
Then Nick's phone buzzed in his coat pocket.
A sharp double-vibration.
He reached into his jacket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen.
He paused.
His thumb hovered over the screen. His jaw tightened.
He brought the receiver to his ear.
He listened.
The lobby was so quiet I could hear the faint buzz of the voice on the other end of the line. A man's voice. Low. Controlled. My father's voice.
"...Understood."
Nick ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Blair motioned to Eli's escort. She was impatient now. She wanted to leave.
"Move along, Nick. Mason wants us at the estate in twenty minutes."
Nick didn't move.
He glanced at the second soldier. The young one. The one who had blocked my arm.
He gave a barely noticeable hand signal. Two fingers. A small tilt of his chin.
The soldier lowered his head and stepped back from me.
Clearing my path.
Blair stopped. She looked back at Nick in confusion. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together.
"Nick? What are you doing? Complete the escort."
Nick kept his eyes on the floor.
"We escort the heir to the vehicle, Ms. Prescott. That is all."
His voice was flat. Empty. But his hands were shaking.
Blair stared at him for a long second. She looked at the folder in her hand. Then at me. Then back at Nick.
Something flickered in her eyes. Something that looked a lot like doubt.
But she was too smart to make a scene. Not here. Not in front of the staff.
She turned and walked out through the glass doors.
Eli reached out toward me as they guided him away.
"Mommy!"
The doors swung shut. The rain swallowed his voice.
Nick took two paces toward the doors.
Then he stopped.
He glanced back at me. He couldn't hold my gaze. His eyes dropped to the marble floor. His jaw was tight.
He took a quiet half-step back.
His face was completely pale.
Blair's voice cut through the rain from outside.
"Nick! Get down here and open the door!"
Nick didn't rush.
He moved with a heavy, cautious slowness. He adjusted his coat. He checked his weapon. He checked his phone.
As he passed me, he didn't apologize.
He didn't offer excuses.
He simply lowered his head.
His jaw was tight with a tension I hadn't seen since the dock war eight years ago.
The dock war. When Mason took a bullet. When I held his hand in the hospital. When Nick stood guard outside the room for six weeks straight because he didn't trust anyone else to protect his Don.
Nick owed me.
He knew it.
He had always known it.
And now, for the first time in twelve years, he was being forced to choose.
I didn't chase them.
I didn't scream for the headmaster.
I didn't claw at the guards.
I stood in the center of the lobby.
The marble floor was cold beneath my wet shoes. The rain hammered against the windows. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.
I smoothed the front of my wet coat.
My hand rested over the phone in my pocket.
The headmaster watched me from behind his desk. He was sweating through his collar. His hands were shaking. He was waiting for a breakdown. Waiting for me to scream. Waiting for me to cry.
I gave him nothing.
I walked past him.
My heels sounded hard and deliberate against the stone.
I didn't look back.