Chapter 4
A Dangerous Dinner Guest
The doorknob rattled again.
“Eleanor? Open up.”
Graham’s voice was sharper now, losing its public polish.
I dropped the last pages into the safe.
I slammed the steel door shut.
I spun the dial and shoved the oil painting back into place.
I grabbed the black leather binder and stuffed it under the sofa cushions.
I exhaled a shaky breath.
I walked across the room and turned the key.
I pulled the door open.
Graham stood in the doorway.
His brow was furrowed.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned my face.
“Why was the door locked?” he asked.
“I needed a moment to breathe,” I said smoothly.
My voice didn't shake.
Survival instinct is a terrifyingly effective mask.
“Senator Vance is asking for you,” Graham said, stepping past me.
He didn't look at the desk.
He didn't notice the slight misalignment of the painting.
“He wants to discuss the port expansion contract.”
“Let him wait,” I replied, walking toward the mirror to fix my hair.
Graham stopped.
He turned around slowly.
“What did you say?”
“I said let him wait,” I repeated, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
“You’ve spent ten years making people wait on your schedule, Graham. Surely a senator can spare five minutes.”
Graham stepped closer.
His nostrils flared slightly.
The charming mask slipped for a fraction of a second.
“You’ve been acting strange all evening,” he said.
“Have I?”
“Where were you when I made the toast?”
“Right where you left me,” I lied without blinking.
“Listening to every single word.”
He stared at me, searching for cracks.
He found none.
“Get downstairs,” he commanded coldly.
“Don't embarrass me in front of Vance.”
“I would never do that,” I whispered.
“You don't even know what I’m capable of.”
He laughed a short, dismissive sound.
“Nobody crosses me, Eleanor. Remember that.”
He turned and walked out.
I followed two steps behind.
Downstairs, the ballroom was deafening.
Senator Vance stood near the grand piano.
He was a heavy-set man with cold grey eyes and silver hair.
He held a glass of bourbon like a weapon.
“Ah, the birthday girl,” Vance boomed as we approached.
“Or should I say, the queen of Charleston.”
“Senator,” I said, offering a polite, distant smile.
“Graham tells me you’re expanding the shipping docks,” I added smoothly.
“Oh?” Vance raised an eyebrow, glancing at Graham.
“Family business?”
“Eleanor’s father built those docks,” Graham interjected quickly.
His voice carried a warning edge.
“And my husband is currently managing them,” I finished for him.
“Very efficiently, I assume.”
Vance chuckled, a dry, rasping sound.
“Efficiency is my middle name, Mrs. Calloway. Though sometimes old secrets get in the way of progress.”
“Secrets always come out, Senator,” I said softly.
“Especially the ones buried underwater.”
Graham’s hand tightened around his glass so hard I thought the crystal would shatter.
His eyes locked onto mine with lethal intensity.
He knew.
Not everything.
May you like
But he knew I was no longer his obedient wife.
And down in the harbor, a storm was rolling in off the Atlantic.
