Chapter 13 - THE EMPTY CHAIR BESIDE HIS SON|
The next morning, Gabriel Romano ordered the mansion's dining room to be completely rearranged.
Not renovated.
Not redecorated.
Rearranged.
The twenty-six formal place settings were removed.
The silver dessert cart was taken away.
The enormous floral centerpiece that had blocked Vincent's view of the other guests was replaced with a small vase of white roses.
And the chair at the far end of the table was moved into storage.
I stood beside Mrs. Ellis watching the staff work.
For six months, I'd been responsible for making that dining room look perfect.
I'd polished silverware until my fingers ached.
I'd folded napkins into elaborate shapes.
I'd memorized the placement of every glass, plate, and serving spoon.
But I'd never seen the room feel so welcoming.
Gabriel entered carrying a photograph.
It showed Eleanor Romano standing with her two sons beside a Christmas tree.
He placed it on the mantel beneath her portrait.
Then he turned toward me.
"Claire, does the table look right?"
I glanced around.
"Yes, sir."
He frowned.
"You're sure?"
I smiled.
"Almost."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
"What's missing?"
I walked toward the chair beside his.
Vincent's chair.
I moved it slightly away from the table.
Then I placed a soft cushion against the back.
"He needs a little more room to sit comfortably."
Gabriel watched.
"And his water should be on the left."
He nodded.
I adjusted the glass.
"That way he can reach it with his stronger hand."
For several seconds, Gabriel said nothing.
Then he looked at the chair.
"I should have known that."
I turned toward him.
"You know now."
He gave me a faint smile.
"You're very good at saying things I need to hear."
I laughed softly.
"Occupational hazard."
He looked around the dining room.
"Claire, I want this house to change."
I waited.
"No more pretending everything is perfect."
He glanced toward his mother's portrait.
"No more leaving people alone because their struggles make someone uncomfortable."
I felt a lump form in my throat.
"Your father will appreciate that."
Gabriel nodded.
"I hope so."
At eleven o'clock, Daniel arrived with Vincent.
The elderly man was tired but stable, and his doctors had approved a quiet family meal.
Daniel helped his father through the doorway.
Gabriel immediately approached them.
"Dad."
Vincent smiled.
"Gabriel."
Then his eyes moved toward the table.
He stopped walking.
For a moment, I worried something was wrong.
But then I saw tears sliding down his cheeks.
His chair was beside Gabriel's.
Exactly where it belonged.
Daniel looked around.
"What's wrong, Dad?"
Vincent shook his head.
He was smiling.
Gabriel stepped closer.
"Do you like it?"
Vincent nodded.
Then he looked toward me.
"Claire."
I approached.
He took my hand.
"Thank you."
I smiled.
"You're welcome, Mr. Vincent."
He pointed toward the chair.
"Mine."
Gabriel laughed.
"Yes, Dad."
He rested a hand on his father's shoulder.
"And nobody's moving it again."
Vincent began crying.
Daniel embraced him.
And for a moment, the three Romano men stood together beside the same table where the family's darkest secrets had begun unraveling.
Mrs. Ellis quietly wiped her eyes.
I pretended not to notice because mine were wet too.
Lunch was simple.
Roast chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
Warm bread.
And homemade chicken soup.
When Mrs. Ellis mentioned the soup, Gabriel looked at me.
We exchanged a small smile.
A bowl of soup had started everything.
Now another bowl sat in front of Vincent, warm and carefully placed within easy reach.
Daniel sat on his father's other side.
He watched Vincent take his first spoonful.
"Good?" Daniel asked.
Vincent nodded.
"Very."
Daniel grinned.
"That's the best review I've heard all week."
Everyone laughed.
For the first time, the dining room sounded like a family gathering rather than a business event.
No one discussed investments.
No one worried about appearances.
No one spoke over Vincent when he struggled to find a word.
We waited.
And eventually, he said what he wanted to say.
Halfway through lunch, Daniel asked Gabriel about their childhood.
"Do you still remember the tree house?"
Gabriel laughed.
"Of course."
"You promised not to tell Dad I broke the ladder."
Gabriel raised his eyebrows.
"I didn't tell him."
Daniel smiled.
"Really?"
Gabriel pointed toward Vincent.
"He figured it out when you tried to fix it with duct tape."
Vincent started laughing.
It was such a joyful sound that everyone stopped to listen.
Daniel looked at him.
"You remember?"
Vincent nodded.
"Terrible."
Gabriel grinned.
"The repair?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Your idea."
The room erupted in laughter.
Daniel covered his face.
"Thanks, Dad."
I watched Vincent lean back in his chair.
His face was relaxed.
His eyes were bright.
And I thought about the months when he'd barely spoken.
Perhaps his voice hadn't been the only thing that had weakened.
Perhaps he'd simply become tired of speaking to people who refused to listen.
After lunch, Gabriel asked me to join him in the study.
I assumed he wanted to discuss Vincent's care.
Instead, I found James Whitmore sitting beside the fireplace.
Several documents lay on the desk.
Gabriel gestured toward a chair.
"Sit down, Claire."
I hesitated.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
He smiled slightly.
"Actually, something is finally right."
James cleared his throat.
"Miss Bennett, we've been reviewing the family's employment policies."
I frowned.
"All right."
Gabriel leaned forward.
"I want to offer you a different position."
My stomach tightened.
"What kind?"
"Vincent's personal care coordinator."
I stared.
"Mr. Romano, I'm a housemaid."
"You're also someone who understands my father's needs."
"I don't have a nursing qualification."
"And I wouldn't ask you to perform medical duties."
James nodded.
"The role would involve coordinating appointments, communicating with professional caregivers, helping Vincent maintain his routines, and ensuring his preferences are respected."
I looked at Gabriel.
He continued.
"You'd work with licensed medical professionals."
"And you'd have authority to raise concerns directly with me."
I was speechless.
James slid a document across the desk.
"The position also includes a significant salary increase, paid benefits, and support for relevant training."
I looked at the paper.
The proposed salary was more than three times what I currently earned.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then I thought about my mother.
Her medical bills.
Our cramped apartment.
The years she'd spent working herself to exhaustion.
"Mr. Romano..."
Gabriel held up a hand.
"Before you say anything, this isn't payment for helping my family."
I looked at him.
"It's recognition of the work you've already demonstrated you can do."
His expression softened.
"And you can refuse."
I stared at the document.
Nobody had ever offered me that kind of opportunity before.
But something troubled me.
"What happens to Mrs. Ellis?"
Gabriel frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"She's been running the household for years."
"I know."
"I don't want her to think I'm taking authority away from her."
Gabriel smiled.
"She suggested the role."
I blinked.
"She did?"
A familiar voice came from the doorway.
"Indeed, I did."
Mrs. Ellis stepped inside.
Her gray hair was perfectly arranged.
Her expression was stern.
But her eyes were warm.
"Claire Bennett, you've been doing half the work already."
I laughed nervously.
"Mrs. Ellis."
She walked toward me.
"And it's time someone paid you properly for it."
My eyes filled.
"Thank you."
Mrs. Ellis squeezed my shoulder.
"Don't thank me."
She nodded toward Gabriel.
"Make him approve a proper schedule."
Gabriel laughed.
"Already done."
For the next several minutes, we discussed responsibilities, working hours, and training.
I asked more questions than I expected.
Gabriel answered every one.
When the meeting ended, I accepted the position.
But before signing, I made one request.
"I still want Mr. Vincent to make his own decisions whenever he's able."
Gabriel nodded immediately.
"Agreed."
"Even if he disagrees with you."
Gabriel smiled.
"Especially then."
I signed.
James shook my hand.
Mrs. Ellis hugged me.
And Gabriel looked genuinely pleased.
But the conversation wasn't finished.
He opened another folder.
"There's something I haven't told you."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Richard's arrest has uncovered more financial records."
"About your mother's foundation?"
"Yes."
He looked toward Eleanor's portrait.
"My mother intended the foundation to help patients who couldn't afford rehabilitation."
I nodded.
"She was particularly concerned about people recovering from strokes and traumatic injuries."
He looked at me.
"I want to restore it."
"That's wonderful."
"And I'd like your mother to advise us."
I stared.
"My mother?"
"She's a nurse."
"Retired."
"Experienced."
He smiled.
"And she was one of the few people who tried to help Daniel."
I felt tears gathering again.
Gabriel continued.
"We also want Daniel involved, when he's ready."
"Does he know?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He said he wants to make sure nobody else spends eighteen years waiting for someone to believe them."
My chest tightened.
Gabriel leaned back.
"We're establishing an independent board."
"Medical professionals."
"Patient advocates."
"Financial oversight."
He paused.
"And Daniel's own voice will matter."
I looked toward the garden.
Vincent was sitting beside his younger son.
They were laughing about something.
For eighteen years, Daniel had been treated like a problem to hide.
Now his experience might help protect other people.
"Your mother would be proud," I whispered.
Gabriel looked at her portrait.
"I hope so."
That afternoon, Detective Brooks called with another update.
Richard Holloway had been formally charged with multiple financial offenses and crimes connected to Daniel's confinement and Vincent's abduction.
Investigators were also reviewing the circumstances surrounding Eleanor and Sofia's deaths.
Isabella had agreed to cooperate with the prosecution.
Gabriel listened without much expression.
When the call ended, he looked toward the window.
"Doesn't feel finished."
I understood.
Criminal charges couldn't return eighteen years.
They couldn't erase Vincent's fear.
They couldn't undo the nights Daniel had spent believing his family was dead.
But perhaps justice didn't require the past to disappear.
Perhaps it required the truth to be acknowledged.
"Maybe it isn't finished yet," I said.
Gabriel turned.
"But your family is together."
He nodded.
"And tomorrow is still yours."
For several seconds, he looked at me.
Then his expression softened.
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"When all of this settles, would you have dinner with me?"
I blinked.
"At the dining table?"
He laughed.
"Somewhere without twenty-six guests."
I felt my cheeks grow warm.
"Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Romano?"
He smiled.
"I believe I am."
I looked down.
For six months, he'd been my employer.
For years, he'd lived in a world I barely understood.
And only recently had I begun seeing the man beneath the expensive suits and intimidating reputation.
I wasn't ready to answer.
Not yet.
So I looked at him and said the one thing I knew was true.
"Gabriel, we still have a lot to figure out."
He nodded.
"I know."
Then he surprised me.
May you like
"I'm willing to take my time."
And somehow, those six words meant more than any expensive gift he could have offered.
