Chapter 8 - THE BROTHERS GABRIEL NEVER KNEW
Gabriel stared at the photograph until Marco touched his shoulder.
“Gabriel.”
“I heard you.”
“You okay?”
“No.”
The answer startled all of us.
Gabriel Cross never admitted weakness.
He looked at me.
“I was an only child.”
“That’s what you were told.”
He studied the picture.
The three boys looked similar.
Dark hair.
Gray-green eyes.
One was clearly Gabriel.
I recognized the stubborn crease between his eyebrows.
The other two resembled him enough to be family.
“How old were you here?”
I asked.
“Six.”
“Do you remember them?”
“No.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Marco scanned the image.
“There’s a date.”
Nineteen eighty-nine.
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“My mother was hospitalized that year.”
“For what?”
He hesitated.
“Nervous exhaustion.”
That was the official family phrase.
I suddenly wondered what it had actually meant.
“What happened to Michael and Adrian?”
“I don’t know.”
We eventually moved to the Brooklyn residence.
Owen refused to let Gabriel out of his sight despite announcing earlier that he no longer wanted to be his son.
Children were complicated.
Adults were worse.
That night, Gabriel searched private family archives.
I sat across from him.
Noah and Eli slept.
Owen had fallen asleep with his head on Gabriel’s thigh.
Gabriel typed with one hand so he would not disturb him.
It was painfully domestic.
Finally, a record appeared.
Michael Nathan Cross.
Born one year before Gabriel.
Died at age seven.
Cause: accidental drowning.
Another record.
Adrian James Cross.
Born two years after Gabriel.
Died at age four.
Cause: pneumonia.
Gabriel stared.
“I never knew.”
I whispered.
“Your parents had two other sons.”
“No.”
“But the records—”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“My mother could not have hidden two pregnancies from me.”
“You were a child.”
“Michael was older.”
“That one, maybe.”
“But Adrian?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I remember my mother being pregnant once.”
“When?”
“When I was seven.”
My skin prickled.
“What happened?”
“She lost the baby.”
“Are you sure?”
Gabriel slowly looked back at the screen.
Adrian’s birth date matched that pregnancy.
His supposed death came four years later.
Which meant Gabriel’s mother had not lost the baby.
The child had lived somewhere else.
“Why would they hide him?”
I asked.
Gabriel opened hospital archives.
Locked.
Marco called someone.
Twenty minutes later, they found a private psychiatric facility outside Albany.
Gabriel’s mother had been admitted there twice.
Both admissions occurred after the deaths of her sons.
Gabriel looked sick.
“What if she didn’t have nervous exhaustion?”
“What if she was grieving?”
I finished.
The answer seemed obvious.
Someone had taken her children.
Then convinced the surviving child they never existed.
Gabriel stood.
“I need Vincent.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“We need answers.”
“That is different.”
He paced.
“Why would my father hide his own sons?”
“Maybe he didn’t.”
Gabriel stopped.
“Vincent.”
I said.
The name sat between us.
Vincent had been trustee.
Vincent had raised Gabriel.
Vincent had controlled the estate.
Vincent had known about possible heirs.
I looked at the photograph again.
Only one was allowed to grow up.
“Who wrote that?”
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel zoomed in.
There was a fingerprint in old ink.
Marco sent the image for analysis.
While we waited, Owen woke.
He looked at Gabriel.
“Are you still my dad?”
Gabriel’s expression softened instantly.
“Only if you want.”
Owen thought.
“Okay.”
Gabriel smiled.
“That was fast.”
“I was mad before.”
“That’s allowed.”
Owen climbed onto his lap.
“Did bad people go away?”
“No.”
Owen sighed.
“Then you need better security.”
I laughed.
Gabriel looked offended.
“He definitely gets that from you.”
The fingerprint result arrived at midnight.
No match in criminal databases.
But an old employment file from Cross Freight had a partial print.
Anthony Bell.
The supposedly dead man.
Bell had written the message.
Which meant he had known Gabriel’s brothers.
Maybe he knew what happened to them.
The next morning, Serena contacted me.
Not Gabriel.
Me.
She asked to meet alone.
I refused.
She sent one sentence.
I KNOW WHERE ADRIAN CROSS IS.
I showed Gabriel.
He immediately said,
“No.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He stopped.
“Right.”
“Good progress.”
He exhaled.
“You’re not meeting her alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
We arranged a public location inside a courthouse café.
Patricia came.
Marco watched from across the room.
Serena arrived wearing sunglasses and no makeup.
She looked exhausted.
“Where is he?”
Gabriel asked.
Serena removed her glasses.
“I don’t know exactly.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“You said—”
“I know what name he uses.”
“What name?”
“Adam Reed.”
Gabriel froze.
I knew that name.
So did anyone involved with Cross Freight.
Adam Reed was a federal prosecutor.
He had spent eleven years investigating Gabriel.
My stomach dropped.
“Your brother is the prosecutor trying to put you in prison?”
Gabriel whispered.
Serena nodded.
“According to Vincent.”
“How long have you known?”
“Two days.”
“How?”
“Bell told me.”
“Why?”
“Because Bell hates Vincent.”
“That does not make him my friend.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
Gabriel sat back.
“Why would Adrian become Adam Reed?”
“Because he was adopted.”
Serena said.
“Bell claimed Vincent arranged it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel looked furious.
Serena continued.
“Bell said Nathan believed competition made sons strong.”
I felt ill.
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel whispered.
“My father used to say that.”
Serena looked at him.
“Bell said Nathan planned to divide his legitimate businesses among his sons when they became adults.”
“Vincent wanted control.”
I said.
Serena nodded.
“So he made sure only one son remained.”
Gabriel’s face became hollow.
“But why keep me?”
Serena answered softly.
“Because you were easiest to control.”
The words hurt him more than any accusation.
Gabriel had spent his life believing he was strong.
Chosen.
Prepared to inherit.
What if he had simply been the child Vincent thought he could manipulate?
Gabriel stood.
“I want to talk to Reed.”
Serena grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
He looked at her hand.
She released him.
“Why?”
“Because Vincent knows you found the photograph.”
“How?”
“Bell works for him.”
“You just said Bell hates him.”
“Both things can be true.”
That was chilling.
Serena looked at me.
“Vincent wants Gabriel to approach Reed.”
“Why?”
“Because Reed has spent eleven years trying to prove Gabriel is a criminal.”
Gabriel laughed without humor.
“He doesn’t need much proof.”
I looked at him.
He did not avoid my eyes.
Serena continued.
“If Gabriel approaches Reed privately and claims they are brothers, Reed will assume manipulation.”
“So?”
“So Vincent leaked something to the Justice Department this morning.”
Gabriel went still.
“What?”
Serena took out her phone.
A confidential memo.
The headline read:
POSSIBLE CROSS ORGANIZATION WITNESS TAMPERING OPERATION TARGETING AUSA ADAM REED.
Gabriel understood immediately.
If he approached Adam now, it could look like intimidation.
A trap.
Vincent wanted the two brothers to see each other as enemies.
Again.
Gabriel sat down.
I looked at Serena.
“Why are you helping us?”
She laughed quietly.
“You think I have a choice?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Her eyes filled with something close to fear.
“Vincent called me last night.”
“What did he say?”
“He thanked me.”
“For what?”
“For making sure Gabriel never had children with me.”
Silence.
Gabriel stared.
Serena’s voice shook.
“He said if I had given you a son, he would have had to solve that problem too.”
For the first time, I saw Serena not as the glamorous woman who had replaced me.
I saw someone who had spent years believing she stood beside power.
Only to discover she had been standing beside a grave.
Gabriel’s phone buzzed.
A text.
Unknown number.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Federal prosecutor Adam Reed leaving his townhouse that morning.
Beside him stood a teenage girl.
His daughter.
Underneath was a message.
ONE BROTHER HAS THREE SONS.
ONE BROTHER HAS ONE DAUGHTER.
LET’S SEE WHO LEARNS FASTER.
Gabriel stood.
His face changed completely.
Not anger.
Terror.
“Vincent isn’t targeting only my boys.”
He looked toward the courthouse exit.
May you like
“He’s targeting every Cross descendant.”
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