Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Glass
The penthouse on the 80th floor was less of a home and more of a glass fortress. Wall-to-wall windows looked out over the sprawling, glittering expanse of Manhattan, but every pane of glass was triple-reinforced ballistic acrylic.
The moment the elevator doors slid open, a team of private medical staff in crisp white uniforms was waiting.
"Mr. Vale," a female doctor stepped forward. "We have the pediatric suite prepared as requested."
"No medical tests," I immediately stepped in front of the children, my body acting as a shield. "Nobody touches them."
"Maya, it's just a routine checkup," Sebastian said gently, stepping up beside me. "To make sure they're healthy. Please. They were out in the freezing cold for hours."
I glared at him, but then looked down at Ivy, who was rubbing her eyes and whimpering softly. My pride was one thing, but their health was another. I hadn't been able to afford a private pediatrician in two years; the public clinic in Astoria was always short-staffed and crowded.
"I stay in the room," I demanded. "For every second."
"Of course," the doctor said warmly. "Follow me, ma'am."
For the next two hours, the penthouse became a hive of intense, quiet activity. While the doctors weighed, measured, and examined the triplets—declaring them surprisingly healthy despite their slight underweight status—Sebastian stood by the glass floor-to-ceiling windows, speaking into his encrypted phone in a tone that sent shivers down my spine.
"I want every asset belonging to the Vale Family Trust frozen by 8:00 AM," Sebastian ordered his primary legal counsel. "Issue an emergency injunction against my grandfather’s executive powers at Vale Holdings. If he attempts to access the Manhattan servers, cut the fiber-optic lines directly at the street level."
He paused, listening to the voice on the other end.
"I don't care if he is ninety-two years old, Marcus," Sebastian hissed. "If he steps foot inside this building, have the private security team arrest him for corporate treason and illegal surveillance. I want his head on a legal spike before the market opens tomorrow."
I sat on the edge of a massive Italian silk bed, holding Owen in my lap while Ivy and Noah ate warm soup brought up by the penthouse's private chef. The children were entranced by the luxury—they had never seen a television bigger than a microwave, let alone a sixty-inch screen built into a marble wall.
When Sebastian finally finished his calls, he walked into the master bedroom and closed the door behind him. He looked exhausted, his hair disheveled, the top button of his expensive crisp white shirt undone.
"They're sleeping," I said quietly, pointing to the three tiny bodies curled up together on the massive king-sized bed.
Sebastian walked over slowly, sinking onto his knees beside the bed. He reached out, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of dark hair from Noah’s forehead.
"They look like angels," he whispered.
"They're loud, they throw food when they're angry, and they refuse to eat broccoli unless I cut it into tree shapes," I said, my voice flat. "Don't romanticize them, Sebastian. You didn't earn the right to see them as angels."
Sebastian closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the mattress near Noah's tiny feet. "I know. I know I don't deserve forgiveness, Maya. But please... let me explain what happened four years ago."
"I know what happened," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "Your grandfather decided a girl whose father was a disgraced high school basketball coach wasn't good enough to carry the Vale bloodline. He wanted a merger with the Hart family. And you were too weak to stand up to him."
"That's not what happened!" Sebastian snapped, his eyes flying open, glowing with a fierce, desperation-fueled light. "Four years ago, I didn't leave you because I didn't love you! I left that apartment because my grandfather showed me a photo of a hitman standing outside your college library!"
I froze.
"What?"
"Arthur threatened to have you killed, Maya!" Sebastian stood up, his breathing ragged as he paced the length of the silk rug. "He told me if I didn't sign the corporate restructuring agreement and step away from our secret marriage for six months, he would make your death look like an accidental hit-and-run on 116th Street! I signed those papers because I was trying to buy time to destroy him! I was building a evidence file to put my own grandfather in federal prison!"
The air felt thin, suffocating. "You... you were trying to protect me?"
"I went to Europe to secure the private mercenary network needed to take control of the family board without Arthur noticing!" Sebastian slammed his fist softly against the wooden bedpost. "And when I came back to New York five months later to fetch you... you were gone! My grandfather handed me a death certificate, Maya!"
May you like
My blood went completely cold. "A... a death certificate?"
"He showed me a morgue report from a hospital in Queens," Sebastian choked out, tears finally breaking past his composure and streaming down his face. "He told me you had caught pneumonia in the winter... that you and the baby had died in an emergency room! He built a fake grave in Upstate New York! I’ve spent the last four years visiting a piece of granite in Westchester, thinking I failed to save the only woman I ever loved!"
