Chapter 2 - The Royal Suite"Dominic," I said into my phone, my voice like crushed glass. "I need my private car at the Fifth Avenue entrance of Central Park in three minutes. And clear the top two floors of the Plaza Hotel. I want the Royal Suite fully staffed, heated, and stocked with pediatric supplies, milk, warm food, and women’s clothing."
"Mr. Brooks?" my Chief of Security sounded stunned. "Sir, you have the board meeting for the Manhattan Tower project in twenty minutes..."
"Cancel it," I commanded. "Cancel every meeting for the next month. If anyone on the board complains, tell them they can sell their shares back to me. Do it now."
I hung up and knelt before Caroline. The wind was picking up, threatening to bring a winter storm over the city.
"Caroline," I said gently, offering my bare hand to her. "Please. Look at me."
She looked down at my hand. My custom-tailored suit was ruined with park mud, my hair was unkempt, and tears were streaming down my face. I was no longer "the king of concrete." I was just Nathan—the man who had failed her five years ago.
"I know I don't deserve your trust," I murmured, my voice trembling. "I know I am the villain in your story. But look at their little faces, Caroline. They are freezing. Let me take you somewhere safe. You don't ever have to speak to me again if you don't want to, but please... let me protect my children today."
Caroline looked down at the three tiny bundles in her arms. The little girl was shivering despite the fleece blanket, her small lips pale. Caroline’s protective motherly instincts fought against her deep-seated hatred for my name, but the bitter cold won.
"Just the hotel," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. "No doctors from your family. No lawyers. Just a warm room."
"I swear it," I said.
I stood up and carefully scooped up two of the babies—the little girl and one of the boys—into my arms. The moment their small, warm weight rested against my chest, a sensation unlike anything I had ever known surged through my body. The boy nestled his small face into the crook of my neck, his tiny hand clutching my lapel.
My children.
I turned to look at my mother, who was standing frozen on the walkway, clutching her purse, tears running down her pristine makeup.
"Nathan, please," Margaret sobbed, stepping forward. "Let me come with you. Let me explain—"
"If you take one step toward my children," I said, my voice dropping into an icy, lethal register that made even the park guards pause, "I will have security arrest you for trespassing. Go back to your penthouse, Margaret. Pack your things. Because by tomorrow morning, you will no longer hold a position at Brooks Development, and you will no longer have a home in my buildings."
"Nathan! I am your mother!" she shrieked.
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"You ceased being my mother the day you left my children to freeze in the dirt," I replied coldly.
Without another word, I turned my back on her, carrying my son and daughter toward the waiting black SUV, with Caroline holding our second son close behind me.
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