Chapter 2 - The Tribeca Sanctuary
The heavy steel door of my Tribeca loft clicked open, welcoming us into a space that usually felt cold, minimalist, and excessively sterile. Tonight, it felt like an emergency shelter.
“Go on inside, boys,” Mara said gently as she unbuckled Milo, the boldest of the quadruplets, who rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned. Max, Mason, and Micah tumbled out after him, looking around the expansive, high-ceilinged loft with wide, curious eyes.
“Is this a hotel, Mom?” Mason asked, touching the sleek leather of the sectional sofa.
“It’s a place to sleep, buddy,” I answered, kneeling down to help them with their heavy coats. Up close, the resemblance was uncanny. Their hair fell across their foreheads in the exact same wave; their fingers twitched with the same nervous habit I had tried to break for thirty years.
Mara walked straight toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glowing lights of the Hudson River, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as if trying to keep warm against a chill that came from deep inside.
I walked over to the kitchen island, pulled out a bottle of rare Scotch, and poured two fingers into a heavy crystal tumbler before thinking better of it and grabbing two bottles of water instead. I handed one to Mara.
She took it without looking at me. “You have a lot of nerve bringing us here, Julian. What happens tomorrow when Brielle Cartwright’s father realizes you abandoned his daughter in front of five hundred elite guests at your own engagement gala?”
“Let him realize it,” I snapped, slamming the water bottle down on the counter. The plastic cracked under my grip. “My entire life has been scripted by Victoria Whitaker since the day I was born. Every suit I wear, every contract I sign, every woman I’m told to love—it’s all part of her master plan to merge our holdings with the Cartwright group.”
Mara turned around, her green eyes flashing. “And what about us? Are we just another glitch in your mother’s corporate algorithm?”
“No,” I said, stepping closer to her, closing the distance between us until I could smell the familiar scent of rain and vanilla that I thought I’d lost forever. “You are the only real thing that ever happened to me. And if my mother had a hand in driving you away—if she threatened you and my children—she’s about to find out what happens when she pushes a Whitaker too far.”
Before Mara could reply, a soft rustle came from the hallway. Milo was standing there in his oversized navy uniform shirt, clutching his worn teddy bear.
May you like
“Mom? Can we get some cereal? My tummy feels empty.”
Mara’s fierce expression melted instantly into a tender, heartbreaking smile. She knelt down and scooped him into her arms. “Of course, baby. Let’s see what Mr. Whitaker has in his very fancy kitchen.”
