Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN IN THE BALLROOM
“Mommy!”
The little boy ran across the polished ballroom floor, his black shoes slipping as he hurried toward the woman Vincent had just called by his wife's name.
Anna turned at the sound. The guarded woman Vincent had been chasing through the crowd disappeared, replaced by a mother whose entire world had just come running toward her.
She dropped to one knee and caught him.
“Leo, sweetheart. What are you doing out here?”
“I couldn't find you.”
“I'm right here.”
Vincent stopped three feet away.
Three years. Three years of waking with the sound of the explosion in his ears. Three years of visiting a grave that held no body. Three years of believing the woman he had promised to protect had died because he had left her inside a burning aircraft.
Now she was kneeling beneath the chandeliers, holding a little boy who looked remarkably like him.
The child had dark hair, a stubborn chin, and the same amber-brown eyes Vincent saw in his own reflection every morning.
Vincent couldn't breathe.
“Anna.”
She lifted her head. For one impossible second, their eyes met.
Then her arms tightened around the boy.
“Don't come closer.”
Her voice was quieter than he remembered. It was also stronger.
Sophia reached Vincent's side, her champagne glass trembling.
“Anna?” she whispered.
Anna looked at her. Something cold passed across her face.
“Hello, Sophia.”
The nearest guests began turning toward them. A photographer lowered his camera. Someone whispered Vincent's name.
He barely heard any of it.
“Is he—”
“Don't.”
Vincent swallowed.
“Anna, please. Is he my son?”
The little boy looked between them.
“Mommy, who is that man?”
Anna stood and lifted Leo into her arms.
“No one you need to worry about.”
Vincent's gaze dropped to the child.
“How old is he?”
“Three.”
The answer was enough. The timing was enough. The face in her arms was enough.
Vincent reached out instinctively.
Anna stepped backward.
“Don't touch him.”
“I would never hurt him.”
“You already hurt him.”
“I didn't even know he existed.”
“You knew I was pregnant when you left me on that plane.”
His face drained of color.
“I was coming back.”
“You promised.”
“I tried.”
“You took Sophia down the evacuation slide. You left me in a smoke-filled aircraft, Vincent. Then the plane exploded.”
“I know what happened.”
“No. You know what you saw from outside. You don't know what happened to me.”
Leo rested his head against Anna's shoulder.
“Mommy, I want to go home.”
Anna kissed his hair.
“We're leaving.”
“Anna, wait.” Vincent stepped into her path. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”
“You had five minutes on that runway.”
His mouth opened. No words came.
She moved around him, carrying Leo toward the ballroom doors.
Vincent watched her go.
Then the boy looked over his mother's shoulder.
“Bye, mister.”
Vincent's chest tightened.
He had a son.
And the son had just said goodbye to him.
Behind him, Sophia whispered, “Vincent, we need to talk.”
He turned slowly.
“Not another word.”
“I'm trying to help.”
“You have been helping yourself for three years.”
He looked toward the doors Anna had disappeared through.
“Find out where she lives. Quietly. No one approaches her or the child.”
Sophia's face went pale.
“Vincent, you can't just bring her back into our lives.”
He stared at her.
“Our lives?”
May you like
For the first time, he seemed to notice the diamond ring on Sophia's hand. He had given it to her two years after Anna's funeral.
Looking at it now, he felt sick.
