Chapter 17: Revelations Over Dinner
Chapter 17: Revelations Over Dinner
(Samantha’s POV)
I watched as Hector froze momentarily at my pregnancy announcement, the Seahorse Corkscrew suspended in mid–air. His dark gray eyes widened slightly–the only visible reaction to my unexpected news.
Then, with remarkable composure, he continued uncorking the bottle of Crimson Count Reserve. The cork came free with
a soft pop.
“Congratulations,” he said, his voice steady as he poured the deep crimson liquid into his glass. “This is wonderful news.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Thank you. It’s… very recent.”
Hector set the wine bottle down and reached for a crystal pitcher. “Then spring water for you,” he said, filling a matching glass with crystal–clear liquid. “The purest in the Northern Territories.”
He raised his wine glass, the ruby liquid catching the light. “To your long–awaited success.”
The words hit me unexpectedly hard. Long–awaited indeed. Years of treatments, disappointments, and failures had preceded this miracle.
I raised my water glass to meet his, fighting back the sudden burn of tears. “Thank you.”
“I imagine this is bittersweet,” Hector observed, his perception cutting straight to the heart of my emotions.
I took a sip of water to compose myself. “Yes. It should be the happiest moment of my life.”
“And yet?” he prompted gently.
“And yet everything else is falling apart.” I set my glass down carefully. “The timing is… complicated.”
Hector nodded, not pushing for details I wasn’t ready to share. “Life rarely gives us perfect circumstances.”
We ate in comfortable silence for several minutes. The food was exquisite–each bite perfectly seasoned and prepared
with obvious skill.
“This is incredible,” I said, genuinely impressed. “I had no idea you could cook like this.”
His lips quirked in that almost–smile I was beginning to recognize. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Samantha.”
After we finished the main course, Hector brought out a simple dessert of fresh berries with honey. The sweetness was exactly what I needed.
“May I ask you something?” I ventured, setting my spoon down.
Hector inclined his head. “Of course.”
“Why did you accept the role in the sequel to ‘The Minister’s Return‘?” I asked. “You don’t seem like someone who needs
fame or fortune.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features. “You’ve done your research.”
“I was curious about my co–star,” I admitted. “Though I still haven’t decided if I’m taking the role.”
Hector set his wine glass down. “Diana Grayson is my aunt.”
“The director is your aunt?” I blinked in surprise. “That explains a lot.”
Chapter 17 Revelations Over
“She’s been ill recently,” he continued, his expression softening slightly. “The project means a great deal to her.”
+15 Puntos
I could hear genuine affection in his voice when he spoke of his aunt. It was the most emotion I’d heard from him all evening.
“I didn’t realize you had family in the film industry,” I said.
“There’s much about my family that isn’t common knowledge,” he replied. “We prefer it that way.”
I thought back to our first meeting four years ago. “When we worked together on that healing mission in the Southern Territory, you never mentioned any of this.”
A hint of amusement touched his eyes. “You were quite focused on teaching me proper healing techniques.”
“Was I that bossy?” I asked, embarrassed by the memory..
“Confident,” he corrected. “You were vibrant, passionate about healing. Everyone respected your expertise.”
His words transported me back to that time. I had been different then–more assured, more alive. Before years of fertility treatments and disappointments had worn me down.
Before I’d slowly dimmed my own light to accommodate Ethan’s growing shadow.
“That feels like a lifetime ago,” I murmured.
“The essence of who you are hasn’t changed,” Hector said, his gaze steady. “It’s merely been… subdued.”
The observation was uncomfortably accurate.
I glanced at my watch, surprised by how late it had grown. “I should be getting back.”
“Of course.” Hector stood smoothly. “I’ll have William drive you.”
“That’s not necessary,” I protested. “I can call a car service.”
Hector’s expression became firm. “I’m not letting a pregnant woman travel alone at this hour.”
The protective tone in his voice was oddly comforting. He pulled out his phone and sent a brief text.
“William will bring the car around in five minutes,” he said, returning the phone to his pocket.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said sincerely. “And for listening.”
“You’re welcome anytime, Samantha.” His dark eyes held mine. “And please, treat me as you did before–when we worked as equals.”
I smiled at the memory. “You mean when I corrected your bandaging technique three times in one day?”
“Four times,” he corrected, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “And you were right each time.”
(Hector’s POV)
We stood in the foyer waiting for William to arrive with the car. Samantha looked more relaxed than when she’d arrived, though exhaustion still shadowed her eyes.
“May I ask you something personal?” she inquired suddenly.
I nodded, curious about what she wanted to know.
“Are you seeing anyone?” The question was direct, her gaze steady as she waited for my answer.
“No,” I replied simply. “I’m not attached.”
The admission hung between us, charged with unspoken possibilities.
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“This is a beautiful home,” she observed, glancing around. “But it must get lonely sometimes.”
I considered her words carefully. “It used to.”
“Used to?” she echoed.
“It doesn’t feel lonely tonight,” I said, my eyes holding hers a moment longer than necessary.
+15 Puntos
ights swept across the driveway, announcing William’s arrival. I opened the front door as the car came to a stop.
carriage awaits,” I said, gesturing toward the sleek black vehicle.
Samantha smiled–a genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Hector.”
“The pleasure was mine,” I replied truthfully.
I watched as William opened the car door for her. She slid gracefully into the backseat, her golden hair catching the
moonlight.
As the car disappeared down the driveway, I returned to the dining room. The table still held evidence of our meal–two
plates, two glasses, the bottle of Crimson Count Reserve.
I noted that Samantha had barely touched her food, despite her compliments on the cooking. Pregnancy often affected
appetite, I knew.
I picked up her water glass, still half–full, and finished the remaining liquid. An oddly intimate gesture, I realized too late.
After clearing the table, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. Opening the door, I was immediately enveloped by the
lingering scent of her perfume filling the air.
I stood motionless for a moment, absorbing the reality that Samantha Reed–the pregnant, estranged Luna of the
Northern Territory–had slept in my bed just hours ago.
The political implications were explosive. The personal implications, perhaps more so.
I moved to open a window, then paused, my hand on the latch. After a moment’s hesitation, I turned away, leaving the
window closed and her scent undisturbed in the room.
