Chapter 8 - THE FATHER WHO STEPPED OUT OF THE GRAVE
The Cross Meridian gala glittered forty stories above Manhattan.
Champagne.
Diamonds.
Politicians pretending they did not recognize criminals.
Talia wore black.
Dante wore a tuxedo and the expression of a man entering enemy territory with excellent tailoring.
“You’ve been stalking me,” Talia murmured.
“Monitoring.”
“That’s stalking with a budget.”
“I knew your name. I didn’t know whether you were actually Vincent’s daughter.”
“Until I threw Gavin.”
“That clarified things.”
They separated near the ballroom.
Talia moved through the crowd with an untouched champagne glass, tracking exits and cameras.
Then she saw Lucian Cross.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
Warm smile.
The kind of face people trusted because it looked expensive.
He greeted a senator.
Then stepped aside.
A second man emerged behind him.
Talia forgot how to breathe.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray at the temples.
But she knew his eyes.
Her father.
Vincent Vale.
Alive.
He saw her immediately.
For fifteen years, Talia had imagined what she would do if this moment ever came.
Run to him.
Hit him.
Cry.
Demand answers.
Instead, she stood perfectly still.
Vincent approached.
“Natalia.”
“You don’t get to call me that.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I’m sorry.”
“You let us bury you.”
“I had reasons.”
“Noah saw you.”
“I needed him to keep the key.”
“You used him.”
“I protected him.”
“From what?”
Vincent looked past her.
At Dante.
“From him.”
Dante approached slowly.
“Vincent.”
“Dante.”
They looked at each other like men carrying fifteen years of unfinished business.
Lucian Cross watched from across the ballroom.
Smiling.
Talia noticed.
“What does he want?”
Vincent’s face changed.
“You need to leave.”
“Not without answers.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“The ledger your mother hid contains enough evidence to destroy Cross Meridian and half the people in this room.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you here?”
Her father’s eyes filled with something she could not read.
“Because some cages don’t have bars.”
Suddenly Lucian lifted his glass.
“Vincent.”
A command disguised as a toast.
Vincent turned.
Talia grabbed his wrist.
“Dad.”
He looked at her.
She expected fear.
Instead she saw calculation.
Then Lucian crossed the ballroom, placed an arm around Vincent’s shoulder, and addressed a group of investors.
Talia’s world tilted when she heard him.
“I’d like you all to meet the man who helped build Cross Meridian from the beginning.”
Vincent did not deny it.
He simply raised his glass.
Talia had spent fifteen years believing her father was hiding from Lucian Cross.
May you like
The truth was worse.
Her father was his partner.
