Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Thomas didn't sleep.
Neither did I.
By four in the morning, I was sitting in a guest room inside his Upper East Side townhouse, wearing borrowed sweatpants while two security teams searched for Marcus.
I hated every second.
Hated the waiting.
Hated the silence.
Hated knowing my little boy might be scared somewhere without me.
Thomas came into the room carrying coffee.
“I didn't ask for that.”
“No.”
He placed it beside me anyway.
“Any news?”
“Not yet.”
I looked away.
He sat across from me.
For the first time since I'd met him, he looked tired.
Not powerful.
Not dangerous.
Just tired.
“Tell me about your brother.”
His eyes lifted.
“His name was Gabriel.”
“Older?”
“By six years.”
“What happened?”
Thomas leaned back.
“Our father was brutal. Gabriel spent most of his life trying to keep that brutality away from me.”
Something softened in his voice.
“He was the first person who taught me how to drive. First person who took me to a baseball game. First person who told my father no.”
“What about my mother?”
“Elena worked in one of our legitimate companies. Accounting.”
I almost smiled.
“She always was good with numbers.”
Thomas nodded.
“Gabriel fell in love with her.”
“And your father?”
“Hated it.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena was poor. And because she knew too much.”
My chest tightened.
Thomas continued.
“Then money started disappearing from my father's accounts. He blamed Gabriel.”
“Was it him?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
He looked at me.
“Elena.”
I blinked.
“She stole from your family?”
“She moved money.”
“Why?”
“We never knew.”
I thought of the apartment we had when I was little.
Tiny.
Cold.
Sometimes no heat.
“That money didn't go to us.”
Thomas frowned.
“How sure are you?”
“Very.”
That seemed to bother him.
A knock came.
Vincent entered.
“We found something.”
I stood immediately.
“Marcus?”
“No.”
My heart fell.
“But we traced the call.”
“Where?”
“A prepaid phone activated near a property in Queens.”
Thomas's expression changed.
“What property?”
Vincent hesitated.
“An old Dinaro warehouse.”
Thomas stood.
“That building was sold twenty years ago.”
“On paper.”
I crossed my arms.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent looked at Thomas.
“The property is still controlled through a shell company.”
“Whose?”
Vincent handed him a folder.
Thomas read the first page.
His jaw tightened.
“Gabriel.”
My stomach dropped.
If Gabriel was alive, he had been planning something for decades.
Thomas looked at me.
“You're staying here.”
“No.”
“Jean.”
“No.”
“I won't take you into a warehouse where someone may have your son.”
“And I won't sit here while strangers search for him.”
His eyes hardened.
“This isn't a debate.”
“Then you're about to lose one.”
For several seconds, we glared at each other.
Vincent looked toward the ceiling.
Finally, Thomas sighed.
“You stay in the armored vehicle.”
I nodded.
“Fine.”
“And if I tell you to leave, you leave.”
“I'll consider it.”
“Jean.”
“Fine.”
The warehouse stood near the East River.
Dark.
Abandoned.
Police weren't involved.
Thomas's men entered first.
I stayed in the SUV for exactly four minutes.
Then I got out.
Vincent saw me.
“Mrs. Lewis—”
“Don't.”
He sighed.
“Boss is going to hate this.”
“Get in line.”
Inside, the warehouse smelled like rust and oil.
A single light burned in the back.
Thomas stood beneath it.
His body was rigid.
I approached.
“What?”
He pointed toward a chair.
Marcus's backpack sat on it.
I ran forward.
“Marcus!”
No answer.
I grabbed the backpack.
His favorite dinosaur keychain hung from the zipper.
My eyes filled with tears.
Then Thomas noticed something beneath the chair.
An envelope.
My name was written across it.
JEAN MARINO.
Not Lewis.
My mother's name.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Gabriel.
And a newborn baby.
Me.
On the back, someone had written:
She belongs to both families now.
My hands shook.
Thomas took the photo.
His expression changed.
Then we heard a sound behind us.
Slow applause.
A man stepped from the shadows.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
My mother's photograph in one hand.
Thomas whispered,
“Gabriel.”
The man smiled.
“Hello, little brother.”
Then he looked at me.
May you like
And his smile disappeared.
“Hello, daughter.”
