Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 31

Thirty-One

Talia

T he burned husk of Hope House looms over me like a corpse still strung up by a noose.

The acrid smell of smoke still lingers in the air. I peek through the window at the charred remains of what was once a warm, loving home for children in need. Now there is only devastation here. Collapsed walls, piles of ash where there were once beds and toys, floors made unstable by the roaring fire that swept through the entire house.

How is it that this place, once so sacred to me, is now just an incinerated ruin?

Something drips on my dress. I look up and there is nothing but blue sky above me. Then I touch my face with two gentle fingertips. When I pull my hand away, my fingertips glisten.

I'm crying over this house. Over what it meant to me. How could such a sacred place just simply burn to the ground?

Exhaling a deep breath, I wipe my face and move away from the burned husk of the building.

When I round a corner, I see my husband heading my way. He has a very determined look on his face, as if he has decided something. I slow my steps, take a deep breath, and use my hands to take some of the weight of my burgeoning stomach off my back.

"Talia," Dare says, striding towards me, "I have a plan."

I eye him warily. "What kind of plan?"

"I'm going to move the kids to a hotel for now."

I narrow my eyes. "Which hotel?"

"The Windsor. The manager there loves me, or at least he loves my repeat business. So I assume he will let us rent all the rooms that they have available."

I shake my head, anxiety rising. "Dare, that's far too expensive. Why don't we try a budget hotel?"

"Nonsense." His tone brokers no argument. "The children need stability and care right now. I've already called a nanny agency and a social worker. This is happening, Talia. I won't take no for an answer."

Seeing the stubborn set of his shoulders, I know not to fight him on this. Dare Morgan is a man accustomed to getting his way. With a cautious sigh, I nod.

Dare makes a call to Aunt Minnie, who is with the children at the hospital. I can't hear her end of the conversation, but she quickly agrees to round the Hope House children up and deliver them to the hotel.

After a short drive, we pull up to the imposing edifice of the Windsor Hotel. The grand lobby of the Windsor Hotel is a world away from the cramped dormitories at Hope House. Crystal chandeliers drip from ornate ceilings, illuminating marble floors that stretch on for acres. As we enter with the children in tow, the opulence is overwhelming.

The staff eyes our ragged group with unveiled disdain. A bellhop's nose wrinkles at a child's runny nose. The front desk clerk grimaces as a toddler's shriek echoes off the cavernous walls. Their judgmental glares follow us as we shuffle to the check-in counter.

As Dare strides to the front desk, the concierge's eyes widen in alarm at the sight of the bandaged children trailing uncertainly behind us. Aunt Minnie is right behind them, telling them to make themselves comfortable wherever they want.

"You can have some if you want," I hear her telling a child who is licking his lips at the sight of a table piled high with cookies and other baked treats.

"Solana," I call out. Solana sees me, grins widely, and runs to hug my legs. I feather her hair with my fingers. "Hey there."

"You came!" She squeezes me so hard that I flinch.

"Be gentle," I caution her. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

She looks at me worshipfully. "Ms. Minnie says I am a great healer."

I can't do anything but smile at her and touch her nose playfully with a fingertip.

"Let's go see what Dare is up to," I suggest.

"Yeah!" Solana takes off, running full tilt at Dare. She flings her arms around his legs just as he stops before the hotel's check in counter. He grins and kneels down, exchanging a few words with Solana. Then he stands up again, ruffles her hair, and looks expectantly at the young woman behind the counter.

Dare slaps his black Amex on the counter. "I'll be renting out the entire penthouse floor. And before you say anything, know that I am comfortable demanding that I rent the whole hotel."

I watch the exchange with a mix of admiration and confusion. Dare is so confident, so assured of himself. He knows what he wants, and he'll stop at nothing to get it.

The receptionist's eyes widen at Dare's audacious statement, but she quickly regains her composure and starts punching in some keys on her computer. "Of course, Mr. Morgan. Your assistant called and said you would be arriving with some... guests. We have the Windsor Suite available for your use and all the rooms on that floor are ready as well."

"Sounds great. Do me a favor and send up that French chef of yours. The kids are going to need to be fed pretty soon."

I stifle a smile at Dare's arrogance. It's one thing to be rich, but it's another to flaunt it like he does. The woman at the counter nods nervously and hands him a set of keys.

"See that the children are treated like royalty during their stay. These are all my valued guests." His voice rings with absolute authority.

The concierge swallows hard and nods, not daring to refuse.

The doors open to our floor and a maid immediately recoils at the sight of us. Her nostrils flare in disgust at the group of grubby orphan children flooding the pristine hallway.

I put a protective hand on Solana's shoulder as she shrinks back, stung by the rejection.

Dare steps forward, eyes blazing. "This young lady will be staying in the presidential suite," he informs the maid coolly. "Please see that it's prepared for her immediately."

The maid blinks in shock but doesn't dare disobey. With a reluctant dip of her head, she bustles off to ready the room. Solana looks up at Dare with awe.

One by one, Dare assigns the children to lavish accommodations, his manner leaving no room for debate. The staff hurries to comply, though their displeasure is palpable.

I follow the children around the penthouse floor, marveling at the lavish furnishings and sweeping views of the city. This is a world away from the cramped dormitories at Hope House.

Dare is on the phone organizing an army of nannies, tutors, and counselors to care for the children. His confidence and take-charge attitude are reassuring, but I still have logistical concerns.

"Dare," I say gently, "this is incredibly generous, but how long do you plan on keeping up something this extravagant? It will cost a small fortune."

He ends his call and turns to me, his gaze intense. "Money is no object. All that matters is creating stability after the trauma they've endured."

I look down, touched by his dedication but anxious about the burden he's taking on. "I thought you were cut off?"

Dare tilts his head. "Not from my personal accounts."

My brows rise. Personal accounts?

I shake my head, realizing that I may never understand how rich people think.

"It's just...this is a massive undertaking. Are you sure you can get the staff to handle it? And what about long-term plans for the children?"

Dare steps closer, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. "Talia, please trust me. I will do whatever it takes, for however long, to make sure these children thrive. You have my word."

His solemn promise sends a shiver down my spine. I know at this moment that Dare would move heaven and earth for those in need. And I realize, with dawning wonder, that I would do the same for him.

The children burst into their rooms, marveling at the plush king-sized beds, massive flat screen TVs, and decadent marble bathrooms.

"This is amazing!" shouts Miguel, jumping up and down on the bed. Little Rosie's eyes widen as she takes in the ornate furnishings, so different from the sparse dormitories at Hope House.

I follow Solana into the presidential suite, where she immediately heads for the bowl of chocolate truffles left on the nightstand.

"Just one for now," I say gently, guiding her over to the walk-in closet. Her small shoulders slump in disappointment.

A knock at the door reveals a trio of smiling young women. "We're the nannies Mr. Morgan hired," explains the one in front. "We're here to help the children get settled." Behind them is a middle-aged man in a suit. "And I'm the social worker assigned to oversee their care."

I sigh in relief. With their expertise, we can create some semblance of normalcy for the kids.

As I show them around, the nannies coo over Solana. "We'll have lots of fun together," promises one, her voice warm and reassuring.

Solana gives a small smile.

Out in the hallway, the butler Clive supervises as bellhops lug up bags of toys and art supplies. He nods approvingly as they begin transforming the cold, formal space into an area bursting with color and laughter.

Solana tugs excitedly on my hand, pulling me towards the hallway. "Come see, come see!" she urges.

I let her lead me to the elevators, where a group of kids waits impatiently. With a ding, the doors slide open, and they rush in, jostling playfully.

On the ground floor, Solana makes a beeline for the shimmering pool. She lets out a squeal, kicking off her shoes and plunging her feet into the cool water. Nearby, Clive watches indulgently as other children cannonball in, clothes and all.

Waiters in crisp white uniforms deliver heaping sundaes to poolside tables. Solana's eyes go wide at the towering mounds of ice cream, drizzled in chocolate and caramel.

"For me?" she asks in disbelief when a waiter sets one down. He winks. "On Mr. Morgan's orders."

Tears prick my eyes as I watch Solana devour the treat. The child who just yesterday had nothing now knows only joy and plenty, thanks to Dare.

As if reading my thoughts, he appears at my side. "How are they settling in?" His eyes scan the scene, his mouth curving into a satisfied smile at the sounds of delight.

"I can't thank you enough for this," I tell him earnestly. "They've lost so much, but you've given them back laughter and hope."

He shakes his head dismissively. "It's only money." But I know it's more - his immense privilege wielded to shelter the vulnerable. In that moment, I feel deeply grateful for his kindness and generosity.

I nod slowly, taking in the opulence surrounding us. The soaring marble columns, the plush velvet furniture, the grand piano in the lobby - this is a world unfamiliar to most.

Yet Dare navigates it with ease, commanding resources and loyalty through sheer wealth and influence. He turned this bastion of privilege into a sanctuary for lost children with one flash of his black Amex.

Watching Solana eat her ice cream as if she’s a girl without a care in the whole wide world, I'm reminded how innocence persists, even amidst tragedy. The fire stripped the children of home and stability, but it could not touch their resilient spirits.

In the shadows of the lobby, I spot Magda directing staff to set up arts and crafts. She catches my eye and winks reassuringly. I know she'll watch over the children as if they were her own.

Turning back to Dare, I squeeze his hand in gratitude. "Thank you."

He looks at me, eyes glinting. "Don't thank me. I'm just doing what anyone would do."

I snort. "Anyone with a huge heart and a big fat trust fund."

Dare shrugs, dropping a kiss to the crown of my head.

"Maybe so."

I wrap my arms around him, unable to believe that he's the same man I found eight months ago at that garden party.