Chapter 5 - The Man Who Had Been Watching Her
Gabriel moved Lena out of her apartment that night.
She protested for exactly twelve minutes.
Then he showed her the photograph again.
She stopped arguing.
Mostly.
“I’m not staying in your penthouse.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“You have an entire hotel.”
“My security is better.”
“You realize ordering me around makes me want to disagree automatically.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Ben drove them.
Lena sat in the back beside Gabriel, staring through the window.
After several minutes she whispered, “I’m scared.”
Gabriel looked at her.
It was the first time she had admitted it.
His hand moved across the seat.
He didn’t grab hers.
He simply placed it there, palm up.
An invitation.
Lena looked at it.
Then slowly placed her hand in his.
Neither spoke.
Gabriel’s penthouse occupied the top floor of a building overlooking Manhattan.
Lena barely noticed the view.
She wanted answers.
“Tell me about Victor.”
Gabriel poured coffee.
“My father’s younger brother. Brilliant. Charming. Ruthless.”
“That sounds familiar.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Was that a joke?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. Terror hasn’t damaged your personality.”
She smiled despite herself.
“What happened between them?”
“They built Rossi Holdings together. Then my father forced Victor out.”
“Why?”
“I was told he stole from the company.”
Lena’s smile disappeared.
“Stole?”
“Yes.”
“Six years ago?”
Gabriel stopped.
The implication settled between them.
“When?”
He thought.
“Almost exactly six years ago.”
Lena stood.
“What if the Bellamy money wasn’t separate?”
Gabriel was already reaching for his laptop.
For the next three hours, they reconstructed transactions from Michael’s files.
Payments from Bellamy vendors flowed into shell corporations.
Those companies transferred money overseas.
Then portions returned through investments connected to Victor.
At 2:14 a.m., Lena found it.
“Gabriel.”
He came behind her.
A company named Marlowe Strategic Holdings.
Its registration date was eight years earlier.
Its listed director had died twelve years earlier.
“That’s impossible,” Lena said.
“No.”
Gabriel’s voice was cold.
“It’s deliberate.”
They traced another transaction.
And another.
Finally, Gabriel leaned back.
“Your father discovered Victor was using the Bellamy.”
“And your father found out.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t Antonio expose him?”
Gabriel didn’t answer.
Lena understood.
“Family.”
“My father would have tried to handle it privately.”
“And that gave Victor time.”
“Yes.”
A terrible possibility filled the room.
“Time to silence my father.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll prove it.”
Lena looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because he deserves justice.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not the only reason.”
Gabriel held her gaze.
“No.”
The room became very quiet.
He stepped closer.
“I’ve spent my entire life around people who wanted something from me.”
Lena’s breathing changed.
“You’ve known me two days.”
“Three.”
“That correction isn’t helping.”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
For once Gabriel Rossi looked uncertain.
It affected Lena more than his confidence ever had.
“You walked into my life,” he said, “told me no in front of half a hotel, protected two strangers, insulted my social skills, and somehow made me care what you think of me.”
“I didn’t insult your social skills.”
“You said I needed better friends.”
“That was constructive criticism.”
He laughed softly.
Then his expression changed.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Lena’s eyes softened.
“Gabriel.”
He stopped inches away.
She could have moved.
She didn’t.
Their first kiss was nothing like their arguments.
It was careful.
Almost hesitant.
Gabriel touched her cheek as if asking permission even after she had already given it.
When they separated, Lena whispered:
“That was a terrible idea.”
“Probably.”
“We shouldn’t do it again.”
“No.”
They kissed again.
The next morning, Ben arrived with news.
“We found Victor.”
“Where?”
“The Bellamy.”
Gabriel stood.
“What?”
“He checked into the presidential suite.”
Lena stared.
“Why would he do that?”
Ben placed a photograph on the table.
Victor Rossi looked older than Gabriel, silver at his temples, elegant and smiling.
“He wants to meet Lena.”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“No.”
Lena picked up the photograph.
“When?”
“Ten.”
“No,” Gabriel repeated.
She looked at him.
“You don’t get to decide.”
“This man may have killed your father.”
“Exactly.”
“Lena.”
“If he wants me, I want to know why.”
At ten, Victor waited in the Bellamy’s library.
He stood when Lena entered.
Gabriel remained beside her.
Victor smiled.
“So this is Michael’s daughter.”
Lena’s stomach turned.
“You knew my father?”
“Very well.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Careful.”
Victor ignored him.
“Your father was an honorable man, Lena.”
“Did you kill him?”
Victor’s smile faded.
“No.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He reached into his coat.
Gabriel’s security moved.
Victor slowly produced a small black notebook.
Lena stared.
“The ledger?”
Victor smiled.
“No.”
He placed it on the table.
“This is your father’s journal.”
Lena opened it.
Michael’s handwriting covered every page.
She turned to the final entry.
Her face drained.
Gabriel leaned over.
Michael had written only four lines.
Antonio knows everything.
He says Victor isn’t responsible.
We were wrong from the beginning.
The person stealing from the Bellamy is someone Lena trusts.
Lena looked at Victor.
“Who?”
Victor’s expression became almost sympathetic.
“You’ve been asking who killed your father.”
He leaned forward.
“You should have been asking who benefited from his death.”
Then he said a name.
And Lena stopped breathing.
May you like
“Tessa Lane.”
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