Chapter 3

When we get home, I have her play in her room while I pack up my things in my room.  It took three suitcases to pack up the items in my room that I wish to take with me.  I carry each item down to the foyer and place them neatly against the wall.  My money is on Lincoln coming home late tonight or not at all, only this time, I doubt he’s going to claim it’s work-related.  I should have divorced him long ago, but he was good to me.  Hell, I shouldn’t have married him, but I was dumb and hopeful.

               I walk to Freya’s room and begin taking out her suitcases and packing them up.  I grab one more suitcase from the master bedroom and finish putting her prized toys in them.  “Not Mr. Bubbles,” Freya stated from her bed.  “Daddy gave that to me after my surgery.  He doesn’t get to come.”

               “Freya, honey, I know how much you love Mr. Bubbles.  I think if you leave him here, you’ll be sad.  I know your daddy gave him to you, but that doesn’t mean he needs to stay behind.  What if we pack him, take him with us, and in a year or so, if you don’t want him anymore, you can give him a new home with another kid?” I offer.  She hasn’t slept without this stuffed whale since Lincoln gave it to her.  I worry that if I leave it behind, she’s going to struggle even more than she’s already going to be.

               “Okay, Mommy, you can pack Mr. Bubbles,” Freya relents with a sigh.  I finish packing her things at six, and I bring them down to the foyer with my belongings.  We sit down at the table where Mrs. White serves us our dinner.

               “Mrs. Carter, can I ask what is going on?  Are you going on a trip?”

               “Mrs. White, I feel it’s only fair to tell you that I am divorcing Lincoln.  He said and did some very hurtful things to Freya today, and I will not tolerate my child being treated in such a manner more than once.”

               “Daddy has a new daughter,” Freya said as her eyes began to fill with tears.  “He says I waste too much money and then took her toy shopping.”

               “That’s terrible.  Have you contacted the Carter family?”

               “Mrs. White, I have nothing to say to the Carter family.  I will leave you a card for two months' salary in case you need to find a new job,” I explain as I pull out a card from my purse and hand it to her.  “Thank you for serving our family for as long as you did.  Please reach out if you need anything, including references.”

               “I hope you girls find happiness.  You are a brave woman, Valerie, and Miss Freya, you have a heart of gold.  Don’t ever change that no matter what others say.  Giving back to those who are sick is not a bad thing or a waste of money.  It is thoughtful and kind,” Mrs. White stated.  Freya gave the housekeeper a final hug before we stood to leave.

               My phone buzzed with a message from Lincoln.  ‘I’ll be home late.  We’ll discuss teaching Freya to lie in the morning.’

               ‘Okay.’  I am not even going to argue or make a comment.  I could, but that would give him the false impression that I still care.  Any feelings I may have held for Lincoln snapped the second he scolded our daughter and allowed another child to call him Daddy and be rewarded.  When Freya had the flu for a week, she saw Lincoln twice and didn’t get a present from him.  I let it be, as I began looking into why he felt it would be appropriate to put a spending limit on the account for our daughter. 

               The next message was telling me that our ride had arrived at our gate.  I buzzed the gate open and instructed Freya to get her shoes on. When I saw the car pull up, I opened the door, wheeling out a suitcase, and Freya did the same.  “Ms. Russo, Mr. Romano sent me to bring you home.  Is there any more luggage?”  A tall man with black hair asks as he exits the passenger side of the car.

               “A few more suitcases inside the foyer,” I answer.

               “Mrs. Carter, please allow me to assist one last time,” Mrs. White called as she wheeled two of the suitcases out to the porch, where the man takes them and carries them down to the car.

               I help Freya into the back seat of the car and buckle her into her seat.  “Mommy, who is Mr. Romano?”

               “An old friend who grew up with your uncles and me.  He will give us a safe place to live for a bit while I plan for where we go next,” I answer.  “His name is Anton.  He has always told me that if I ever needed help, just call him.”

               “Oh.  Is he going to help fix what Daddy did?”

               “I’m not sure, baby.  But I do know he is helping me find out who those two were with your Daddy, and any other secrets your Daddy may be keeping.  I hope that taking you away will help your Daddy see what he did wrong and want to fix it.”

               “I wrote him a letter,” Freya admitted.

               “I know you did.”

               She curls up in the seat against my side as the car begins to drive away from our house.  I’m not taking her completely away from him; she’ll still be in the city if he wants to apologize and prove he’s sorry by never pulling it again.  She’ll still be going to the same school, and I will not block him for her sake.  I just need to protect her from that kind of pain.  She’s only 6, and her father ripped her heart out and stomped on it today.

               After a 25-minute drive, the car is slowing down and passing through a gate.  When the car came to a stop, I glanced out the window to see a replica of a Tuscan villa.  Only Anton Romano would build a house that reminded him of the village his ancestors were from in Italy.  Standing on the front step was Anton, and my breath caught.  He still looked the same as he did the last time I saw him five years ago.  Tall and toned with bronze skin covered with tattoos from the neck down.  His jet black hair slicked back as always.  His strong jawline and brown eyes that strike fear into anyone who crosses paths with him.  I’ve only ever seen the softness in his eyes, but I’ve heard the stories, and I know people know who he is by sheer reputation. 

               I climb out of the car, and before I can turn back to tend to Freya, Anton is walking towards me.  “Val, where’s your princess?”

               “Sleeping,” I answer.  I reach in, unbuckle her, only for the other door to open, and Anton reaches in, lifting Freya in his arms as though she weighs nothing.  I watch in awe as he stands up and walks into his house.  I quickly follow, knowing our belongings will be brought inside by the staff.

               Inside, he doesn’t stop; he just carries her up a large staircase and down a hall.  When I follow him into a bedroom, I stop short.  The room is decorated with pink princess wallpaper, complete with a giant castle design on the wall at the head of a four-poster canopy bed.  He lays Freya down, then turns to a dresser where he pulls out a nightgown and hands it to me.  “I know she’s six, so I got a size seven to be safe,” he explained. 

               “Thank you.  She just started outgrowing her 6T clothing,” I smiled.  He stepped out of the room, allowing me to carefully change Freya’s clothing.  She’s going to be so surprised when she wakes up in the morning.

               Out in the hall, Anton is waiting for me to show me where I’ll be staying.  Thankfully, it’s the room across the hall from Freya’s room.  “Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to wait for me to find out?” Anton asked calmly.

               “He crossed a line.  Allow me to handle this my own way, Anton.”

               “I will let you handle it, but I want to know what line he crossed,” Anton pressed.  As head of the most lucrative trading company and an underground syndicate that everyone knows about, but can’t connect anything to, I know Anton is capable of making people disappear. I want Lincoln Carter to pay for what he did, not disappear.  “Valerie,” Anton calls with an impatient tone.

               “He brought another woman’s daughter to the hospital to be treated, telling the staff that she is his daughter.  Freya has a desire to bring gifts for all the sick kids at the hospital once a month, and I indulge it with the help of Hudson and Gideon.  While making her rounds, she witnessed another child call Lincoln daddy, with a promise of going shopping.  When he saw Freya, he scolded her for wasting money on charity.  When she told him that Uncle Hudson gave her extra money this month, he called her a liar and told me that I should be ashamed of teaching my child to lie about having a brother.  For some reason, even though he met both of them at the wedding, Lincoln is convinced that I am an orphan,” I explain.  “Things were good until 6 months ago when I began noticing little changes, but nothing I couldn’t explain away.”

               “If you are an orphan, then the sky is pink with purple polka-dots,” Anton stated. 

               “I know, but it was never worth the energy to prove him wrong.  When my grandfather died, I asked him to come with me, but he refused due to work.  Freya talks to at least one of my brothers once a week, not to mention my parents two to three times a week.  If he paid attention while he was home, he’d know this fact.  Again, it’s not worth my energy, but what is worth my energy is protecting her from ever feeling pain like that again.”

               “You are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

               “How did you know she liked princesses?”

               “That’s a loaded question, Valerie.  What do you think the answer is?”

               “Which one do you still contact?”  I pressed.

               “Who are you referring to?  I have a lot of contacts.”

               “Both my brothers have kept you up to date on my daughter?”

               “Casual conversations; I even talk to your folks.  Not as much as your princess, but enough to keep my finger on the pulse.”

               I glance around the room and see all the suitcases that have been brought up to my room.  “My nerves are shot.  I need to get some sleep, but thanks for this, Anton,” I state as I wrap him in a hug.  He wraps his arms around me without a word. 

Everyone told me years ago that I’d be the only woman to tame Anton Romano, but I worried about his free lifestyle.  He has women throwing themselves at him, and for some reason, I never trusted his word that he was faithful.  Then he went overseas for six months, which turned into 2 years.  I chose to call off our engagement because of that fear, and two years later I met Lincoln.  We had a whirlwind romance that ended in a shotgun wedding because of Freya.  Had I stuck it out and put some trust in Anton, maybe I wouldn’t be in this position today. 

“No thinking about the past and the what ifs, Val,” Anton whispered as he pulled away from me.  “Get some rest; we’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Okay.”  I nod as he closes the door.  I change into my pajamas, then open the door in case Freya wakes up in the middle of the night.  I turn off the lights, then slip into bed with a deep sigh of relief.  I know there’s a storm coming, but I want one full night's sleep before I prepare for battle.