Chapter 5 - The Night His Empire Turned Against Him
Gabriella’s lighter went out.
“What did you say?”
Ricardo stepped farther into the dim restaurant.
“Elena is alive.”
I stared at him.
“You told me you thought she was dead.”
“I said I believed someone killed her.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
“Pretty close.”
Gabriella seemed unable to breathe.
“You’re lying.”
Ricardo ignored her.
He looked at me instead.
“I found Elena three weeks ago.”
The betrayal hit strangely.
We weren’t together.
We weren’t even friends in any normal sense.
But I had trusted him with my fear.
And he had given me half the truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Elena asked me not to.”
Gabriella laughed sharply.
“Elena disappeared twelve years ago.”
“She was hiding.”
“From you?”
“No.”
Ricardo’s gaze shifted toward Gabriella.
“From your brother.”
Gabriella froze.
I looked between them.
“You have a brother?”
“Half brother,” Gabriella said.
Ricardo continued.
“Victor Parker worked with one of my shipping managers. Elena discovered they were trafficking narcotics through containers carrying imported marble.”
Gabriella’s voice became thin.
“That’s impossible.”
“You knew Victor was dirty.”
“Not that.”
“Enough.”
Gabriella shook her head.
“No.”
“Victor found out Elena was collecting evidence. She ran before he could reach her.”
“Why didn’t she go to police?”
“She tried.”
Ricardo’s jaw tightened.
“Someone inside the department warned Victor.”
This was bigger than damaged paintings.
Bigger than jealousy.
Gabriella slowly lowered herself into a chair.
“My brother died eight years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And Elena stayed hidden?”
“She had a daughter.”
Silence.
“She thought coming back would put the girl at risk.”
Gabriella stared at him.
“You found her.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She contacted me.”
“Why now?”
Ricardo looked toward me.
“Because Victor kept records.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that have to do with Gabriella?”
“Elena believes someone else continued his operation.”
Gabriella stood quickly.
“You think it was me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always assume the worst.”
“You vandalized Claire’s workplace.”
Her face twisted.
“That has nothing to do with Victor.”
“No. That was simply cruelty.”
Gabriella looked at me.
And suddenly she didn’t appear powerful.
She looked exhausted.
“I wanted him to notice me.”
The confession was so quiet I almost missed it.
Ricardo’s face remained unreadable.
Gabriella laughed bitterly.
“Twelve years, Ricardo.”
He said nothing.
“I watched you walk into rooms and treat everyone like furniture. You called when you wanted company. You disappeared when you didn’t.”
She wiped angrily at her eyes.
“And I kept telling myself eventually you would understand what I had given you.”
“I never promised you—”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“That’s your favorite defense.”
I looked at Ricardo.
He stopped.
Gabriella turned toward me.
“And then you appeared.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know.”
“Then why punish me?”
“Because he looked at you differently.”
My chest tightened.
Gabriella continued.
“He listened when you spoke.”
Ricardo looked away.
“He never listened to me.”
Something about that hurt.
Not enough to excuse what she’d done.
But enough to understand the wound beneath it.
I approached my mother’s painting.
“Give it back.”
Gabriella looked at the canvas.
“I wasn’t going to burn it.”
“You brought a lighter.”
“I wanted you scared.”
“You succeeded.”
For the first time, shame crossed her face.
“Claire—”
“No.”
I lifted the painting carefully.
“You don’t get forgiveness because you were hurt.”
She swallowed.
“But hurt explains things.”
I looked at Ricardo.
“For both of you.”
He understood.
I carried the painting toward the door.
Then headlights swept across the restaurant windows.
Several vehicles stopped outside.
Ricardo immediately moved toward me.
“Stay behind me.”
“I thought we stopped with commands.”
“This one you can complain about later.”
Doors slammed.
Men entered.
Not Ricardo’s.
Gabriella looked terrified.
“Who are they?”
Ricardo’s expression darkened.
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
A man stepped through the entrance.
Mid-fifties.
Expensive coat.
Smile without warmth.
Gabriella whispered, “Uncle Stephen?”
Ricardo’s reaction told me the name mattered.
Stephen Parker.
Gabriella’s mother’s brother.
He looked around the room.
“Well.”
His gaze stopped on Gabriella.
“You always were dramatic.”
Gabriella backed away.
“Why are you here?”
“Because you created a problem.”
“What problem?”
“Her.”
He pointed at me.
My blood went cold.
Ricardo stepped between us.
Stephen smiled.
“Still collecting strays, Santoro?”
“Careful.”
“There he is.”
Stephen’s men spread out.
Ricardo had come without his usual security because I demanded it.
Guilt hit me.
He noticed.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Blame yourself.”
Stephen chuckled.
“You two are adorable.”
Gabriella stared at her uncle.
“Were you involved with Victor?”
Stephen’s smile faded.
“Your brother talked too much.”
Understanding hit her.
“You continued the operation.”
“Business continued.”
Ricardo’s voice hardened.
“You used my shipping terminals.”
“For several profitable years.”
“And Elena?”
Stephen shrugged.
“She became inconvenient.”
Ricardo took one step forward.
I had never seen violence in someone’s stillness before.
Stephen noticed.
“She survived,” he said quickly.
“Because she ran.”
“Exactly.”
Gabriella’s face collapsed.
“All these years…”
Stephen looked at her.
“Oh, Gabriella. Don’t become sentimental.”
“You knew?”
“Of course.”
“And you let me believe Ricardo killed her?”
“It kept you angry at the correct person.”
“No.”
Gabriella’s voice shook.
“The convenient person.”
For the first time, she looked at Ricardo without resentment.
Only horror.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t answer.
Stephen sighed.
“This is touching.”
He gestured toward one of his men.
“Take the restorer’s phone.”
Ricardo moved.
Three men immediately blocked him.
Stephen smiled.
“No heroics.”
Gabriella stepped in front of me.
That shocked everyone.
Including me.
“Leave her alone.”
Stephen laughed.
“You were threatening her yesterday.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Move.”
“No.”
He slapped the air with his hand in frustration but did not touch her.
“You’ve always been exhausting.”
Gabriella glanced at me.
“Back door. Kitchen.”
I didn’t move.
“What?”
“Run.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
She almost smiled.
“You really are foolish.”
Stephen’s man advanced.
Ricardo struck first.
Chaos erupted.
No graphic violence.
Just bodies colliding, chairs falling, glass breaking.
Ricardo grabbed my hand.
“Now.”
We ran toward the kitchen.
Gabriella followed.
Behind us, Stephen shouted.
We reached the rear exit.
Locked.
Ricardo kicked the old latch once.
Nothing.
Again.
The door flew open.
Cold ocean air crashed over us.
A black SUV screeched into the alley.
Ricardo’s security.
He must have planned backup despite my conditions.
I had never been happier that someone ignored me.
We piled inside.
As the vehicle pulled away, Gabriella stared through the rear window.
“My uncle will come after me.”
Ricardo looked at her.
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“Will you help me?”
For a long moment he didn’t answer.
Then he said:
“If Claire asks me to.”
Gabriella looked at me.
So did Ricardo.
I stared at both of them.
“This is absurd.”
Ricardo waited.
Gabriella’s pride finally broke.
“Please.”
One word.
No power.
No threats.
Just fear.
I looked at Ricardo.
“Help her.”
He nodded.
Then Gabriella reached into her purse.
“I have something.”
She removed a small flash drive.
“My brother gave this to me thirteen years ago. Told me never to open it unless something happened to him.”
Ricardo’s eyes narrowed.
“You kept it?”
“I forgot about it until tonight.”
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
Ricardo took the drive.
His phone rang.
He listened for ten seconds.
Then every trace of relief disappeared.
“What happened?” I asked.
He ended the call.
“Elena Russo’s safe house was attacked.”
Gabriella covered her mouth.
“Is she alive?”
Ricardo looked at me.
“Yes.”
“And her daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
He held up the flash drive.
“Stephen knows this exists.”
Outside, another black vehicle appeared behind us.
Fast.
Too fast.
Ricardo looked toward the driver.
“Lose them.”
The SUV accelerated into the rainy Atlantic City night.
And for the first time, Gabriella and I were no longer enemies.
May you like
We were both running from the same man.
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