Chapter 71: Dinner invitation

"Make sure the security detail is invisible. I don't want her walking through a series of security guards just to get to the dining room. I want her to feel like she’s entering a home, not a compound."

Julian watched her walk out, her steps still confident but her shoulders were less tense than they had been in weeks. He looked down at the report on Isabel Evans, the girl from the other side who had managed to do what no corporate rival ever could.

She had made the Empress look back.

"Roasted chicken it is," Julian whispered to the empty room.

++++++++++

The cool breeze of the West Village felt different to Alexander tonight. He found Isabella where he knew she’d be sitting on the edge of a weathered pier, her boots dangling over the dark, moving water of the Hudson.

She didn't turn when he came closer. The orange glow of the distant City lights reflected on the side of her face, highlighting the tension in her jaw.

"I told her," Alex said, his voice barely rising above the sound of the water hitting against the wood.

Isabella finally looked at him, her eyes guarded. "And? Did she have her security guards ready to prepare a black site for me? Or did she just laugh?"

"She apologized," Alex said, sitting down beside her. He ignored the wetness of the pier on his expensive trousers. "She had her best people dig. They found everything you told me. The payroll records, the Dayton files. She knows you were telling the truth, Isabel. She knows you’re the one Seraphina had been victimising."

Isabella let out a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping an inch. "I didn't think she’d believe me. I thought a Vance only believed in things they could buy or sell."

"Elara is... complicated," Alex admitted, reaching out to take her hand. This time, she didn't pull away. "She’s spent so long being the Empress that she forgot how to be a sister. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, I heard my sister’s voice. Not the CEO’s. Not the empress’s."

He squeezed her hand gently. "She wants to meet you. Properly."

Isabella went stiff "Meet me? Like... in a boardroom? Under a spotlight?"

"No," Alex said, a small smile coming on his lips. "She wants to host a family dinner. Tuesday night. At the Vance estate. She wants to apologize to you face to face."

Isabella pulled her hand out of Alex's hands, her eyes wide and filled with a sudden, sharp panic. "A family dinner? Alex, look at me. I work in the docks. I have grease under my fingernails half the time and my best dress is something I bought at a thrift store in Brooklyn. I can't sit at a Vance table. I wouldn't even know which fork to use to keep from looking stupid.

"Isabel, listen to me," Alex said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate voice. "I told her exactly that. I told her you were a jeans and boots girl. And do you know what she said? She said you could come in a diving suit for all she cared. She’s taking the empress mask off. It’s just going to be us. No board members, no business talk, no security guards breathing down our necks."

"You’re serious," Isabella whispered, looking at his face for any sign of a joke. "She really wants me there?"

"She needs to see the person who made me grow a backbone," Alex teased gently. "But more than that, she wants to show you that a Vance can be a person, not just a brand. She’s calling a truce, Isabel. For us."

Isabella looked back at the water. The idea of the Vance estate, the legendary fortress of old money and high power felt like another world. "Your sister is the most dangerous woman in Hudson, Alex. Everyone knows that. If I go there, and I say the wrong thing, or if I look at her the wrong way..."

"Then I’ll take you to get tacos," Alex interrupted. "That’s the contingency plan. If it gets too vance, we walk out. I’m not leaving your side for a second. I promise."

Isabella was silent for a long time. The weight of her secret the thing she had handed over still felt heavy in the air between them. She knew that by stepping into the Vance estate, she was crossing a line she could never uncross. She was no longer just an observer, she was a participant in a war that had been going since before she arrived in the city.

"What about Seraphina?" Isabella asked. "If she finds out I’m sitting at Elara Vance’s table, she’ll lose her mind. She’ll think I’ve been a spy from the beginning."

"Let her think it," Alex said firmly. "Seraphina doesn't own you anymore. That drive gave us a hold on her, Isabel. We aren't going to use it to send her to jail, Elara promised me that but we are going to use it to make sure she never touches you again. This dinner is the first step toward you having a life that belongs to you."

Isabella looked at him, and for the first time, the fear in her eyes was replaced by a little uncertain hope. "You really think she’ll be okay with me? Just... me?"

"I think she’ll be lucky to meet you," Alex said, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Back at the Vance Tower, Elara was already making the arrangements for the dinner. She sat at her desk, but for once, the monitors were offed. She was looking at a digital floor plan of the estate’s dining room, mentally removing the heavy, formal chairs and replacing them with something more comfortable.

Julian came to the door, his tablet in hand. "The chef has the menu. Roasted chicken, root vegetables, apple tart. Simple. Approachable. Though he did ask if he could at least use organic heritage chickens."

"Tell him he can do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't require a steak knife the size of a sword," Elara said without looking up.

"Alex called," Julian added. "She’s coming. Tuesday at seven."

Elara finally looked up, her expression a mix of relief and a lingering, professional anxiety. "Good. And Julian? The surveillance on the West Village... keep it tight, but invisible. If Seraphina so much as sneezes in Isabella’s direction before that dinner, I want to know about it."

"Already on it, Empress," Julian said, turning to leave.

"Make sure there are no roses in the house on Tuesday," Elara said, a flicker of a memory passing through her eyes.

"Seraphina used smell like them. I want the air to smell like something else. Something new."

"Julian?"

He paused. "Yes?"

“Thank you” Elara said looking at him.

“For what, exactly” Julian replied turning to look back at her.

“For being her for me during my ups and down, and for doing things we both know you have no business doing.”

“You know I would do anything for you, even as low as being on kitchen duty for you.” Julian said leaving the room.