Chapter 4 - The Morning Chicago Found Out
At 7:06 the next morning, the video appeared online.
Not from us.
Someone from the restaurant had uploaded a thirty-second clip.
By eight, it had spread across Chicago.
By nine, local news stations were calling.
By ten, everyone knew the story.
But most didn't know I was Dominic Vale’s wife.
Not yet.
I sat at our kitchen island wearing one of Dominic’s shirts while a stylist tried to repair what was left of my hair.
She finally stepped back.
“Elena…”
“Just say it.”
“We should take the rest shorter.”
I looked in the mirror.
Half my hair was already gone.
I nodded.
“Do it.”
Dominic stood in the doorway.
He had been there for ten minutes.
Silent.
Watching.
The clippers started.
He immediately looked away.
I laughed softly.
“You can watch men negotiate million-dollar deals, but this bothers you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you loved your hair.”
I looked at him through the mirror.
“It grows back.”
“That doesn't make what they did acceptable.”
“No.”
The stylist finished.
My hair was now extremely short.
Different.
But mine.
I stood.
“Well?”
Dominic looked at me.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You have to say that.”
“I absolutely do not.”
I smiled.
His phone rang.
He checked it.
“Charles.”
“Answer.”
Dominic did.
“What?”
Charles Hale’s voice was loud enough that I could hear pieces.
“...contracts…”
“...board…”
“...Preston suspended…”
Dominic's expression remained flat.
“No.”
He listened.
Then:
“Because you’re calling the wrong person.”
He handed me the phone.
I frowned.
“Hello?”
Charles sounded exhausted.
“Elena.”
“Mr. Hale.”
“I want to make this right.”
“Then stop calling Dominic.”
Silence.
I continued.
“Your son didn’t attack Dominic’s wife.”
Charles sounded confused.
“Excuse me?”
“He attacked a waitress.”
I looked toward Dominic.
“That distinction matters.”
Charles said nothing.
“If you make this about Dominic, every server watching learns the wrong lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“That I only deserved protection because of who I married.”
I paused.
“I deserved protection before anyone knew my last name.”
Dominic stared at me.
Charles finally said:
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
Dominic smiled faintly.
Charles sighed.
“What do you want?”
“Start with your son taking responsibility.”
“And after that?”
I thought about Mia.
About Frank.
About every employee who had watched Dennis choose money over us.
“The Monarch Room needs changes.”
“That restaurant isn't mine.”
“But your company owns the building.”
Silence.
Dominic's smile disappeared.
He knew exactly where I was going.
I continued.
“I want independent workplace protections. Employees should be able to remove abusive customers without fearing they'll lose their jobs.”
Charles hesitated.
“That’s complicated.”
“So are city contracts.”
Dominic covered his mouth to hide a smile.
Charles exhaled.
“I'll arrange a meeting.”
“Good.”
I hung up.
Dominic stared at me.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“I was prepared to terrify half the city last night.”
“And?”
“You solved it before breakfast.”
“I’m efficient.”
He walked toward me.
Then he gently ran his fingers over my newly shortened hair.
“You really are beautiful.”
I looked at him.
“You’re still angry.”
“Extremely.”
“Can you control it?”
He kissed my forehead.
“For you?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
His phone buzzed again.
This time his expression changed.
“What?”
I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
May you like
The Monarch Room had released a public statement.
And they had blamed me.
