Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Penthouse
Within ten minutes, Gabriel’s men had cleared the entire floor.
We were ushered not out the front doors where paparazzi had already gathered, but into a private, biometric elevator that shot straight up to Gabriel’s private penthouse suite at the top of the tower.
The door hissed open to a world of dark wood, floor-to-ceiling glass, and sheer masculine dominance. The city lights of New York glittered below like diamond dust.
“Sit,” Gabriel murmured softly, gesturing toward the plush Italian leather sofa.
Liam, Noah, and Caleb climbed up cautiously, their eyes wide. Noah began playing with the silver tassels on a velvet throw pillow, while Caleb tucked his face into my ribs.
Gabriel stood a few feet away, his tuxedo jacket discarded, sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing the dark, intricate tattoos of the Romano syndicate. His gaze was drinking in every inch of the boys—their hair, their hands, their breath.
Then his eyes lifted to mine.
The heat in his stare was suffocating. “Why, Claire?” he asked, pain vibrating through every syllable. “Why would you run with my blood? Did you think I was so monstrous that I wouldn’t love them?”
Anger flared in my chest, burning away my initial shock. I stood up, stepping between him and the boys.
“You gave me no choice, Gabriel!” I hissed in a fierce whisper. “Do not stand there and play the victim! You had divorce papers waiting for me at the breakfast table! You told me our marriage was a mistake!”
Gabriel flinched as if struck. “Because you were in danger!”
“I saw you!” I snapped, stepping closer, tears finally burning my eyes. “Three nights before you handed me those papers, I came to your office. I had your migraine pills. The elevator opened, and Serena was sitting on your desk. You were kissing her!”
Gabriel stared at me in total disbelief. “What?”
“Don't lie to me!”
“Claire, look at me!” Gabriel lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with gentle, desperate firmness. His pulse was racing against mine. “Look at my eyes. In our entire marriage, did I ever lie to you?”
“You cheated on me!”
“I was poisoned!” Gabriel growled, his voice breaking. “Serena’s father—Vincente Rossi—slipped scopolamine into my scotch. They staged that photograph, Claire! They wanted you to see it so you would run! Vincente told me that night that if I didn't let you go, a sniper would put a bullet in your head while you slept beside me!”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “What... what are you saying?”
“I divorced you to save your life!” Gabriel’s voice cracked with anguish. “I broke my own heart so you could live in peace! I thought you were safe! And all this time... you were alone, carrying three of my sons in the dark?”
Before I could process the gravity of his words, the penthouse intercom buzzed with static.
Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker, urgent and tight.
May you like
*“Boss, Serena talked downstairs. It’s bad. Vincente Rossi knows the kids are in the city. A convoy of three black SUVs just breached the Plaza parking garage.”*
***
