Chapter 6 - THE MAN GABRIEL CALLED DADDY
“My son calls Victor his father.”
Alexander's voice sounded unfamiliar.
Emily looked at the photograph.
The little boy standing beside Victor looked healthy.
His coat was expensive.
His shoes were polished.
He was smiling as Victor adjusted his scarf.
Nothing about the picture resembled a kidnapping.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“Maybe Victor told him you were dead,” Emily said.
Alexander stared at the photograph.
“Or maybe he told him I didn't want him.”
Emily didn't answer.
There was no comfort she could honestly offer.
Marcus studied the vehicle records.
“The red car returned to the Moretti estate in Greenwich.”
Alexander looked up.
“My grandfather's house?”
“Yes.”
Alexander hadn't lived there in years.
After Isabella's funeral, he had moved permanently into the casino penthouse.
Victor had taken responsibility for maintaining the old estate.
He hosted charity dinners there.
Business meetings.
Christmas celebrations Alexander refused to attend.
The thought of Gabriel growing up inside his childhood home made Alexander feel physically ill.
All those birthdays.
All those Christmas mornings.
A child laughing in rooms Alexander couldn't bear to enter.
And Victor had watched him grieve.
“Get the car,” Alexander said.
Emily caught his sleeve.
“Wait.”
He looked at her.
“If Gabriel believes Victor is his father, you can't storm into his life and demand he recognize you.”
Alexander's jaw tightened.
“Victor stole my son.”
“I know.”
“Then you know why I have to go.”
“Yes,” she said. “But Gabriel doesn't.”
That stopped him.
Emily stepped closer.
“Think about Noah. If someone walked into this room and told him another woman was his real mother, he'd be terrified.”
Alexander looked toward the sofa.
Noah slept peacefully, clutching his dinosaur.
“What would you do?” Alexander asked.
Emily considered the question.
“I'd tell him the truth slowly. And I'd make sure he understood he hadn't done anything wrong.”
Alexander looked down at Gabriel's picture.
He had spent his life expecting obedience.
But children were not employees.
And love could not be commanded.
“Come with me,” he said.
Emily blinked.
“Why?”
“Because I need someone who will tell me when I'm wrong.”
She almost smiled.
“You won't enjoy that.”
“I suspect you're right.”
They left Noah with Dr. Bennett and two security officers Emily had personally approved.
Before leaving, she kissed her son's forehead.
Noah stirred.
“Mommy?”
“I'm right here.”
“Is the lady okay?”
Emily brushed his hair.
“We're trying to help her.”
Noah nodded sleepily.
“Tell her Gabe misses her.”
Emily froze.
“What?”
Noah opened one eye.
“She said he thinks she went away.”
Alexander stepped closer.
“Did she say that?”
Noah nodded.
“She cried.”
Emily hugged him tightly.
Then she followed Alexander toward the elevator.
The Moretti estate appeared through the snowfall shortly after three in the morning.
Its windows glowed warmly.
A Christmas tree stood in the entrance hall.
Alexander recognized the decorations.
Isabella had selected them during their first holiday together.
Victor had kept everything exactly as she left it.
Except for one thing.
A new family portrait hung above the fireplace.
Victor sat in a leather chair.
Beside him stood Gabriel.
The little boy wore a navy sweater and rested one hand on Victor's shoulder.
Alexander stopped in front of it.
Emily watched his expression.
“Breathe,” she whispered.
He managed one slow breath.
Then Victor entered.
“Alexander.”
The older man looked remarkably calm.
At sixty-two, Victor Moretti remained handsome in a severe way. His silver hair was neatly combed, and his expensive robe hung over silk pajamas.
“It's late.”
Alexander turned.
“Where is Gabriel?”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“Who told you that name?”
“Where is my son?”
Victor glanced at Emily.
Recognition flickered across his face.
“Emily Carter.”
She straightened.
“Hello, Victor.”
“I thought you'd learned to stay out of family matters.”
Alexander stepped between them.
“Don't speak to her.”
Victor studied his nephew.
“You've been to Ravenswood.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know things are more complicated than they appear.”
Alexander laughed once.
Without humor.
“My wife is alive. My son is alive. And you've kept both from me.”
Victor looked toward the staircase.
“Lower your voice.”
“Where is Gabriel?”
“He's sleeping.”
“Bring him down.”
“No.”
Alexander went still.
Victor approached him.
“For once in your life, listen before you destroy something you don't understand.”
“Explain.”
Victor looked older suddenly.
“Six years ago, your wife discovered that men inside our organization were using the charitable foundation to move money and conceal medical payments.”
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
“Your payments.”
“Some were mine. Some belonged to men far more dangerous.”
“Names.”
Victor shook his head.
“You still think this is about money.”
“What else?”
Victor looked directly at him.
“Survival.”
Alexander stepped closer.
“Whose?”
“Gabriel's.”
Emily felt a chill.
Victor continued.
“Isabella wanted to expose everything. She believed she could walk into a federal office and tell them what she'd found.”
Alexander swallowed.
“She should have told me.”
Victor's expression sharpened.
“She tried.”
Silence.
Alexander stared at him.
“What?”
“Three days before the accident, she came to your office.”
Alexander remembered.
He had been in Atlantic City negotiating a dangerous dispute.
His assistant had told him Isabella called.
He had instructed everyone not to interrupt.
“Victor,” he said slowly, “what happened?”
“I told her you were busy.”
Alexander's face went pale.
Victor looked away.
“And then I told her you already knew.”
Emily whispered, “You monster.”
Victor ignored her.
“I thought if she believed you were involved, she'd stop investigating.”
“Instead, she ran.”
“Yes.”
“And you locked her away.”
Victor's face twisted.
“I kept her alive!”
Alexander stared at him.
Victor's voice cracked.
“You don't understand what would have happened if the others found her.”
“Then why not tell me?”
“Because your enemies knew how to use your temper. One wrong move, and they'd have killed her and the baby.”
Alexander felt his hands shaking.
He forced them still.
“Who were they?”
Victor didn't answer.
A small voice interrupted from the stairs.
“Daddy?”
Everyone turned.
A boy stood halfway down the staircase.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
A navy sweater.
Gabriel.
Alexander forgot how to breathe.
The child looked at Victor.
“Daddy, why are people shouting?”
Victor's expression changed instantly.
He moved toward the stairs.
“It's all right, Gabriel.”
The boy descended two steps.
Then noticed Alexander.
He stared.
Alexander felt tears burn his eyes.
The resemblance was undeniable.
Gabriel had Isabella's mouth.
His own eyes.
And the slight crookedness of his grandfather's smile.
“Hello,” Alexander whispered.
Gabriel looked uncertain.
“Hi.”
Alexander crouched.
“My name is Alexander.”
The boy glanced at Victor.
“I know.”
Alexander froze.
“You do?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Daddy has your picture.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Alexander's voice trembled.
“What does he tell you about me?”
The child looked down.
“That you're my uncle.”
Alexander looked at Victor.
The older man said nothing.
Gabriel continued.
“He says you get angry a lot.”
Alexander swallowed.
“Sometimes I do.”
Gabriel considered this.
“Are you angry now?”
Alexander looked at the boy.
Then at Emily.
“No,” he said quietly. “I'm sad.”
Gabriel's expression softened.
“Why?”
Alexander wanted to tell him everything.
Instead, he answered the only truth the child could safely carry.
“Because I missed a lot of time with someone important.”
Gabriel nodded as though he understood.
Then he reached beneath his sweater.
He pulled out a small gold necklace.
Alexander recognized it.
Isabella's wedding ring.
The ring she had worn on a chain at Ravenswood.
“Mommy gave me this,” Gabriel said.
Alexander stared.
“When?”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“Last Christmas.”
Victor went white.
Alexander slowly rose.
“You told me Isabella couldn't see him.”
Victor's expression hardened.
Gabriel looked between them.
“Mommy said not to tell.”
Alexander crouched again.
“Why, sweetheart?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Then whispered, “Because Daddy Victor said she was sick.”
Alexander's chest tightened.
Gabriel looked toward Victor.
“But Mommy isn't sick anymore.”
Victor closed his eyes.
The boy continued.
“She told me she was going to bring me home.”
Alexander felt hope surge.
“Where is Mommy now?”
Gabriel looked frightened.
He glanced toward the window.
Then reached into his pocket.
He handed Alexander a folded photograph.
It showed Isabella standing beside a Christmas tree.
She was thinner than Alexander remembered.
But unmistakably alive.
On the back was a message in her handwriting.
ALEX, IF YOU SEE THIS, PLEASE BELIEVE ME. I DIDN'T LEAVE YOU.
Alexander looked at Victor.
“Where is she?”
Before Victor could answer, Gabriel tugged on Alexander's sleeve.
“Uncle Alex?”
Alexander lowered his eyes.
“Yes?”
The little boy whispered, “Mommy told me something else.”
“What?”
Gabriel's eyes filled with tears.
“She said Grandpa Victor is scared of the man with the black gloves.”
Alexander slowly turned toward his uncle.
May you like
Victor's face had gone completely gray.
And for the first time in Alexander's life, he saw genuine terror in Victor Moretti's eyes.
