Chapter 2 - The Crimson LedgerThe private elevator of the Cross Tower roared upward, slicing through forty floors of steel and glass in mere seconds.
Inside the mahogany-paneled car, the silence was heavy enough to crush bone.
Gabriel stood near the control panel, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the digital floor numbers climbing toward the penthouse office. Claire sat on the leather bench opposite him, flanked by her three sons, who had managed to calm down slightly after being bribed with miniature cheesecakes from the gala’s catering kitchen.
The boys were currently asleep or half-drowsing against Claire’s shoulders, completely indifferent to the fact that they had just detonated their father’s carefully constructed universe.
Gabriel unlocked the heavy double doors of his penthouse office and threw them open.
“Inside,” he commanded.
Claire guided the boys toward the sprawling leather sofa near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the neon expanse of Manhattan. She settled them in, pulling a lightweight cashmere throw over their small bodies before turning to face Gabriel, who had already poured himself a double measure of un-aged bourbon.
He didn't offer her a drink. He didn't need to.
“Five years,” Gabriel said, his back to her as he stared out at the glittering skyline. “You lived in Westchester? Manhattan? Where?”
“Boston for the first two years,” Claire said calmly, leaning against the back of the sofa, keeping a protective hand resting on Leo’s ankle. “Then London. Then back to Manhattan. We were never hard to find, Gabriel—if you had ever actually looked. But you were too busy building shipping terminals and playing house with Serena Vale.”
Gabriel turned sharply, the ice in his glass clinking violently. “Serena is a public relations asset. She means nothing.”
“She meant enough for you to throw away a marriage without a second conversation,” Claire countered, her voice ice-cold. “And now it doesn't matter what she means. Because my life has nothing to do with yours anymore.”
“Your life has everything to do with mine now, Claire,” Gabriel growled, stepping closer, the raw, dominant presence that terrified his rivals radiating off him in waves. “You think you can hide three heirs to the Cross name? You think you can keep my bloodline away from me in secret?”
“Your bloodline?” Claire let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Is that what they are to you? Assets? Inventory to be cataloged and brought into the family business? Look at them, Gabriel! They aren't shipping contracts. They’re little boys who like paper airplanes, dinosaur books, and chocolate milk. They don't need the Cross family enemies, the death threats, or the men who come to your back door after midnight!”
Gabriel froze.
The air left his lungs.
“How do you know about that?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“I lived with you for four years, Gabriel,” Claire said, standing up to face him eye-to-eye, unflinching. “I cleaned blood off your shirt cuffs in the laundry room. I listened to phone calls in the middle of the night about dock strikes and warehouse fires. Do you honestly think I was ever stupid enough to let my children anywhere near that world?”
Before Gabriel could reply, the secure intercom on his mahogany desk chimed with a sharp, frantic tone.
Gabriel hit the speakerphone.
“Boss,” Dante’s voice crackled through the secure line—raw, urgent, and breathless. “We have a major problem. The harbor shipments from Antwerp have been intercepted. And... and there’s a message left at Pier 44.”
Gabriel’s eyes locked onto Claire’s.
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“What kind of message?” Gabriel demanded.
“It’s a red ledger, Boss,” Dante said grimly. “They know about the boys. Someone tracked Claire and the kids to the gala tonight. They’re using them to hit us where we’re weakest.”
