Chapter 4 - THE DIVORCE HE SIGNED ANYWAY
The attack lasted forty-seven seconds.
Naomi remembered every one of them.
The sound of Claire crying.
The smell of plaster dust.
Dante shouting from the entryway.
Adrian’s arm across Naomi’s body as he moved her toward the bedroom.
A bullet punching through the wall two feet from her head.
Then silence.
Sudden.
Almost worse than noise.
Chicago police arrived less than four minutes later.
One attacker was arrested in the stairwell.
Another escaped through the service corridor.
Rafael Mendez was found unconscious beside the elevator after Dante hit him with enough force to break his jaw.
Victor Salerno disappeared.
By midnight, every photograph of Naomi on Adrian’s internal security network had been removed from the system and preserved as evidence.
There had been hundreds.
Grocery stores.
Restaurants.
Doctor appointments.
Her sister’s building.
Her father’s grave.
Naomi stared at the images from a private hospital conference room.
Adrian stood on the opposite side of the table.
Dante remained near the door, his left forearm wrapped in gauze.
Naomi looked at the photographs.
“You really had no idea?”
Adrian’s voice was quiet.
“No.”
“Somebody inside your security team was sending them to Victor.”
“Yes.”
“For nine months.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“And because you were already following me, nobody noticed someone else was following me too.”
Pain moved through his expression.
“Yes.”
The irony was cruel.
Adrian’s protection had given Victor camouflage.
Every strange car.
Every unfamiliar man.
Every camera.
Naomi assumed all of them belonged to her husband.
Some had belonged to the man planning to use her against him.
Dante placed a folder on the table.
“We found transfers connecting Rafael to one of Victor’s shell companies.”
Naomi barely looked.
She was tired.
So tired.
Her hand moved unconsciously toward her stomach.
Adrian noticed.
“Do you need the doctor?”
“No.”
“Water?”
“No.”
“Food?”
“Adrian.”
He stopped.
She looked toward Dante.
“Can we have a minute?”
Dante left.
Adrian remained standing.
Naomi studied him.
There was blood on his cuff.
Not his.
She did not ask whose.
“I’m still divorcing you.”
He closed his eyes.
Just once.
Then opened them.
“All right.”
“You almost lost me tonight.”
“I know.”
“And I know part of you is thinking this proves I need to stay with you.”
His silence confirmed it.
Naomi nodded.
“That is exactly why I have to leave.”
His face tightened.
“Naomi—”
“You saved my life.”
“That has nothing to do with—”
“It has everything to do with this.”
She stood.
“You are very good in emergencies.”
He said nothing.
“You know where to stand when someone is shooting.”
Her voice shook.
“You know how to make six men move with one look.”
She stepped closer.
“You know how to secure buildings, reroute cars, close terminals.”
Her eyes filled.
“But marriage cannot survive as one long emergency.”
Adrian looked down.
“I know.”
“No.”
She softened.
“You’re beginning to know.”
He met her eyes.
That distinction hurt.
But he accepted it.
Naomi continued.
“If I stay now because someone attacked me, I will never know whether I chose you or fear.”
Adrian’s throat moved.
“And you will never know either.”
He looked toward the floor.
“What do you want?”
“The divorce.”
He took one slow breath.
“Then you’ll have it.”
Two weeks later, they returned to the courthouse.
No vomiting.
No dramatic change of destination.
No armed convoy lined visibly along the street.
Dante had security positioned farther away because Naomi asked.
Adrian arrived ten minutes before her.
Their attorneys waited inside.
The final hearing was short.
Almost insultingly short.
Three years of marriage ended in twenty-three minutes.
The judge asked whether both parties understood the agreement.
“Yes,” Naomi said.
Adrian looked at her.
Then said,
“Yes.”
The judge asked whether either party had been coerced.
“No.”
Whether reconciliation was possible.
Naomi’s chest tightened.
“No.”
Adrian’s answer came several seconds later.
“Not today.”
The judge looked at him.
His attorney closed his eyes.
Naomi almost laughed.
The judge clarified.
“Mr. Vale?”
Adrian swallowed.
“No.”
The divorce was granted.
Naomi Bennett again.
Legally.
The name looked strange on the paperwork.
Outside the courtroom, Claire hugged her.
Naomi cried.
Not because she regretted it.
Not because she felt free.
Because endings were rarely polite enough to contain one emotion.
Adrian exited several minutes later.
His lawyer walked toward the elevators.
Adrian stayed.
Naomi’s hand rested against her stomach.
Still flat.
Still private.
Yet both of them looked toward it.
He stopped six feet away.
The same distance he had kept at the doctor’s office.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Me neither.”
She almost smiled.
“Good.”
That surprised him.
“I think I would hate you if you were fine.”
“I am nowhere near fine.”
Silence.
Then he reached into his coat.
Naomi tensed.
He stopped.
Slowly pulled out the ultrasound photograph.
The first one.
Edges already slightly worn.
“I keep it with me.”
Her throat tightened.
“You’ll ruin it.”
“I made copies.”
“Of course you did.”
“Four.”
She laughed through tears.
He smiled.
The moment was dangerous.
Too gentle.
Naomi stepped back.
Adrian understood.
He lowered his hand.
“I’ll see you Thursday.”
“For the appointment.”
“Yes.”
“You’re still invited.”
“Thank you.”
She started toward Claire.
Then turned.
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“What happens now with Victor?”
His expression changed.
“The police are looking.”
“That is not what I asked.”
He knew.
The old Adrian would have hunted Victor himself.
Found him.
Dragged him somewhere without cameras.
Naomi had lived beside that possibility without ever seeing the details.
She had seen enough bruised knuckles to understand.
Adrian looked at her.
“I gave everything we found to law enforcement.”
She stared.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Even the things that hurt Vale Maritime?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
“How much could it cost you?”
“Possibly the company.”
Naomi’s eyes widened.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor survived inside my world because people knew I preferred problems handled quietly.”
He looked toward the courthouse steps.
“He counted on me protecting Vale before exposing what he did.”
Naomi said nothing.
“I’m done doing that.”
A black SUV stopped near the curb.
Dante stepped out.
Adrian did not move toward it.
Naomi asked,
“What if they charge you?”
“They might.”
Fear struck her before she could hide it.
He saw.
“I’m not asking you to worry about me.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t.”
His expression softened.
Naomi hated how easily that happened now.
He said,
“I made choices before you met me.”
“Bad ones.”
“Yes.”
“And during our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Very bad ones.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“You are surprisingly agreeable after divorce.”
“I’m trying a new strategy.”
“What strategy?”
“Not being an idiot.”
“That could take years.”
“I’ve been warned.”
She smiled.
Then walked away.
Adrian watched her until Claire’s car disappeared.
Dante approached.
“Victor’s phone came online.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Where?”
“Indiana.”
“How long?”
“Thirty seconds.”
“Police?”
“Notified.”
Dante hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Victor contacted someone at St. Catherine’s.”
Everything inside Adrian changed.
“Who?”
“A temporary nurse in obstetrics.”
The world narrowed.
“When?”
“This morning.”
Adrian looked toward the street where Naomi had disappeared.
“What did he ask?”
Dante’s face was grim.
“Her appointment schedule.”
Adrian reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
Naomi had just divorced him partly because every threat made him seize control.
He could call.
Order her moved.
Put men around her.
Lock down the hospital.
Instead, he forced himself to breathe.
Then he dialed.
Naomi answered.
“What happened?”
No hello.
She knew him.
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Victor tried to access your medical schedule.”
Silence.
He continued.
“I have not changed anything.”
Another silence.
“I have not sent anyone.”
Naomi finally spoke.
“Thank you.”
“But I need to ask what you want me to do.”
For perhaps the first time since meeting Adrian Vale, Naomi heard him put power into her hands before using it himself.
She looked out Claire’s car window.
“What are my options?”
Adrian explained.
Private appointments.
Hospital security.
A different physician.
No public schedule.
One guard she selected herself.
Naomi listened.
Then made the decisions.
Adrian agreed to every one.
At the end she said,
“Thursday still happens.”
“Yes.”
“You still come.”
His voice softened.
“Yes.”
“But you sit where I tell you.”
A pause.
“Naomi.”
“What?”
“You know I’m going to agree.”
“I wanted to hear it.”
He almost laughed.
“All right.”
She smiled despite herself.
Then his tone changed.
“Be careful.”
Naomi looked at the city.
“You too.”
The call ended.
Across the state line, inside a motel room outside Gary, Indiana, Victor Salerno watched footage of Naomi leaving the courthouse.
He poured whiskey into a plastic cup.
Beside him sat a Vale Maritime employee badge.
A hospital access card.
And a photograph taken at Naomi’s first ultrasound.
Victor stared at the tiny image.
Then smiled.
“Congratulations, Adrian.”
He lifted the glass.
May you like
“You finally have something worth losing.”
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