Chapter 10 - The Encounter at the Harbor
Elena’s first instinct was to grab Leo, abandon the café, and take the first train out of Marseille toward the Italian border. Her go-bag was always packed, waiting in the hallway of their small apartment upstairs. But as she watched Julian walk along the promenade, her feet refused to move.
He looked like a ghost of the man she had married. His broad shoulders were slumped, his face lined with deep, permanent grief that no wealth could erase. As Vivian spoke to him, gesturing aggressively toward a waterfront real estate development, Julian didn't even look at her; his stare was fixed emptily on the horizon. He really believed she and the baby had died in that river five years ago.
"Mama, you're squeezing my hand too tight," Leo whispered, pulling back slightly.
"I’m sorry, my love," Elena said, her voice trembling slightly as she knelt to his eye level. She needed to get him upstairs immediately. "Listen to me, Leo. I need you to go up to Madame Dupont’s apartment right now and play with her cat until I come get you. Understand?"
Before Leo could answer, the bell above the café door jingled cheerfully. Elena froze, her blood turning to ice.
A tall man in a tailored gray suit stepped into the shade of the patio. It wasn't Julian, and it wasn't Vivian. It was a man with sharp, observant eyes who looked around the small establishment before locking his gaze directly onto Elena. He was one of Pinnacle’s executive scouts—men hired to secure VIP locations before the family arrived.
"Excuse me," the scout said in crisp, American English, stepping toward the counter. "My employers would like to reserve this entire terrace for a private lunch over the next two hours. We are prepared to compensate you triple your usual afternoon revenue."
Elena lowered her head slightly, letting her auburn hair fall forward to obscure her profile as she adopted a thick, practiced French accent. "I am sorry, Monsieur. We are closing early today for private family business. You will have to find another establishment."
The scout frowned, reaching into his pocket to produce a thick clip of Euros. "I don't think you understand, Madame. Mr. and Miss Vance do not take no for an answer."
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"Then they will learn a new lesson today," a deep, familiar voice rumbled from the doorway.
Elena looked up to see Marcus stepping onto the patio, his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the scout's path. He looked older, a scar running down his cheek, but his presence was as immovable as a mountain.
