Chapter 12 - ELENA CROSS
Gabriel did not open the door.
For nearly ten seconds, he simply stared.
The woman outside began crying.
“My son.”
Gabriel whispered,
“My mother is dead.”
I looked at him.
“Maybe she isn’t.”
“I buried her.”
“Did you see her body?”
His face changed.
That was my answer.
The funeral had been closed casket.
I remembered.
Gabriel opened the door.
The woman stood three feet away.
Up close, the resemblance was undeniable.
Same eyes.
Same shape around the mouth.
Age had changed her.
Time had not erased her.
Gabriel did not move.
Neither did she.
Finally, Elena lifted her hand.
She touched his cheek.
Gabriel flinched.
Then his entire face collapsed.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Like a wall losing strength after standing too long.
“Mom?”
She nodded.
Gabriel caught her before she fell.
I turned away.
Some reunions are too private even when they happen in front of you.
We brought Elena inside.
She drank water.
Her hands shook.
Gabriel sat across from her like a child afraid the person in front of him might disappear again.
“You died.”
“I know.”
“I attended your funeral.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Vincent.”
Of course.
Everything returned to Vincent.
She explained slowly.
After Adrian was smuggled away, Vincent discovered she had helped.
He threatened Gabriel.
Elena surrendered.
She agreed to remain silent.
Years later, when Nathan died, she tried to expose Vincent.
Vincent had her declared mentally incompetent.
He placed her in a private facility under another name.
Then he staged her death.
Gabriel stood.
“I’ll kill him.”
Elena grabbed his hand.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“That is what he wants.”
The same lesson I had been repeating.
Gabriel sat again.
“How did you get out?”
“Anthony.”
“Bell?”
“Yes.”
“He found me eight months ago.”
“Why not contact me?”
“I was afraid.”
The word shattered Gabriel.
“Of me?”
“No.”
“Of what Vincent had made you.”
Silence.
Gabriel looked away.
Elena continued.
“Anthony said you had changed.”
“Not enough.”
She touched his hand.
“You came from Nathan.”
“So did your brothers.”
“He shaped you.”
“But you are not finished.”
Gabriel said nothing.
I understood then that Gabriel’s lifelong fear had never been death.
It was becoming his father.
And everyone around him had spent years telling him he already had.
Elena looked at me.
“Claire.”
I swallowed.
“You remember me?”
“I remember everything.”
She smiled faintly.
“You wore yellow the first time Gabriel brought you home.”
I almost cried.
She had supposedly become ill before our wedding.
I had met her only several times.
“I thought you died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why were you looking for the ledger?”
Her expression changed.
“I wasn’t.”
I showed her the email account.
A.MARLOWE.
She shook her head.
“Not mine.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“Who else used that name?”
Elena looked at him.
“Adrian.”
Adam.
“When Anthony hid him, we registered him temporarily as Adrian Marlowe.”
The account could belong to Adam.
But Adam denied knowing anything.
Someone was using his childhood identity.
Elena looked at the ledger.
“Pages are missing.”
“Yes.”
“I have them.”
Gabriel stared.
“What?”
She reached inside her coat.
A small packet.
Old folded pages.
The missing section.
My heart raced.
“You had them all these years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan told me what they contained.”
Gabriel opened the first page.
Trust structure.
Names.
Beneficiaries.
Then one sentence underlined twice.
UPON THE SIXTH BIRTHDAY OF THREE LIVING MALE DESCENDANTS OF GABRIEL CROSS, ALL HERITAGE ASSETS TRANSFER TO A PROTECTIVE FOUNDATION CONTROLLED JOINTLY BY THEIR BIOLOGICAL PARENTS.
I stared.
“Jointly?”
Elena nodded.
“Vincent cannot control the trust if you and Claire are both alive.”
Gabriel understood.
“So he needs one of us dead.”
“No.”
Elena looked at me.
“He needs Claire dead.”
My blood went cold.
“Why me?”
“Because Nathan added another provision.”
She pointed.
IF ONE PARENT DIES BEFORE TRANSFER, CONTROL PASSES TO THE SURVIVING PARENT’S APPOINTED FAMILY TRUSTEE.
Gabriel frowned.
“My appointed trustee is—”
He stopped.
Vincent.
When Gabriel had created his estate plan years ago, he named Vincent backup trustee.
If I died before the boys turned six, and Gabriel survived, Vincent could potentially gain control through Gabriel’s existing structure.
“But Gabriel can change that.”
I said.
Elena nodded.
“Now.”
Gabriel stood.
“Rebecca changes everything today.”
Elena grabbed his hand again.
“Vincent knows.”
“How?”
“Anthony told him the boys were alive six weeks ago.”
“Why?”
Gabriel demanded.
Elena’s face filled with grief.
“Because Vincent found me.”
Silence.
“He threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“Anthony traded information.”
“To keep me alive.”
Gabriel looked away.
Bell had betrayed the boys to save Elena.
No one in this family had clean hands.
Not even the people trying to help.
I thought of my sons.
Every adult decision seemed to create another danger around them.
“I’m taking them away.”
I said.
Gabriel looked at me.
“As soon as the court order ends.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I was surprised.
“You’re not arguing?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother is alive.”
He looked toward Elena.
“My brother is alive.”
“My uncle killed another brother.”
“And someone has tried to take Owen.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“I’m finished pretending proximity to me is protection.”
That was the first truly selfless thing I had heard him say.
The court restriction ended that afternoon.
We prepared to leave for a secured location in Vermont.
Adam arranged federal protection.
For the first time, Gabriel would not know the exact address.
He accepted that.
The boys did not.
Owen cried.
“Dad is coming.”
“No.”
I said gently.
“He has work.”
Owen looked betrayed.
“You always say work isn’t more important than family.”
My heart hurt.
Gabriel crouched.
“Your mom is right.”
Owen frowned.
“My work right now is keeping bad people away from you.”
“Then do it from our house.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at me.
Then back at Owen.
“Because some of the bad things started with me.”
Owen did not understand.
He hugged Gabriel anyway.
Noah was quieter.
He handed Gabriel a folded paper airplane.
“For luck.”
Gabriel held it carefully.
“Thank you.”
Eli hugged him last.
“Don’t get dead.”
Gabriel almost laughed.
“I’ll try.”
We drove away.
I watched Gabriel shrink in the rear window.
For the first time since the gala, I wondered whether I might actually miss him.
Then our escort radio crackled.
The lead federal vehicle suddenly slowed.
Our driver frowned.
“What?”
I asked.
“Road closure.”
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“Do not change route.”
The driver nodded.
The lead vehicle stopped completely.
An officer stepped out.
He approached our car.
I lowered the window slightly.
“Problem?”
He removed his sunglasses.
I had never seen him before.
“Routine security adjustment.”
Something felt wrong.
I looked at his badge.
The name was familiar.
Agent Thomas Reed.
Adam’s adoptive cousin.
He smiled.
Then I noticed the photograph tucked beneath his clipboard.
My sons.
Marked with three red circles.
I locked the doors.
The agent’s smile disappeared.
“Claire.”
The driver reached for his radio.
The supposed federal agent pulled something from his jacket.
I screamed,
“DRIVE!”
Our SUV accelerated.
The man jumped aside.
Behind us, the lead federal vehicle blocked the road.
Our own escort had been compromised.
The boys started crying.
I called Gabriel.
He answered instantly.
“What happened?”
“They knew the route.”
Silence.
“Who?”
“Someone inside federal protection.”
Gabriel’s voice changed.
“Claire, listen to me.”
“I am.”
“Do not go to Vermont.”
“Where do I go?”
He paused.
Then gave me an address.
I recognized it.
“No.”
“It’s the only place Vincent can’t enter without starting a war.”
“Gabriel.”
“Trust me once.”
I hated those words.
But I looked at my sons.
And I did.
Our driver turned south.
Three hours later, we arrived at a compound hidden deep in the Catskills.
Armed guards opened iron gates.
An older man stood waiting on the steps.
I knew his face from newspapers.
Salvatore Moretti.
For thirty years, the Moretti family had been the Cross family’s greatest rival.
I stared at Gabriel’s enemy.
He smiled at my sons.
Then looked at me.
“Welcome, Mrs. Cross.”
“Bennett.”
I corrected.
His smile widened.
“Even better.”
He stepped aside.
“You’re safer here than with your husband.”
Then he added quietly,
“Because Vincent Cross is not trying to steal Gabriel’s empire.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Salvatore’s expression became serious.
“He’s trying to start a war big enough to bury every Cross left alive.”
May you like
And somewhere behind us, the gates locked.
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