Chapter 6 - The Catering Gig
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“How did you know about the wine, Chloe?” Arthur asked, his tone shifting from a desperate lover to a dangerous, calculating syndicate boss.
Chloe adjusted herself against the hospital pillows, wincing slightly.
“When you left, I couldn't afford the rent on my apartment,” she explained, her voice gaining strength. “I took a second job working for an elite catering company that services high-society events. Last night, we were prepping the rehearsal dinner at the Croft estate.”
Arthur’s eyes darkened. “You were in Malcolm Croft’s house?”
“I was invisible,” Chloe said. “Just a pregnant server carrying trays. Malcolm and Vivien were in the study. The door was cracked. I was coming to collect the champagne glasses when I heard them talking.”
“What exactly did they say?”
“Vivien was crying,” Chloe recalled, a shiver running down her spine. “She said she couldn't go through with it. She said she didn't want to be a widow on her wedding night. Malcolm slapped her. He told her that the poison in the ceremonial cup was untraceable. He said once you took the sip, his men would seize the Romano territories by morning, and she would inherit your legitimate businesses as your grieving widow.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered near his ear. The absolute betrayal of the peace treaty was staggering.
“I didn't know what to do,” Chloe admitted, squeezing his hand. “I didn't have your number anymore. I didn't know who to trust. So I ran to the cathedral today. I ran until I couldn't breathe.”
“You saved my life,” Arthur murmured, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You risked everything to save a man who abandoned you.”
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“I didn't do it just for you,” Chloe whispered, placing her free hand protectively over her rounded stomach. “I did it for him. Our baby.”
Arthur placed his large hand over hers on her stomach. “I am never letting you go again. And Malcolm Croft is going to pay for every tear you shed today.”
