Chapter 5 - The Wolf Wants a Son
Daniel arrived at seven in the morning and found Vincent sitting at the kitchen island while Eli attempted to teach Bruno how to catch cereal.
Daniel stopped.
The cereal landed on the floor.
Bruno ate it.
Eli cheered.
“Again!”
Vincent took the cereal box away.
“No.”
“One more.”
“No.”
“Bruno likes it.”
“Bruno is not in charge.”
Eli looked at the dog.
“I think he disagrees.”
Daniel stared.
Vincent noticed him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m trying to understand what happened to you.”
Eli answered for him.
“He became a dad.”
Daniel looked at Vincent.
Vincent took a slow drink of coffee.
“Apparently.”
Eli grabbed his schoolwork packet and left the kitchen with Bruno.
Temporary placement required educational assessment before school enrollment.
Vincent had hired a tutor.
Eli disliked her because she made him write complete sentences.
Daniel waited until the boy disappeared.
Then he placed the threatening photograph on the counter.
“Marcus showed me.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“And?”
“And I’m asking what you intend to do.”
“Protect him.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Vincent stood.
Daniel stepped closer.
“This adoption is already complicated. If you go back to being the version of Vincent Crowe who solved every problem through intimidation—”
“I didn’t say anything about intimidation.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Vincent turned toward the windows.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“You want to become that child’s father?”
“Yes.”
“Then start behaving like one.”
Vincent looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means fathers don’t get to indulge every dangerous instinct they have.”
Daniel pointed toward Eli’s room.
“They think about what remains after the anger is gone.”
Vincent said nothing.
“Call the police.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor has friends inside departments.”
“That’s an accusation.”
“It’s knowledge.”
“Then give the evidence to people you trust.”
Vincent stared at Daniel.
“You?”
Daniel nodded.
“Me.”
For the next week, Vincent did something he almost never did.
He followed someone else’s advice.
Marcus collected information legally.
Security footage.
Vehicle records.
Corporate links.
Payment trails.
Daniel contacted a federal investigator he trusted.
Claire was told only enough to understand that Eli might need additional protection.
Vincent hated every minute.
He wanted direct action.
Instead, he took Eli to school enrollment meetings.
He signed medical forms.
He learned the boy needed two vaccinations.
He bought lunchboxes.
Eli chose one with a cartoon shark.
Vincent thought it looked ridiculous.
Eli reminded him about the beanbag chair.
Vincent surrendered.
Every night, Eli asked the same question.
“Are you still going to be my dad forever?”
Every night Vincent answered.
“If the court allows it.”
Eli hated that answer.
One evening, he threw his spoon down.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“But what do you want?”
Vincent looked at him.
“You know what I want.”
“Say it.”
Vincent had negotiated billion-dollar contracts more comfortably.
He put down his fork.
“I want to be your father.”
“Forever?”
“Yes.”
Eli picked up the spoon.
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You interrupted dinner for that?”
“I needed to check.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Three days later, Claire arrived with another concern.
“Someone filed an objection.”
Vincent’s expression sharpened.
“To what?”
“Your temporary placement.”
“Who?”
“Anonymous complaint.”
“On what grounds?”
“Alleged exposure to organized crime.”
Daniel swore quietly.
Vincent remained still.
Claire continued.
“They included documents.”
“What documents?”
“Old photographs. Business records. Civil cases.”
Vincent knew exactly who had done it.
Victor.
“When is the review?”
“Friday.”
“That’s two days.”
“Yes.”
“Could Eli be removed?”
Claire hesitated.
Vincent stood.
“Could he?”
“Yes.”
The word changed the temperature in the room.
From the hallway came the sound of a toy car rolling across wood.
Vincent lowered his voice.
“He stays.”
“That is not entirely your decision.”
“He stays.”
Claire stepped closer.
“If you make this a fight against the system, you may lose him.”
Vincent’s jaw flexed.
“What do you suggest?”
“Be transparent.”
“That has never been one of my hobbies.”
“Make it one.”
Eli appeared carrying his stuffed shark.
“Lose who?”
Everyone froze.
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“You said lose him.”
The boy looked between the adults.
“Me?”
Vincent walked toward him.
“No one is losing you.”
“Then why is everybody making faces?”
Claire crouched beside him.
“Some adults have questions about whether Vincent’s home is the best place for you.”
Eli looked at her.
“It is.”
“I know you feel that way.”
“No.”
His voice became stronger.
“It is.”
Claire nodded.
“We’ll tell them.”
Eli turned toward Vincent.
“Do they think you’re bad?”
Vincent did not answer.
Eli stepped closer.
“Are you?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Claire remained silent.
Vincent could have lied.
He did not.
“I have done things I’m not proud of.”
“Did you hurt kids?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt Bruno?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt me?”
“Never.”
Eli considered this with the serious logic of a six-year-old.
“Then maybe you can stop doing the bad things.”
Vincent stared at him.
The simplicity of it was almost cruel.
Adults built excuses.
Children built choices.
Maybe you can stop.
That night Vincent opened files he had not reviewed in years.
Companies.
Contracts.
People whose loyalty had been bought by fear.
Deals he had technically kept legal while knowing exactly who would suffer.
He had spent decades telling himself he was not a criminal.
Maybe that was true.
But Eli had not asked whether he was technically innocent.
He had asked whether he could stop doing bad things.
At 11:30 p.m., Marcus arrived.
“We found Victor’s residence.”
Vincent closed the file.
“Where?”
“Hotel under another name.”
“Take me.”
Marcus didn’t move.
“Daniel said—”
“I’m not going to touch him.”
“You promise?”
Vincent stood.
“No.”
Marcus sighed.
They reached the hotel shortly after midnight.
Victor was not there.
But someone else was.
A young man ran from the service entrance when he saw Marcus.
Security caught him before he reached the street.
Vincent approached slowly.
The man was terrified.
“I don’t know anything.”
Vincent crouched.
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
“You delivered the envelope.”
The man’s eyes changed.
Vincent knew.
“Who paid you?”
“I can’t.”
Vincent said nothing.
That silence frightened him more than shouting would have.
“Victor.”
Marcus glanced at Vincent.
“Victor Soren?”
The man nodded.
“He said it was just a message.”
“What else?”
“Nothing.”
Vincent leaned closer.
“What else?”
The man swallowed.
“He said he wanted you distracted.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“Distracted from what?”
The man looked away.
Marcus grabbed his phone.
“Call the penthouse.”
Vincent was already calling.
No answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
Then the home security alert appeared on his screen.
SERVICE ELEVATOR ACCESS — UNAUTHORIZED.
Vincent was moving before Marcus finished reading.
They reached the car.
Vincent called Eli’s security detail.
No answer.
Then Bruno’s barking came through the penthouse camera audio.
Loud.
Furious.
A second later, the camera feed went black.
Vincent’s face lost all emotion.
Marcus drove.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Faster.”
The city blurred outside the windows.
For the first time since Eli had asked him to be a father, Vincent felt helpless.
And helplessness was far more frightening than anger.
May you like
Because somewhere fifty floors above the city, a six-year-old boy might be learning exactly why people had once warned Vincent never to love anything.
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