I did not sleep after hearing Gabriel say my father’s name.
At seven the next morning, I walked downstairs expecting answers.
Instead, I found Gabriel at the far end of a long dining table, reading documents beside a cup of black coffee.
Sunlight struggled through gray clouds outside.
The storm had passed, but the bay remained dark.
Gabriel didn’t look up.
“You didn’t sleep.”
Neither had he, apparently.
The shadows beneath his eyes made him look older than thirty-eight.
“You knew my father.”
His hand stopped above the page.
I remained standing.
“You said his name last night.”
Silence.
“Who was he to you?”
Gabriel finally folded the document.
“Sit.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You seem less frightened this morning.”
“I’m still frightened.”
“Good.”
“That’s a strange thing to say.”
“Fear keeps people alive when curiosity tries to kill them.”
“That sounds like something criminals tell themselves.”
For the first time, the corner of Gabriel’s mouth almost moved.
Almost.
“Sit, Nora.”
I sat at the chair farthest from him.
Rosa appeared with eggs, toast, coffee, and fruit.
My instinct was immediate.
I took one piece of toast.
Nothing else.
Gabriel watched.
“You’re losing weight.”
“I eat.”
“You eat like someone expects the food to be taken away.”
My fingers tightened around the toast.
He noticed.
“I’m not criticizing you.”
“My own family sold me to you.”
I looked directly at him.
“Forgive me for not feeling secure.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Then Gabriel stood.
He left the room without explanation.
I stared after him.
Minutes later he returned carrying a narrow wooden box.
From it, he removed an old photograph.
He placed it before me.
My world stopped.
My father stood in the picture.
He looked younger.
Maybe thirty-five.
Beside him stood a younger Gabriel Costa.
Behind them glowed the gold entrance of a casino.
The Golden Room.
My father’s arm rested across Gabriel’s shoulder.
Both men were smiling.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen my father smile like that.
My fingers trembled as I touched the edge.
“Where did you get this?”
“He gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
My eyes dropped to my father’s wrist.
A silver watch.
The same watch I had placed inside his coffin.
I turned the photograph over.
Six words were written across the back.
If I die, protect my daughter.
The room became silent.
I read the words again.
And again.
My father’s handwriting.
I would have recognized it anywhere.
“You knew him?”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“He saved my life.”
I looked up sharply.
“How?”
“Your father worked as a financial auditor for one of my family’s legitimate companies.”
“That’s not what he told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That he did corporate accounting.”
“He did.”
“That doesn’t explain why he knew you.”
Gabriel leaned against the table.
“Your father discovered that someone was stealing money through the Golden Room casino. Millions. He could have ignored it.”
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
A faint sadness entered Gabriel’s voice.
“David Miller never ignored something simply because ignoring it was safer.”
That sounded exactly like him.
“What happened?”
“Someone tried to kill me.”
My breathing slowed.
Gabriel looked toward the windows.
“I was twenty-seven. Arrogant. I believed knowing someone planned to betray you was the same as being prepared for betrayal.”
His expression hardened.
“I was wrong.”
He told me my father had overheard two men arranging an ambush.
Instead of going home, David had driven across the city to warn Gabriel.
The attack still happened.
But Gabriel survived because my father arrived first.
“One bullet hit him,” Gabriel said.
My eyes widened.
“My father was shot?”
“Shoulder.”
“He never told me.”
“He didn’t want you involved in my world.”
“Then why did he stay connected to you?”
“Because he believed the person stealing from my family was dangerous beyond money.”
Gabriel placed another photograph before me.
This one had been taken outside a hospital.
The date printed on the bottom made my heart stop.
The night my father died.
Diane stood beside a man in a dark coat.
They appeared to be exchanging something.
“Who is he?”
“Victor Hale.”
The name meant nothing to me.
Gabriel continued.
“He was one of my father’s financial advisers.”
“Was?”
“He disappeared two days after David died.”
Cold spread through me.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying your father’s death may not have been natural.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“No.”
“Nora—”
“No.”
Anger rose from somewhere deeper than fear.
“You don’t get to tell me that.”
His expression remained calm.
“I know.”
“You knew him. You had this photograph. You had his warning. And you waited three years?”
“I believed the hospital report.”
“So did I!”
My voice cracked.
“But I was his daughter. I didn’t have people investigating things for me.”
Gabriel absorbed the accusation.
“Why didn’t you come for me?”
The question left me shaking.
“Why didn’t you check on me?”
His silence answered before his words did.
“I thought Diane was taking care of you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Congratulations. Everybody did.”
Gabriel looked down.
For the first time since meeting him, he looked ashamed.
That almost made me angrier.
He moved another photograph toward me.
Diane outside the hospital.
Victor beside her.
“She didn’t sell you because she needed money,” Gabriel said.
“Then why?”
“Someone has been paying Diane for nearly three years.”
My stomach tightened.
“To do what?”
“We don’t know.”
“You just said she sold me.”
“She staged a debt with one of my casinos.”
“What?”
“The gambling losses were real. But they were deliberately increased until she believed she had only one way out.”
“You arranged it?”
“No.”
That answer came fast.
“I discovered it two weeks ago.”
“Who arranged it?”
“We’re tracing the payments.”
I remembered Diane insisting I come with her that night.
Remembered how strangely calm she seemed.
Remembered Chloe’s impatience.
“She wanted me here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Gabriel glanced toward the east side of the estate.
My mind returned to his warning.
Stay out of the east wing.
“Because your father hid something in this house before he died.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“We don’t know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“He told me there was evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Something he believed could destroy the person betraying both our families.”
The phrase bothered me.
“Both our families?”
Gabriel said nothing.
“Why would anyone think I know where it is?”
“Because shortly before your father died, he said only one person would understand where to look.”
“Me.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I don’t understand anything.”
“You may understand more than you realize.”
I walked to the window.
The black water below struck the rocks.
Memories of my father came rapidly.
Sunday pancakes.
Old jazz records.
His obsession with crossword puzzles.
The wooden sailboat model we built when I was nine.
His habit of hiding birthday gifts behind clues.
“Your father liked puzzles,” Gabriel said behind me.
I turned.
“How do you know?”
“He once made me solve three riddles before telling me where he’d hidden financial records.”
Despite everything, a laugh almost escaped me.
“That sounds like him.”
Gabriel’s expression softened.
“He talked about you constantly.”
The words broke something open inside me.
I turned back toward the window before he could see my eyes fill.
“What did he say?”
“That you were smarter than him.”
I smiled through tears.
“He said that whenever he wanted me to do his taxes.”
Gabriel almost smiled.
For a moment, the feared crime boss disappeared.
He became simply a man who had known my father.
That was more dangerous emotionally than anything else.
“What’s in the east wing?”
I asked.
Gabriel’s face closed again.
“Rooms your father used while helping me audit records.”
“And you think he hid something there.”
“Yes.”
“Then let me search.”
“No.”
I turned sharply.
“You said I may be the only person who can find it.”
“And someone deliberately placed you inside this house.”
“So?”
“So they may expect you to search.”
Understanding came slowly.
“I’m bait.”
Gabriel’s gaze hardened.
“No.”
“That’s exactly what I am.”
“You’re under my protection.”
“Because my father asked?”
“Yes.”
“Or because you need me to find whatever he hid?”
Silence.
That silence hurt.
“Which one?”
Gabriel walked toward me.
He stopped several feet away.
“Both were true when you arrived.”
My chest tightened.
“And now?”
His eyes held mine.
“Now I’m beginning to understand why David was willing to get shot for you.”
I didn’t know how to answer that.
Neither did he, apparently.
He stepped back.
That afternoon, Gabriel assigned a woman named Elena to show me the estate.
Library.
Kitchen.
Gardens.
Gym.
Guest rooms.
Everywhere except the east wing.
The east corridor remained behind two heavy wooden doors.
Locked.
At least, I thought they were.
Until almost midnight.
I was returning from the library when I heard a click.
The east-wing door opened.
A figure emerged.
Not Gabriel.
One of his men.
Marcus.
I had seen him standing beside the SUV the night before.
He closed the door quietly.
Then turned.
He saw me.
For one second, neither of us spoke.
Marcus smiled.
It was the first friendly expression I had seen from him.
“You should be asleep.”
“What were you doing in there?”
“Security check.”
“At midnight?”
“Security doesn’t keep office hours.”
He walked past me.
Something fell from his pocket.
A small brass key.
He didn’t notice.
I waited until his footsteps disappeared.
Then picked it up.
A number was engraved into the metal.
214.
My heart stopped.
214.
February 14.
My birthday.
A number my father used for almost everything when I was a child.
I looked at the locked east-wing door.
Then back at the key.
And for the first time, I wondered whether my father had left the next clue not for Gabriel—
but for me.
---