Chapter 5 - THE MORNING AMBUSHThe knock on the door at 7:00 AM wasn't aggressive. It was two polite, measured raps.

I had been awake since 4:00 AM, pacing the small kitchen, drinking black coffee, and watching the black Maybach downstairs remain parked in the exact same spot all night. Sebastian Vale had literally spent the night in his car outside my apartment building in Astoria.

When the second knock came, Noah stirred on the living room sofa where he liked to nap.

“Mommy? Who’s that?”

“Just stay here, sweetie. Eat your cereal,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped animal.

I walked across the creaking floorboards, my hand hovering over the deadbolt. I didn't unlock it immediately. Instead, I spoke through the reinforced wood.

“I told you yesterday, Sebastian. We have nothing to talk about.”

“I know you’re angry, Maya,” his voice came through the door, quiet, exhausted, and carrying the unmistakable gravel of someone who hadn't slept a wink. “And you have every right to be. But open the door. Not as a billionaire. Not as a Vale. Just as a man who wants to look at the mother of his children.”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and turned the lock.

I pulled the door open.

Sebastian looked like a war zone. His designer coat was rumpled, his shirt collar open, his dark hair messy, and dark, bruised shadows bruised the skin beneath his striking gray eyes. He looked older, harder, but completely stripped of his usual armor.

In his hands, he wasn't holding legal papers or a checkbook. He was holding a brown paper bag smelling faintly of warm pastries from the local bakery down the block, and three small, brightly colored juice boxes.

“I didn't know what they liked for breakfast,” Sebastian said, his voice hesitant, his eyes scanning my face as if memorizing every line of exhaustion and defiance. “So I bought chocolate croissants and apple juice. The guy at the bakery said kids like apple juice.”

I stared at the bag, then up into his eyes. “You waited down there all night.”

“All night,” he confirmed softly. “I wasn't going to let you disappear again.”

“You think a pastry and an apology fixes four years of hell, Sebastian?” I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

“No,” he stepped closer, stopping just short of the threshold, respecting my boundary. “I know it doesn't. But I brought something else. Something my grandfather’s legal team tried to burn yesterday afternoon.”

My posture stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thick, slightly yellowed manila envelope, its edges frayed at the corners. He held it out toward me.

“My private investigator hacked into Vale Tower’s internal archival servers last night before Grandfather’s IT team wiped them,” Sebastian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “This is the original security log from November four years ago. Along with a recorded phone call between Daniel Mercer and my grandfather.”

My breath caught in my throat. I slowly reached out and took the envelope.

“Read it, Maya,” Sebastian urged, his eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire. “Read the truth about why you were turned away at that tower.”

Before I could slide the papers out, a screech of tires echoed sharply from the street below.

We both whipped our heads around.

Down on the street, two black SUVs had just boxed in Sebastian’s Maybach. Four men in identical dark suits stepped out of the vehicles, led by a tall, imposing figure with an unmistakable silver cane.

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Sebastian cursed under his breath, stepping past me into the apartment and kicking the door shut. “Hide this,” he said, shoving the envelope into my hands. “If my grandfather gets his hands on those files, we are both dead.”