Chapter 5 - Secrets at the TableAs they ate, the initial tension hung thick like smoke, but the sheer, primal comfort of warm food began to melt the ice in the room. Daisy devoured a plate of honey-glazed ham and roasted potatoes with unbridled joy, her eyes widening at the taste of food she hadn't seen in months.
Julian watched them over the rim of a crystal glass filled with sparkling water. He hadn't touched his own food.
"Why are you alone?" Jenna asked before she could stop herself. The question slipped out, fueled by a mixture of curiosity and the surreal nature of their situation. A billionaire on Christmas Eve, surrounded by luxury, looking like a man serving a life sentence.
Julian set his glass down. The sound was crisp against the wood. "My wife left three years ago. My son lives in London with a mother who despises me. This house... is a tax shelter and a monument to my own efficiency."
"Efficiency doesn't keep you warm at night," Jenna murmured, slicing a piece of bread for Daisy.
Julian let out a short, bitter laugh. "Truer words were never spoken by a cleaning lady."
"I wasn't always a cleaning lady, Mr. Hale."
"I know," Julian said softly, catching her off guard. "I know who you were. I know your husband’s mistakes, but... I also know the audit reports were altered by my vice president to force the buyout. I found out six months after your husband died."
Jenna stopped chewing. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. "You... you knew?"
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"I know everything that happens in my companies, Mrs. Carter. Usually, I don't care. Profit has no conscience." Julian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes locking onto hers. "But looking at you tonight... looking at what my 'efficiency' reduced your family to... it leaves a bitter taste."
Before Jenna could process the confession, a sharp, violent crash echoed from the front hallway.
