Chapter 2 - THE NAME SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO KNOW
"Serena, I'm going to ask you one question. And you'd better think carefully before you answer."
Gabriel Cross stood beneath the glittering chandelier, his gray-green eyes fixed on the woman who had shared his home for five years.
"Did you know Claire had children?"
Serena's expression barely changed.
"Gabriel, please. You're making a spectacle of yourself."
"Answer me."
Around us, two hundred wealthy guests were beginning to panic.
A woman in a silver evening gown was crying beside the champagne fountain. Several businessmen were arguing with Gabriel's security guards.
Someone was already recording us.
But Gabriel seemed to have forgotten they existed.
I hadn't.
"Open the doors," I demanded.
He turned toward me.
"Claire—"
"Look at my sons."
Leo was holding Julian's hand so tightly their knuckles had turned white.
Mateo had buried his face against my hip.
"They're five years old, Gabriel. They're scared. Whatever you think you're doing, stop."
For a moment, the man who had once terrified an entire city looked completely lost.
Then he raised his hand.
"Open every exit. Nobody gets questioned or detained. Anyone who wants to leave can leave."
His head of security, Noah Ellis, hesitated.
"Boss, the situation—"
"Now, Noah."
The locks clicked.
Within seconds, the ballroom doors opened.
Gabriel looked toward the frightened guests.
"I apologize for what happened here. You are free to go."
It wasn't enough to erase what he'd done.
But it was the first time I had ever heard Gabriel Cross apologize in front of strangers.
Serena moved closer to him.
"Darling, we need to leave before this becomes a scandal."
Gabriel stepped away from her.
"Not yet."
My heart was beating so hard I could barely breathe.
Five years ago, I would have given anything for Gabriel to look at me the way he was looking at our children.
Now all I wanted was to take them home.
A woman in her sixties approached us.
"Claire?"
I recognized Miriam Kessler, the executive director of the Hudson Children's Foundation.
She had invited me to the gala because of my work with struggling families at a community medical clinic.
"I have a quiet family lounge upstairs," she whispered. "No cameras. No reporters."
I looked down at my boys.
"Would you like some juice?"
Mateo lifted his head.
"Apple?"
Miriam smiled.
"Apple it is."
Gabriel watched their small faces.
"May I come with you?"
I almost said no.
Then Leo looked up at him.
"Are you going to lock us in, too?"
The question struck Gabriel harder than any threat I'd ever heard directed at him.
He crouched.
"No, buddy. I'm sorry I frightened you."
Leo considered that answer.
"Mommy says grown-ups should say sorry when they do something wrong."
"Your mommy is right."
We followed Miriam into a private lounge.
Serena came with us, despite my objections.
Gabriel refused to let her leave until he'd received an explanation.
Once the doors closed, I sat my sons on a comfortable sofa and handed them the coloring books Miriam found in a cabinet.
Gabriel remained standing.
He kept glancing toward the boys as if he were afraid they would disappear.
"Tell me about them," he said quietly.
I stiffened.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
Something about that single word nearly broke me.
Because there had been so much.
Their first steps.
Their first birthdays.
The Christmas morning when Julian cried because he thought Santa had forgotten the birds outside our apartment.
The night Mateo couldn't breathe and I sat beside his hospital bed, praying for another morning.
All the ordinary moments Gabriel had missed.
And all the frightening ones I had faced alone.
"You don't get everything in one evening," I told him.
His expression tightened.
"You're right."
Serena folded her arms.
"Gabriel, you cannot seriously believe they're yours without proof."
"Look at them."
"Children resemble people all the time!"
He turned toward her.
"All three have the scar above their left eyebrow."
I blinked.
Gabriel touched his own eyebrow.
A small pale line crossed the skin near his temple.
"My grandfather had it. So did my father."
The boys had inherited the same faint birthmark.
I'd noticed it when they were babies.
But I'd never known it ran through the Cross family.
Serena suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"That proves nothing."
"No," Gabriel said. "But it means I'm going to listen to Claire."
I reached into my purse and removed a small, worn envelope.
Inside was the first ultrasound photograph showing three tiny heartbeats.
The edges were bent from years of handling.
"Two weeks after our divorce, I found out I was pregnant."
Gabriel stared at the photograph.
"I remember that day," I continued. "You were photographed leaving a hotel with Serena. The newspapers called her your future wife."
He swallowed.
"I never married her."
"You didn't have to."
His eyes fell.
"I tried to reach you," I said. "I wrote letters. I contacted your office. I even went to the house."
Gabriel looked up sharply.
"You came to the house?"
"Twice."
"When?"
"During my pregnancy. The second time, I was nearly seven months along."
He turned toward Serena.
"Who was handling visitors while I was away?"
Serena gave a dismissive laugh.
"Your security department. You know that."
"I asked who made the decisions."
"Your brother Nicholas handled the household then. Why are you looking at me?"
Gabriel said nothing.
And somehow, that silence was worse than shouting.
Then Mateo began coughing.
It was a small, familiar cough, the kind he sometimes developed when a room was dusty.
I reached for the water bottle in my bag.
Serena spoke before I could move.
"He's fine, Claire. Mateo doesn't need his inhaler for every little cough."
My fingers stopped.
Gabriel slowly turned his head.
"What did you say?"
Serena blinked.
"Nothing."
I stood.
"How do you know his name?"
She looked from me to Gabriel.
"Oh, please. Someone must have mentioned it downstairs."
"No," I said. "I haven't introduced any of my children to you."
"Claire, don't be ridiculous."
"How do you know Mateo sometimes uses an inhaler?"
For the first time that evening, Serena had no immediate answer.
Gabriel moved closer.
"Serena."
Her eyes flashed.
"I run charitable programs involving children. Maybe Claire submitted information to the foundation!"
Miriam, who had been quietly preparing the boys' juice, looked up.
"That's impossible."
Serena's face tightened.
Miriam placed the tray on the table.
"Claire's invitation came through our community outreach program. Her children's medical information was never requested."
"Then somebody made a mistake," Serena snapped.
Miriam hesitated.
"Actually, there is something I should show you."
She opened a small cabinet and removed a cream-colored folder.
"Earlier this week, I found an old confidential file connected to the Cross family. I thought it was a recordkeeping error."
Gabriel took the folder.
On the first page were three names.
Leo Bennett.
Julian Bennett.
Mateo Bennett.
Beneath them was a classification written in red ink.
PRIVATE FAMILY BENEFICIARIES.
Gabriel's hands started shaking.
"Who authorized this?"
Miriam pointed to the signature.
"Serena Vale."
Serena took a step backward.
I looked at the date printed beneath her name.
And my stomach turned cold.
Because the file had been created eleven days before my sons were born.
Gabriel looked at Serena.
May you like
"You didn't just know about them," he whispered.
"You knew they were coming."
