Chapter 5 Race Against Marcus Vance

The knock came at 6:58 p.m.

Two minutes early. Of course. Marcus Vance had never in his life arrived anywhere unprepared, and he wasn't about to start with me.

I looked through the peephole and my stomach dropped. He stood on my doorstep holding a leather folio under one arm like a guillotine blade, his silver hair immaculate, his expression the exact same cold mask he'd worn five years ago when he handed me a cashier's cheque and told me my presence was no longer required in Damian Blackwood's life.

"Ms. Winters." He didn't wait to be invited. He stepped into my brownstone the way a bailiff inspects a property he intends to seize. His sharp gaze swept the living room, the toy bins, the crayon drawings taped proudly across the wall. "Charming."

"It's home," I said, keeping my posture rigid. "What can I do for you, Mr. Vance?"

"Marcus, please. We're practically colleagues now." He settled onto my sofa without being asked and opened the leather folio. "Mr. Blackwood takes security very seriously. Especially for a high-profile wedding. Everyone in contact with the family undergoes vetting. Standard corporate practice."

"I have nothing to hide."

"Everyone says that." He produced a document and uncapped a silver fountain pen. "Let's begin with identification."

I handed him my driver's license, business registration, and commercial insurance certificates. He read each one twice, the way an investigator reviews fine print he already knows by heart. He wasn't searching for discrepancies. He was evaluating my pulse.

"Your certified birth certificate," he said smoothly. "And the twins' birth certificates."

I set down my teacup so he wouldn't see my fingers tremble. Around us, the brownstone hummed with ordinary life—the radiator ticking, the soft glow of the nightlight. I thought, with sickening irony, that he sat on the cushion where I had nursed two feverish newborns through sleepless nights.

The girls were upstairs. I could hear Rose's footsteps crossing the nursery floor, followed by the soft thump of Lily climbing off her bed. I kept my voice level. "Why do you need theirs?"

"Their names must be entered onto the security manifest for the formal fitting," he replied, never blinking. "Minors require verified documentation to access private estates. I assumed an experienced professional would understand protocol." He smiled thinly. "Unless there is a particular reason not to provide them."

There was a reason. A reason written in indelible black ink inside the locked fireproof box beneath my floorboards.

Mother: Ava Winters. Father: Damian Alexander Blackwood.

I had spent five long years running from that single line of text, and I still hadn't found a way to erase it.

"Of course not," I heard myself say, each word coated in ice. "I keep their original records in my safe deposit box at the bank. I will have certified copies ready for you tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning." He paused, tapping his pen against the folio. Then he closed the leather folder and stood up, slowly buttoning his bespoke suit jacket. "Ms. Winters. May I be entirely candid?"

"That would be a first."

The pale ghost of a smile flickered across his mouth. "Five years ago, I executed an assignment I was paid very well to handle. The settlement cheque. The private car waiting in the rain. The final terms of the separation." He let his eyes linger on the crayon portrait Lily had drawn of two little girls holding hands. "I have often wondered what became of you."

A cold, suffocating dread slid down my spine. "You wondered."

"Professionally speaking," he adjusted his cufflinks with clinical precision. "You were married once, I believe. It didn't take."

"No," I replied, refusing to lower my chin. "It didn't take."

He studied me like an executioner regarding a door he once had the key to. Five years ago, he had read my severance as a liquidation announcement. Now he stood inside my home, and I couldn't tell whether he was here to finish the execution or offer an unspoken warning.

Upstairs, Rose's clear voice called out, "Mommy?"

Marcus Vance's head lifted toward the staircase like a compass snapping to magnetic north. He listened intently. He cataloged every frequency of that child's voice. And for half a second, something dark and unreadable flickered behind his eyes.

"Remarkable children," he murmured softly. "Do they inherit their father's... features?"

"They inherit mine," I said fiercely.

He nodded slowly, and the chilling reality settled over me: Marcus Vance knew. He had arrived at my doorstep tonight knowing exactly whose face he was looking at. The background check wasn't an inquiry; it was an ambush. Damian had dispatched his most ruthless hound not to verify my credentials, but to test my breaking point.

Marcus paused at the threshold, one hand resting on the brass door handle. "One final thing. Mr. Blackwood asked me to convey a personal message." He turned back, his gaze cutting into mine. "He said: I've done the marriage thing once. It was a disaster. I intend to learn from my mistakes this time."

He allowed the silence to thicken between us.

"He also instructed me to inform you," Vance continued in a low, measured voice, "that if his wedding planner has anything she wishes to disclose, she should do so before the fitting. Because after tomorrow morning, everything changes. The contracts. The terms. The legal leverage." He extended a gloved hand. "It was an enlightening evening, Ms. Winters. Goodnight."

I took his hand. My grip remained solid. I had built this entire second life on the iron rule that my hands must never tremble in front of monsters.

Then the door clicked shut, and I was left alone in the hallway, his final warning echoing through my skull like a siren.

After tomorrow morning, everything changes.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Rosa's private line. It rang three times before clicking open, but it wasn't Rosa who answered.

"Mommy!" Rose's voice tumbled through the speaker, breathless and wide-eyed. "Rosa said we can't tell, but Lily found a secret box in her closet, and she's showing everyone the picture!"

My heart stopped beating. "Rose... what picture?"

"The picture of Daddy," Rose whispered happily. "The handsome man with dark hair and gray eyes just like ours. Lily said he's coming to take us to a big castle!"

Behind her, I heard Rosa scream in horror. Then the call abruptly went dead.

A split second later, my screen flashed with an incoming priority alert from Damian Blackwood:

I just received Vance's preliminary report. I am standing outside your building.