Chapter 4 - The Shadows of the Past
By evening, a uneasy quiet settled over the Greenwich estate.
After Eleanor’s dramatic departure, Gabriel had spent two hours in the garden with the boys, teaching Liam how to properly throw a baseball while Ethan chased butterflies and Noah sat on a bench, proudly showing Gabriel his collection of smooth rocks.
Claire watched from the kitchen window, sipping tea. She couldn't deny the warmth blossoming in her chest as she watched Gabriel interact with them. He was patient. He didn't check his phone once. He listened to Noah's rambling stories about rocks with the same intense focus he used when analyzing hundred-million-dollar shipping contracts.
"He's trying, my dear," Mrs. Gable said softly, standing beside Claire as she dried a glass.
"Trying doesn't undo five years of absence, Mrs. Gable," Claire replied quietly.
"No, it doesn't," the old housekeeper agreed. "But I've lived in this house for twenty years, Claire. I saw him after you left five years ago. He turned into a ghost. He stopped smiling, he stopped eating, he buried himself in work and violence because he couldn't stand the quiet in this house without you."
Claire looked down at her tea. "He had Serena."
"Serena was a bandage on a gunshot wound, child," Mrs. Gable said firmly. "He never loved her. Everyone in this house knew it. He was just punishing himself."
Before Claire could digest Mrs. Gable's words, the sudden sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Marco stepped into the kitchen, his face grim.
"Mrs. Cross... excuse me, Miss Bennett," Marco said quickly. "Mr. Cross needs you in the security center downstairs immediately."
Claire set her tea cup down, a sudden wave of dread washing over her. "What happened?"
"We found the mole," Marco said grimly.
The basement security center was a high-tech nerve hub, filled with glowing monitors displaying live camera feeds of the estate, encrypted server banks, and communications equipment.
Gabriel was standing in front of a primary bank of monitors, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The warmth he had shown in the garden an hour ago was entirely gone. In its place stood the cold, terrifying don of the Cross syndicate.
When Claire stepped inside, she saw a young man in a wrinkled business suit tied to a steel chair in the center of the room. His lip was bleeding, his eyes wild with terror.
Claire recognized him instantly.
"Julian?" Claire gasped.
Julian Vance was the twenty-six-year-old nephew of Serena Vale. Gabriel had given him a junior accountant position at Cross Freight three years ago as a favor to Serena.
"Claire! Please!" Julian sobbed, his voice cracking with panic. "Tell him to let me go! I didn't mean to! I didn't know they were going to hurt anyone!"
Gabriel didn't move a muscle. His gray-green eyes were fixed on the trembling young man.
"Explain it to her, Julian," Gabriel said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "Tell Claire how much money Victor Moretti paid you to leak her address in upstate New York."
Julian wept openly, shaking uncontrollably. "Fifty thousand dollars! I had gambling debts, Claire! Serena wouldn't lend me any more money! Moretti’s men came to me three weeks ago... they said they just wanted to monitor Gabriel's ex-wife to see if he was visiting her! I swear to God, I didn't know they were sending hitmen!"
Claire stared at the young man, a sick disgust rising in her throat. "You traded my children's lives for fifty thousand dollars?"
"I didn't know about the kids! I swear!" Julian shrieked.
Gabriel walked slowly toward Julian. The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Serena gave you access to my private databases," Gabriel said softly, leaning down until his face was inches from Julian's. "Did she know about the leak?"
"No! No, Serena didn't know!" Julian cried out. "She just wanted me to find dirt on Claire so she could force you to set a wedding date! She thought if we found out Claire was living happily with another man, you'd finally move on!"
Gabriel straightened up, taking a heavy breath. He looked over at Marco.
"Take him to the warehouse in Jersey," Gabriel ordered flatly. "Hand him over to the federal authorities along with the paper trail of Moretti's wire transfers. Let the feds deal with his treason."
"No! Please! Not the feds!" Julian begged as two heavy bodyguards untied him and dragged him out of the room, his screams fading down the corridor.
Once the room was quiet again, Gabriel turned to face Claire.
"Serena didn't order the hit," Gabriel said, his voice flat. "But her ambition and her family opened the door for Moretti to target you."
Claire walked up to Gabriel, stopping a foot away. "What are you going to do now, Gabriel?"
Gabriel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a heavy, dark metallic object—a custom 9mm handgun. He checked the magazine with practiced, terrifying efficiency before sliding it into his shoulder holster.
"Moretti knows his mole is compromised," Gabriel said, his eyes burning with lethal intent. "He knows I have the boys here. He knows he has only one move left—to strike before I mobilize the full force of my syndicate against him."
"Gabriel, no," Claire whispered, fear seizing her heart. "Don't go out there. Let the police—"
"The police cannot handle Victor Moretti, Claire," Gabriel interrupted sharply. "He operates in the dark. The only way to protect you and our sons permanently is to cut the head off the snake tonight."
He stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently touch her jawline. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his touch surprisingly soft for a man about to go to war.
"I spent five years living in the dark, Claire," Gabriel whispered, his voice laced with a profound, aching intimacy. "I thought I lost everything the day you walked out that door. I won't lose you again. I won't let him take the life we were supposed to have."
Claire looked into his eyes, seeing the man she had loved, the man who had broken her heart, and the father who was willing to walk through hell to protect his children.
Without thinking, Claire reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, holding his hand against her face.
"You come back to us, Gabriel," Claire said, her voice trembling with emotion she couldn't hide. "Do you hear me? You don't get to meet your sons and then die in some mob war. You come back."
Gabriel stared at her, a fierce, blazing light igniting in his eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead in a long, lingering kiss that sent shivers straight to Claire's soul.
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"I will always come back to you, Claire," Gabriel promised quietly.
He turned on his heel and strode out of the security room, his black coat billowing behind him as Marco and six heavily armed men fell into step behind their don.
