Chương 4
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then something unexpected happened.
A small, tired smile appeared on his face.
Not happiness.
Not amusement.
Just recognition.
“You really don’t know when to be afraid of the right things.”
“People have told me that before.”
“I believe them.”
The train began slowing.
The change was subtle.
The vibration under our feet shifted.
Everyone outside continued living their ordinary lives.
People gathered bags.
Checked phones.
Stood near doors.
Nobody knew that inside one private cabin, a billionaire with enemies was preparing to leave a train carrying three babies and a woman who had nothing to do with his world.
Except she did now.
Because when the door opened, Roman Vale stepped aside.
And instead of leaving first, he waited for me to carry his sons out.
The station air felt colder than it should have.
Maybe it was because I had three babies against me.
Maybe it was because I knew that somewhere in the crowd, someone was watching.
People moved around us without noticing.
A man in a business suit complained into his phone about a delayed meeting.
A woman dragged a suitcase behind her while trying to keep a coffee cup from spilling.
Two teenagers argued quietly about where they were going to eat.
Normal things.
The kind of things I used to think were boring.
Now they felt impossible.
Roman walked beside me.
Not ahead.
Not behind.
Beside.
That surprised me more than anything.
A man like him probably spent his entire life making sure other people walked around him carefully.
But right now he was matching my pace because I was carrying his children.
Victor moved several feet ahead, scanning faces.
He was good at it.
Too good.
Every few seconds his eyes stopped on someone.
Then moved.
Then returned.
“You do that every day?” I asked quietly.
Roman looked at me.
“Do what?”
“Look at everyone like they might hurt you.”
His mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
I expected him to deny it.
He did not.
That was becoming a pattern.
The version of Roman Vale people talked about was built from certainty.
The man standing beside me was full of things he could not control.
We reached the end of the platform.
A black SUV waited near the restricted entrance.
I noticed the driver before I noticed the vehicle.
Older man.
Gray hair.
Hands resting calmly on the wheel.
No nervous movements.
No phone.
No looking around.
That was unusual.
People who worked around danger usually carried it in their bodies.
This man looked like he had learned how to hide it.
“Who is that?” I asked.
Roman followed my eyes.
“Marcus.”
“Should I know him?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
I looked at him.
Roman looked away.
“Not everyone in my life needs to become part of yours.”
“That sounds like something someone says when they’re hiding something.”
His eyes moved back to me.
“You have known me for less than two hours.”
“And you’ve already hidden things from me.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
“You’re difficult.”
“I’ve heard that too.”
Marcus stepped out of the SUV.
“Mr. Vale.”
His eyes moved to the babies.
Then to me.
There was a pause.
Not long.
But long enough.
“This is Naomi.”
Marcus nodded.
“Ma’am.”
The respect in his voice felt strange.
Not because it was fake.
Because it was genuine.
People around Roman seemed to either fear him or obey him.
Marcus looked like he cared whether Roman made it home alive.
We loaded the babies carefully.
Jude stayed in my arms until the last second.
I did not want to hand him over.
That realization bothered me.
I barely knew him.
I barely knew his father.
Yet some protective part of me had already attached itself to three tiny strangers.
Maybe grief did strange things.
Maybe losing one child made you feel responsible for every child you saw afterward.
Roman noticed my hesitation.
“You can keep holding him.”
I looked at him.
“For how long?”
“As long as he needs.”
The answer surprised me.
“You trust me?”
“No.”
The honesty almost made me laugh.
“Then why?”
“Because right now he needs someone who knows what she’s doing.”
That was probably the closest thing to trust he could offer.
I accepted it.
The drive was quiet at first.
Not peaceful.
Just quiet.
The kind of quiet where everyone was listening for something.
I sat in the back with the babies.
Roman sat across from me.
The space between us felt smaller than it had on the train.
Maybe because there were no strangers watching.
Maybe because fear removed unnecessary distance.
Marcus drove through Baltimore traffic without saying much.
Buildings passed outside.
People walking home.
Restaurants filling up.
A delivery truck blocking a lane.
Ordinary problems.
Ordinary lives.
I watched them all.
Roman noticed.
“You like watching people.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“You keep looking outside.”
“I guess.”
“Why?”
I shrugged.
“I used to work nights.”
“At the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And sometimes after a difficult shift, I would sit in my car for ten minutes before driving home.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to remember that the world was still normal somewhere.”
Roman looked at the window.
“That worked?”
“Sometimes.”
“What about the other times?”
I looked down at Jude.
“Sometimes it didn’t.”
He did not ask more.
That was another thing I noticed.
Most people asked because they were curious.
Roman asked because he was trying to understand.
There was a difference.
The SUV turned into an underground parking area beneath a medical building.
The sign outside said nothing special.
No large hospital name.
No emergency entrance.
Just a private clinic.
Marcus parked.
Victor immediately got out.
“We’re clear.”
Roman opened the door.
Then stopped.
He looked back at me.
“You should wait here.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lowered.
“Naomi.”
“I’m coming.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
May you like
I looked at the three babies.
“Because if something goes wrong, I need to know what’s happening.”
