Chapter 6
I did not ask Gabriel in the courthouse.
I waited until Noah was asleep in the SUV, his head on Mrs. Morrison’s lap, his fingers wrapped around mine.
Then I looked at Gabriel.
“What did Derek mean?”
His face did not change.
That told me Derek had not been lying.
Mrs. Morrison closed her eyes.
“Gabriel,” she said softly.
I looked between them.
“What happened to the last maid?”
Gabriel stared out the window at the city sliding past us.
“Her name was Lena Ortiz.”
My stomach tightened.
“She worked for you?”
“For my mother,” he said. “Years ago.”
Mrs. Morrison opened her eyes.
“She was seventeen.”
I felt sick.
“What happened?”
Gabriel’s jaw moved once.
“She overheard something she should not have. Men loyal to my father accused her of stealing. She disappeared before I could get her out.”
“Disappeared?”
He looked at me then.
“I found her two weeks later.”
No one spoke.
Rain tapped the roof.
Noah breathed softly beside me.
Gabriel continued, “I was twenty-one. I had no power yet. My father did. I learned that day what silence costs.”
The air in the SUV felt heavy.
“And Derek knows this how?”
“Because Malden knows my history.”
Victor Malden again.
The rival boss.
The man Derek had been photographed with.
A message appeared on Gabriel’s phone.
He read it and passed it to Samuel in the front seat.
Samuel cursed.
“What?” I asked.
Gabriel said, “The stolen files are being leaked.”
My body went cold.
“Blaming me?”
“Not directly,” Samuel said. “Worse. They are leaking pieces that make it look like Gabriel paid Derek to abuse you, then used your injuries for blackmail against police.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“To reasonable people, no,” Samuel said. “To the press, it makes a headline.”
Gabriel’s phone rang again.
Then Samuel’s.
Then Mrs. Morrison’s.
The world was moving faster than truth.
By noon, my face was on local news.
Not my name yet.
Just “anonymous domestic worker tied to Ashford scandal.”
Derek’s lawyer released a statement calling him a decorated officer targeted by organized crime.
A photo of me entering Gabriel’s mansion appeared online.
A photo Derek must have taken.
Noah saw it on a waiting room television before I could stop him.
“Are we in trouble?” he whispered.
I turned the screen off.
“No.”
But trouble was everywhere.
Gabriel moved us to a safe apartment above a restaurant in the North End.
It smelled like garlic and old brick.
Mrs. Morrison said it belonged to someone loyal.
I no longer asked what loyal meant.
That evening, Samuel brought a woman named Rebecca Lane.
Federal prosecutor.
She wore no jewelry, carried two phones, and looked at Gabriel like he was both useful and dangerous.
“I don’t work for you,” she told him.
“I did not ask you to.”
“You never ask. You arrange.”
He smiled faintly.
She ignored him and turned to me.
“Miss Queen, I need to know if you’re willing to testify against Derek Lawson, Aaron Vale, and anyone involved in using you to steal protected evidence.”
My mouth went dry.
“If I testify, can you protect Noah?”
“We can try.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It is the truth.”
I liked her for that.
I hated her for it too.
Gabriel stood by the window.
“I can protect them.”
Rebecca snapped, “And make every defense attorney claim she is under mob influence?”
He said nothing.
She was right.
I was trapped between two kinds of power.
One legal and slow.
One illegal and immediate.
Neither guaranteed safety.
Noah woke from a nightmare at midnight.
He stumbled into the kitchen, crying for me.
I held him while Mrs. Morrison made cocoa.
Gabriel stood in the hallway, keeping distance.
Noah looked at him.
“Are you bad?”
Mrs. Morrison inhaled.
Gabriel did not move.
“Yes,” he said.
Noah blinked.
“At everything?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt Harper?”
“No.”
“Will you let Derek hurt her?”
“No.”
Noah thought about that.
“Then you’re not bad at everything.”
Gabriel looked away.
Something in his face cracked for one second.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number again.
This time, it was a video.
Derek sat in his car, face bruised from the courthouse struggle, smiling at the camera.
“Harper,” he said, “you always were stupid. You think Ashford saved you? He’s the reason your mother died.”
The room tilted.
My mother had died of cancer.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Derek leaned closer to the camera.
“Ask him about the hospital debt. Ask him who owned the clinic that denied her treatment.”
The video ended.
May you like
I looked at Gabriel.
His face had gone pale.
