Chapter 10 - THE BODYGUARD WHO BETRAYED US
Gabriel didn't threaten Adrian.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Victor.
“Where is she?”
Adrian's gun trembled.
“What?”
“Your daughter.”
Adrian stared.
Gabriel repeated,
“Where is she?”
Victor laughed.
“Don't bother.”
Gabriel ignored him.
“Adrian.”
“Private clinic in Vermont.”
“How old?”
“Sixteen.”
“What condition?”
“Kidney failure.”
My stomach dropped.
Gabriel understood immediately.
Victor wasn't holding her with a gun.
He controlled treatment.
Money.
Access.
Hope.
The same way he controlled Serena through Lucia.
Adrian whispered,
“He said if I stopped reporting to him, she'd be removed from the transplant program.”
Gabriel looked at Victor.
“You use sick women and children because grown men won't follow you willingly.”
Victor's face tightened.
Then Gabriel looked back at Adrian.
“Your daughter is safe.”
Adrian blinked.
“What?”
“Daniel?”
Daniel reached into his pocket.
“Already confirmed.”
He showed Adrian a message.
Federal agents had moved his daughter to another hospital.
Adrian's gun slowly lowered.
Victor's smile disappeared.
“You fool.”
Adrian turned the gun toward him.
“No.”
Victor laughed.
“You think they'll forgive you?”
Adrian looked at Gabriel.
“I don't expect forgiveness.”
Gabriel nodded once.
“Good.”
Then chaos erupted.
Victor fired.
Adrian tackled him.
Gabriel pulled us behind the dining table.
Elena grabbed Noah.
Daniel and Miriam moved from the hallway.
Federal agents entered through the front.
Three shots.
A crash.
Then silence.
Victor lay on the floor.
Alive.
Handcuffed.
Bleeding from one shoulder.
Adrian sat against the wall, a bullet through his arm.
Gabriel stood over his father.
Victor looked up.
“You think this makes you better than me?”
Gabriel stared at him.
“No.”
Victor smiled.
“Good.”
Gabriel continued.
“My choices do.”
The smile vanished.
They took Victor away.
No execution.
No revenge.
No disappearing body.
He would stand trial.
And for a man like Victor Cross, public accountability was probably worse.
Hours later, we sat in a quiet federal safe house.
All three boys were asleep in one room.
Noah refused to let go of Gabriel's hand until he fell asleep.
Gabriel stayed beside him for an hour.
When he finally came into the kitchen, he looked exhausted.
“Coffee?”
I poured him one.
He stared at it.
“You remembered.”
“Black. No sugar.”
His mouth curved.
“You always hated that.”
“Still do.”
He leaned against the counter.
For a while, we said nothing.
Then I whispered,
“I'm sorry.”
His eyes lifted.
“For what?”
“Five years.”
He understood.
“Claire.”
“I took them from you.”
“You believed I chose Serena.”
“I should've told you.”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt.
Then he continued.
“And I should have trusted you enough to tell you why I wanted the divorce.”
Silence.
“We both made choices out of fear.”
“Yes.”
I looked toward the bedroom.
“They paid for them.”
Gabriel's eyes filled with pain.
“That ends now.”
I believed him.
Then he pulled something from his pocket.
A folded document.
“What is that?”
“Our original divorce filing.”
I stared.
“You carry it?”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
“My attorney found something.”
He opened it.
One page had a signature.
Mine.
Another.
His.
Then a certification section.
Blank.
I frowned.
“What?”
Gabriel's expression became strange.
“The divorce was never finalized.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Serena delivered the documents to my attorney.”
Of course.
“She never filed the final decree.”
My heart hammered.
“Then legally…”
May you like
Gabriel looked at me.
“We're still married.”
