Chapter 3 - THE DEAD MAN’S MESSAGE
I had spent eighteen months grieving Gabriel.
Now I wanted to kill him.
The realization frightened me less than it should have.
On the screen, my husband looked almost exactly as I remembered him.
Dark hair.
Sharp jaw.
Calm blue eyes.
But something was different.
Maybe it had always been there and I had refused to see it.
Coldness.
“Hello, Damian,” Gabriel said.
Damian stood motionless in front of the monitor.
“You know who I am,” he replied.
Gabriel smiled.
“Everyone knows who you are.”
“Then you know this ends badly.”
“For someone.”
Gabriel pulled a chair closer to Dr. Warren.
The doctor Damian had ordered brought to the house.
I looked at Damian.
“That’s the doctor you called?”
“Yes.”
“Why him?”
“He examined Leah the night Bianca brought her.”
Gabriel nodded toward the camera.
“Good, Elena. You’re asking the right questions now.”
My stomach twisted.
“You can hear us?”
“Of course.”
Damian’s security chief moved toward the controls.
“Trace it.”
Gabriel laughed softly.
“Don’t waste your time.”
Then his expression turned toward me.
“Elena, I need you to understand something. None of this was supposed to happen.”
“You stole my baby.”
Leah was being held by Rosa behind us.
At the sound of my voice, she began crying.
Gabriel’s expression flickered.
“I saved her.”
“Saved her from what?”
“You.”
That hurt more than I expected.
I stepped toward the screen.
“You told me she died.”
“I had no choice.”
“You buried an empty coffin inside my life.”
“I kept you alive.”
Damian’s voice turned dangerous.
“Explain.”
Gabriel ignored him.
“Elena, when Sofia was born, things became complicated.”
My heart seized.
Sofia.
He used the name.
The name we had chosen.
I felt Leah shift behind me.
“Sofia,” I whispered.
Gabriel nodded.
“That was her name.”
Leah looked at me.
Then whispered something.
“Fia.”
Every person in the room froze.
Rosa covered her mouth.
My eyes filled.
“Fia,” Leah said again.
She knew.
Somewhere inside that silent little girl, the original name was still there.
Gabriel’s expression changed.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
Damian noticed.
“You didn’t expect that.”
Gabriel recovered quickly.
“Children remember strange things.”
“Children remember mothers,” I said.
His jaw tightened.
Then Dr. Warren suddenly lifted his head.
“Elena!”
Gabriel struck him across the face.
The doctor coughed.
“What does he know?”
I demanded.
Gabriel looked almost amused.
“Everything.”
Damian stepped closer to the monitor.
“What do you want?”
“A trade.”
“What kind?”
“Elena for Warren.”
“No.”
Gabriel smiled.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
I looked at Damian.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“He knows what happened.”
“And he expects you to walk into whatever trap he prepared.”
“He has answers.”
“He also faked his death.”
“I don’t care.”
Damian turned toward me.
“You should.”
I stepped closer.
“You had my daughter for two years.”
His eyes flashed.
“I didn’t steal her.”
“I know.”
The words surprised both of us.
“But you got two years.”
My voice cracked.
“Two birthdays. Two Christmas mornings. The first time she walked. The first time she got sick. Every night she cried.”
I pointed toward the screen.
“I got a death certificate.”
Damian’s anger disappeared.
I continued.
“So if there is even one chance that man can tell me why, I’m going.”
Leah suddenly cried.
“Mama!”
I turned.
She reached for me.
I went to her immediately.
Damian watched as I held her.
Then he looked at the monitor.
Gabriel watched too.
His face had gone strangely blank.
That unsettled me more than anger would have.
“Where?” Damian asked.
Gabriel gave an address.
An abandoned private clinic thirty miles outside the city.
“Midnight.”
“That’s ninety minutes.”
“Exactly.”
The screen went black.
For several seconds nobody moved.
Then Damian gave orders.
Fast.
Precise.
Teams.
Vehicles.
Snipers.
Drones.
I realized how quickly the businessman disappeared and the feared crime boss emerged.
He looked born for danger.
I was not.
But I had spent two years believing my child was dead.
Fear felt smaller now.
Damian approached me.
“You won’t go inside.”
“That was the condition.”
“He asked for you. He didn’t say you had to walk through the door.”
“You’re going to use me as bait.”
“Yes.”
At least he was honest.
Rosa stepped forward.
“Mr. Caruso, what about Leah?”
“She stays here.”
Leah screamed.
“No!”
Another word.
Damian froze again.
“No,” Leah repeated, clutching my shirt.
Her speech seemed to be returning in bursts, as though opening one door had unlocked others.
I kissed her hair.
“I’ll come back.”
She shook her head.
“No mama go.”
My throat tightened.
I had no idea whether she understood what was happening.
Maybe she understood more than any of us.
Damian crouched beside her.
“Leah.”
She looked away from him.
Something painful crossed his face.
He reached toward her slowly.
“You stay with Rosa.”
Leah buried herself against me.
Damian lowered his hand.
I looked at him.
“You love her.”
His expression hardened automatically.
It was as if the truth embarrassed him.
“She’s my family.”
“You thought she was your niece.”
“She is my daughter.”
The words were immediate.
Possessive.
Protective.
Final.
Something inside me tightened.
Because he was right.
Biology had not held Leah through nightmares.
Biology had not searched for specialists.
Biology had not spent two years waiting for one word.
Whatever the truth was, Damian was her father in every way that mattered.
That realization created a new fear.
What happened if the DNA test proved Leah was mine?
Would I take her?
Would he fight me?
Would she be forced to choose?
I looked at Leah.
No.
Not tonight.
Tonight we survived.
The rest could destroy us tomorrow.
An hour later, I sat inside a black SUV wearing a protective vest beneath a borrowed coat.
Damian sat beside me.
The city disappeared behind us.
“You carry guns often?” I asked.
He looked down at the pistol beside his leg.
“Often enough.”
“Have you killed people?”
His eyes moved toward me.
“Yes.”
I appreciated the fact he did not lie.
“Should that scare me?”
“Probably.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then you’re not thinking clearly.”
I looked out the window.
“My dead husband came back tonight, and my dead daughter called me Mama.”
I turned toward him.
“I think clear thinking has been canceled.”
For the first time, Damian almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
Twenty minutes later, his phone buzzed.
He read the message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He showed me.
DNA PRELIMINARY MATCH.
Probability of maternity: 99.98%.
The entire world went silent.
My hand flew to my mouth.
“She’s mine.”
Damian stared at the message.
Then closed his eyes.
For one second.
Only one.
When he opened them again, the feared Damian Caruso had returned.
But I had seen the man beneath him.
The father who had just learned the daughter he loved belonged biologically to someone else.
I reached toward him.
“Damian.”
He looked away.
“She’s still yours.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t know what happens next.”
“I know what you did for her.”
“That won’t matter in court.”
“I’m not talking about court.”
He turned.
Before either of us could say more, the driver shouted.
A truck exploded through the intersection ahead.
Our SUV swerved.
Metal screamed.
Glass shattered.
The vehicle spun.
Damian grabbed me and pulled me down.
Gunfire erupted outside.
The windshield cracked.
“Ambush!” someone shouted.
Damian fired through the broken side window.
I covered my head.
Then another vehicle slammed into us.
My door ripped open.
Hands grabbed me.
I screamed.
Damian caught my arm.
For one second we were connected.
Then someone struck him with the butt of a rifle.
His grip slipped.
I was dragged into the street.
A black van door opened.
Gabriel stood inside.
Alive.
Smiling.
May you like
“Hello, Elena.”
Then he pulled me into the van.
