Chapter 12 - Evelyn’s Desperate Gamble
The silence in the grand ballroom was so profound that you could hear the
champagne dripping from Evelyn's dress.
Roman and I walked down the center aisle of the ballroom.
The high-society crowd parted like the Red Sea.
No one dared speak.
No one dared breathe.
Evelyn backed up against the catering table, her knuckles white against the
tablecloth.
Her eyes darted frantically toward the side exit, but two plainclothes
detectives were already standing in front of the door.
"Roman," she whispered, her voice cracking over the dead microphone on the
podium.
"What is the meaning of this circus?"
Roman stopped six feet away from her.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
His authority filled every corner of the room.
"Your four-hour pass expired five minutes ago, Evelyn," Roman said smoothly.
"That's a lie! My father arranged—"
"Your father was arrested twenty minutes ago at Pier 11," Roman interrupted.
"The Coast Guard seized his yacht. They found four million in undeclared bearer
bonds, forged passports in your name, and the offshore wire transfers used to
pay the men who took Nora."
A collective gasp rippled through the hundreds of elite guests.
Cameras flashed incessantly.
Evelyn's face transformed from pale shock into ugly, unvarnished rage.
She looked at me, her eyes filled with venomous hatred.
"You!" she shrieked, abandoning every shred of aristocratic poise.
"You dirty little gutter rat! You ruined my life! You stole my husband!"
She lunged toward me, her manicured nails aimed like claws at my face.
I didn't step back.
I didn't cower.
Before Roman could even intervene, I caught Evelyn's wrist with my gloved hand.
My grip, strengthened by years of kneading heavy bread and hauling cast-iron
pans, clamped down on her like a vice.
Evelyn winced in shock.
I leaned in close, until my lips were inches from her ear.
"God doesn't come down to Pier 42," I whispered in her own words.
"But I came back."
I shoved her back against the table.
Two federal marshals stepped in instantly, twisting her arms behind her back and
snapping heavy steel handcuffs onto her wrists.
"Get your hands off me!" Evelyn screamed, thrashing as they dragged her away.
"Roman! Roman, look at me! You can't love a maid! She's nothing! She's nobody!"
Her hysterical screams faded down the marble corridor until the heavy brass
doors slammed shut.
The room fell into stunned silence once more.
Every pair of eyes was glued to Roman and me.
Roman turned to face the crowd.
He reached out and took my gloved hand in his.
He lifted it to his lips, kissing my knuckles in front of every camera in the
state of Maryland.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Roman announced, his deep voice carrying through the
vaulted ceiling.
"Allow me to introduce Nora Hayes."
May you like
He looked down at me with an intensity that took my breath away.
"The future mistress of the Calder estate."
