Chapter 2: The Ghost of the Port City
Chapter 2: The Ghost of the Port City
The VIP lounge behind the ballroom was a world of dark mahogany, leather bound books, and an suffocating silence. Outside, Dominic Reyes, Charles's chief of security, stood like a sentinel, ensuring no paparazzi or curious socialites could breach the door. Inside, the tension was thick enough to choke.
Victoria paced the length of the room like a caged tigress, her silk gown rustling aggressively. "I want an explanation, Charles! Right now! Who is this girl? Why do you have a picture with a common street woman from twenty years ago? And what do you mean, born in love? We have been married for fifteen years!"
Charles sat on the leather sofa, his head buried in his hands. Maya stood by the door, refusing to sit, her uniform stained with spilled champagne and her own blood.
"We've been married for fifteen years, Victoria," Charles said slowly, lifting his face. It looked ten years older. "But before I met you, before my father forced me into a corporate alliance with your family’s banking empire to save our shipping lines... I lived in the port city of Savannah. And I was married before."
Victoria stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth opening in shock. "What? That’s impossible. Your legal records—"
"My father erased them," Charles confessed, his voice dripping with bitter regret. "I was twenty-two. I married Evelyn Vance, a dockworker’s daughter. We had a child. A baby girl named Maya. But when my family’s company faced bankruptcy, my father found your family. He told me that if I didn't marry you, he would ensure Evelyn and the baby disappeared into the system. I thought I was protecting them. He told me he settled a million-dollar trust for them to live safely in Europe."
"He lied," Maya spoke up, her voice small but piercingly clear. She looked directly at the man who shared her eyes. "My mother never saw a single dollar. Your father’s lawyers came with men in uniforms. They threatened her, took our apartment, and forced us into the industrial slums of Chicago. My mother worked three jobs just to buy my asthma medication. She never remarried. She kept that photo under her pillow until the day her heart failed."
Victoria let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Oh, how convenient! A tragic sob story right when the Beaumont estate is about to launch its public trading portfolio! Charles, don't be a fool. This is a setup. She’s an actress hired by our corporate rivals to create a scandal and tank our stock prices!"
"Shut up, Victoria!" Charles roared, standing up so fast the heavy coffee table rattled. It was the first time in fifteen years he had ever raised his voice to her. "Look at her face! Look at her eyes! She doesn't need a DNA test. She is my daughter."
He took a step toward Maya, his eyes pleading. "Maya... I swear to you, I didn't know. I was told you were safe in France. I was told you were happy."
"I was happy," Maya said softly, a cold dignity in her expression that left Charles breathless. "Because my mother loved me. We didn't have your marble floors or your diamonds, Mr. Beaumont. But we had honor. I didn't come here tonight to ask for your money. I took this catering job because I wanted to see the face of the man who left us for a crown. And now I’ve seen it."
May you like
She turned toward the door, but before she could turn the brass handle, Victoria stepped into her path, her face twisted with a desperate, defensive malice.
"You aren't going anywhere, you little blackmailer," Victoria hissed. "Dominic! Call the police. Tell them this girl stole my diamond brooch from the vanity room. Let's see how much her 'honor' is worth in a county jail."
