Chapter 10 - The Man Vincent Used to Be
The adoption review was postponed.
Claire delivered the news personally.
Vincent did not shout.
That worried everyone more.
“How long?”
“Until the threat assessment is completed.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent turned toward the windows.
Eli was doing homework at the dining table.
Bruno slept underneath.
The boy was writing the word family ten times because he had misspelled it on a spelling test.
Vincent had learned that helping a child with homework was more difficult than negotiating property contracts.
“Can Victor stop the adoption?”
Claire answered carefully.
“He can delay things.”
“Can he stop it?”
“Not if we establish that your home remains safe and that you remain suitable.”
Vincent looked at her.
“And my past?”
“That is becoming the larger issue.”
Daniel entered with a thick folder.
“My favorite subject.”
Vincent sat.
Daniel opened it.
“Opposing counsel requested records from fifteen years ago.”
“Which ones?”
“Everything tied to Crowe Industrial acquisitions.”
Marcus whistled softly.
Vincent said nothing.
Eli looked up from across the room.
“Dad, what’s eight plus seven?”
“Fifteen.”
“Thanks.”
He returned to writing.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“There were no criminal convictions.”
“No.”
“But there were allegations.”
“Yes.”
“Threats.”
“Alleged.”
“Business interference.”
“Competitive strategy.”
Daniel stared.
Vincent sighed.
“Yes.”
“People lost companies.”
“Yes.”
“People accused you of coercion.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
Vincent looked toward Eli.
Years earlier, the answer would have been simple.
Not illegally.
Today that seemed insufficient.
“Sometimes.”
Marcus’s head turned.
Daniel remained still.
“That is the first time you have ever admitted that.”
“I’m aware.”
“Why now?”
Vincent watched Eli erase something.
“Because eventually he’ll ask.”
Daniel closed the folder.
The review board wanted a full psychological evaluation.
Vincent hated every second.
Dr. Helen Brooks sat opposite him in a plain office.
No expensive furniture.
No intimidated employees.
No one cared who he was.
“Tell me about your father.”
“Never met him.”
“Mother?”
“Never met her.”
“Earliest memory?”
Vincent looked away.
“A hallway.”
“What about it?”
“I was waiting.”
“For?”
“Someone to pick me up.”
“Did they?”
“No.”
“How old?”
“Five.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Helen waited.
Vincent disliked her immediately.
“What do you think Eli feels when he waits for you?”
The question hit too accurately.
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“He worries.”
“Why?”
“Because people left.”
“And what do you do when he worries?”
“I tell him I’m coming back.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Always?”
Vincent remembered the warehouse.
“No.”
“What happened then?”
“He was scared.”
“And?”
“I apologized.”
Helen wrote something.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You wrote something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That you apologized.”
Vincent leaned back.
“Is that unusual?”
“For you?”
He almost smiled.
“Yes.”
The sessions continued.
Vincent spoke about the orphanage.
Fights.
Hunger.
Being eighteen with fifty dollars and no family.
He worked construction.
Loaded trucks.
Slept in cheap rooms.
Built contacts.
Bought a failing warehouse with borrowed money.
Turned it profitable.
Then bought another.
Success made him harder.
Betrayal made him colder.
Eventually people feared disappointing him.
Vincent discovered fear was efficient.
He used it.
He told himself he had become powerful because nobody had protected him.
Helen challenged him.
“Or did you become powerful so no one could abandon you?”
Vincent did not return for three days.
Then Eli asked why.
“Because she asks annoying questions.”
“Teachers do that.”
Vincent stared.
Eli shrugged.
“You still have to go.”
So Vincent went back.
Meanwhile, Victor remained missing.
Federal investigators found payments to private contractors.
Most had stopped cooperating when Victor disappeared.
One did not.
A former investigator named Darren Pike.
Marcus identified him in security footage near Eli’s school.
Pike had followed Rachel for years.
The photograph frightened Vincent more than Victor did.
Victor was emotional.
Pike was professional.
Daniel arranged an emergency protective order.
Marcus changed routes daily.
Eli complained.
“Why can’t we go to the diner anymore?”
“Security.”
“I miss Megan.”
“We’ll go later.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“You say soon when you don’t know.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Correct.”
Eli sighed dramatically.
“You need better words.”
That Friday, Helen completed her preliminary report.
She met Vincent and Claire.
“I find no evidence that Mr. Crowe poses a danger to the child.”
Vincent exhaled.
Helen continued.
“However.”
Vincent frowned.
“There is always a however.”
Helen ignored him.
“His protective instincts can become controlling.”
Claire nodded.
Vincent glared at both women.
“And?”
“He must demonstrate willingness to prioritize Eli’s emotional independence, not merely physical safety.”
Vincent looked confused.
“He’s six.”
“He will not always be.”
Helen leaned forward.
“You cannot protect him from every risk.”
“I can try.”
“That may damage him.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
Helen continued.
“You learned survival through control. Eli needs to learn safety through trust.”
Those words stayed with Vincent.
That evening he took Eli to the roof garden.
The city glowed beneath them.
“Do you know why people call me the Wolf?”
Eli shook his head.
“Because I spent years making sure people were afraid of me.”
“Were you mean?”
“Sometimes.”
“How mean?”
“Enough.”
Eli thought.
“Did you like it?”
Vincent considered the question.
“I liked what fear gave me.”
“What?”
“Control.”
“Why?”
Vincent looked over the city.
“Because when I was little, I had none.”
Eli sat beside him.
“I didn’t have control either.”
“No.”
“But I had Bruno.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
“You did.”
“And Lightning.”
“Yes.”
“And now you.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Now me.”
Eli leaned against his arm.
“Maybe you don’t need people scared anymore.”
Vincent swallowed.
Maybe.
The next morning, Marcus received an anonymous package.
Inside was an old orphanage photograph.
Vincent at eight years old.
Thin.
Angry.
Standing alone at the edge of a group.
On the back, Victor had written:
YOU WERE ABANDONED ONCE. LET’S SEE HOW YOU HANDLE IT TWICE.
Vincent stared at his childhood face.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Victor’s voice.
“You should have given me the evidence.”
“Where are you?”
“You’re becoming sentimental, Vincent.”
“Where?”
“Tell Eli I said hello.”
Vincent stood.
“Come near him and—”
Victor laughed.
“There. That’s the Wolf.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
He understood the trap.
He lowered his voice.
“You want me angry.”
“I want you honest.”
“No.”
Vincent looked toward Eli’s bedroom.
“You want me predictable.”
Silence.
Vincent continued.
“That version of me is gone.”
Victor’s tone changed.
“We’ll see.”
The call ended.
Marcus traced it.
Burner phone.
Discarded two miles away.
But something else had happened.
Victor had made a mistake.
Street noise behind his voice included a train bell.
A church clock.
And the horn of a riverboat.
There was only one district where all three sounds overlapped.
Vincent knew it.
So did Marcus.
They finally had a location.
And this time, Vincent would have to decide whether to meet Victor as the Wolf—
May you like
or as Eli’s father.
---
