Chapter 1 - The Empty Chair at the Head of the Table
Maggie Rinaldi had almost reached the harmless end of the table when her husband's voice stopped her.
“You're sitting beside me tonight.”
Every conversation in the dining room seemed to die at once. Maggie turned, one hand still resting on the back of her usual chair, looking first at Sebastian and then instinctively behind herself where no one stood. Sebastian Rinaldi sat at the head of the long walnut table beneath the glittering chandelier, silver touching his temples at fifty-two, one hand resting beside an untouched glass of bourbon. Twelve people had been talking around him seconds earlier, but now they waited in complete silence.
“Me?” Maggie asked, her voice quiet behind her round glasses.
A faint movement touched Sebastian's mouth, not quite a smile. “You are my wife. That hasn't changed since breakfast.”
Theo coughed into his fist nearby, and Sebastian's eyes warmed for half a second before he said, “No, it hasn't.”
Then he stood, changing the room more than his words had because men who controlled themselves as completely as Sebastian seldom needed volume. He walked around the table and pulled out the chair immediately to his right, causing Maggie to stop breathing entirely as she recognized that chair. Everyone in the room knew it, because it had remained empty at every formal Rinaldi dinner during the seven months of their marriage.
Tonight, Selena Veseri had been standing beside it with her hand still poised over the carved back while Malcolm Veseri slowly set down his wineglass. “Sebastian,” Malcolm said, “I believe Selena was placed there because we have business to discuss.”
“We do,” Sebastian replied evenly.
“Then surely—”
“My wife is sitting beside me.”
There was no anger and no threat, yet somehow that made it entirely final as heat rose beneath the collar of Maggie's dark green dress. Ten minutes earlier, Selena had smiled at Maggie's glasses and suggested she might look less academic without them, to which Maggie had replied that she was an archivist and looking academic saved time. Sebastian had heard that, but apparently, he had heard much more than she realized.
Maggie approached him slowly. “You could have warned me.”
“I could have,” he admitted.
“You enjoy making rooms uncomfortable.”
“Only when the room deserves it.”
His fingers remained on the chair, waiting rather than ordering, and Maggie understood the distinction clearly. For seven months, Sebastian had been unfailingly considerate behind closed doors with appearing cars in the rain and tea beside her books, yet distant whenever his world gathered. Maggie had told herself she preferred it, but sometimes dignity required recognizing the lies one told oneself before she finally sat down and Sebastian pushed her chair in.
Selena moved away first, and dinner resumed in a strained atmosphere while servers placed braised beef and winter vegetables before them. Malcolm began discussing the Lake Street redevelopment, directing every sentence toward Sebastian until he mentioned a deed transfer from 1978. Maggie's fork stopped mid-air, and Sebastian noticed instantly.
“The municipal record confirms uninterrupted ownership from 1978 onward,” Malcolm continued smoothly.
“Which record?” Maggie asked aloud, causing Malcolm to look at her as though the furniture had spoken.
His attorney answered for him with a tight smile. “The Hallstead Municipal Archive.”
Maggie adjusted her glasses. “That building's property collection wasn't cataloged under the Hallstead system until 1981.”
Silence returned to the table instantly. The attorney's smile tightened further as he said, “I'm sure you're mistaken.”
“I restore those records,” Maggie replied calmly.
Under the table, Sebastian's hand settled beside hers without touching her, simply leaving it there as a silent anchor. Maggie looked at him and asked, “Are you certain?”
She could retreat, but instead, she placed her fingertips against his. “Yes.”
Across the table, Malcolm's expression changed only slightly, and Sebastian saw it immediately. Later, when the guests began moving toward the drawing room, Malcolm caught Sebastian near the doors and murmured, “You've made your point. Now move her back where she belongs before this arrangement becomes expensive.”
Sebastian glanced across the room to where Maggie was helping an elderly guest recover a dropped pillbox, completely unaware of their conversation. When he looked back at Malcolm, his face remained entirely calm. “She is where she belongs.”
May you like
Malcolm's jaw hardened into a rigid line. “Then tomorrow morning, you may discover exactly what that chair costs.”
For the first time that evening, Sebastian looked toward his wife not with possession but with deep concern, realizing the seat beside him had just become dangerous.
