Chapter 2
I looked at Claire while Cross’s voice stayed in my ear.
Rain hammered the windows.
The alarm screamed through the safe house.
Outside, my men shouted orders.
Inside, Claire held my nephew like the world had narrowed to his breathing.
“What do you mean?” I asked Cross.
He laughed.
“You still think she is just your quiet little accountant?”
My jaw tightened.
“Say what you called to say.”
“She has something that belongs to me.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“What did she take?”
Cross’s voice dropped.
“The file your brother died for.”
Then the line went dead.
Mason looked at me.
“Boss?”
“Lock the house.”
“Already done.”
“No one leaves. No one enters. And find where that call came from.”
Mason moved fast.
I turned back to Claire.
“What file?”
She closed her eyes.
Her face was too pale.
The doctor had said she needed stitches, scans, sleep.
I needed answers.
I hated myself for needing them from her.
“Claire.”
She looked at Eli.
“I didn’t know what it was at first.”
“What?”
“At Reynolds. The acquisition.”
My mind snapped into place.
Reynolds Holdings had been a quiet purchase.
A clean one.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Claire swallowed.
“I found a hidden ledger in their archive. Payments from Reynolds to Cross companies. Shell transfers. Old insurance settlements. One account name kept repeating.”
“Nathan.”
She nodded.
“My brother?”
“No. Grace.”
My hand tightened around the birth certificate.
“What does Grace have to do with Reynolds?”
“Grace’s father owned part of Reynolds through Whitmore Capital. After he died, his shares moved into a family trust. Then Grace married Nathan.”
I knew some of that.
Nathan had never cared about Grace’s money.
He loved her with the kind of foolish joy I used to mock because I envied it.
Claire continued.
“After Nathan and Grace died, those shares should have transferred to Eli. But someone buried the amendment.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
A crash sounded outside.
Mason shouted, “Back window!”
I stepped toward the door.
Claire grabbed my wrist.
Her hand was cold.
“There is more.”
“There is always more.”
She flinched at my tone.
I softened instantly.
“What else?”
“I copied the ledger before the ambush. I hid the drive.”
“Where?”
She looked down.
Eli’s tiny fingers were still caught in her shirt.
“In his blanket.”
My breath stopped.
The baby in her arms had carried the evidence through the warehouse, the chase, the rain.
I reached slowly toward the blanket.
Claire did not stop me.
Inside the stitched edge, I felt a small hard shape.
A microdrive.
Mason stepped back into the room.
“Three men at the rear fence. We have them pinned.”
“Alive,” I said.
He stared.
“Boss?”
“I want names.”
He nodded and left.
Claire’s eyes searched my face.
“You believe me?”
“I believe evidence.”
Pain crossed her face.
I hated that I had put it there.
Then she whispered, “Then you should know the evidence names someone inside your house.”
“My house?”
“Your organization.”
That landed worse.
My enemies were supposed to stand in front of me.
I built my life around knowing where danger came from.
Claire looked toward the door.
“I heard Cross say the baby would never have left the convoy if the route had not been changed.”
Only three people knew the route.
Me.
Mason.
And my aunt Vivienne.
My father’s younger sister.
The woman who raised Nathan and me after our mother died.
The woman who had held Eli at the funeral and sobbed into his blanket.
I stepped back.
“No.”
Claire’s eyes filled with sorrow.
“I’m sorry.”
“You are hurt and exhausted.”
“I heard him.”
“My aunt would never.”
“Gabriel.”
The way she said my name stopped me.
Not Mr. Kane.
Not boss.
Gabriel.
“She called the warehouse,” Claire said. “Cross answered, ‘Vivienne, the baby is alive.’”
The room tilted.
I wanted to deny it.
I wanted to call Claire mistaken.
I wanted to choose the easier lie.
Then Eli stirred and opened his eyes.
He looked at me with Nathan’s dark lashes and Grace’s soft mouth.
Claire kissed his forehead.
“He was so quiet,” she whispered. “In the truck. Like he knew.”
I reached for him.
Then stopped.
“May I?”
Claire studied me.
Then she nodded.
I lifted Eli carefully.
He was warm, heavy, alive.
His tiny fist pressed against my shirt.
Something in me cracked open.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.
Claire tried to sit up and winced.
The doctor rushed in from the hall.
“She needs treatment now.”
I nodded.
But before the doctor touched her, Claire grabbed my sleeve again.
“Gabriel, there is one more thing.”
“What?”
“The men in the warehouse kept saying the accountant was not supposed to survive.”
“Why?”
She looked at the microdrive in my hand.
“Because I saw a second baby there.”
My blood went cold.
May you like
“What second baby?”
“A little girl,” Claire whispered. “Maybe eight months old. They called her Rose.”
