Chapter 6 - THE GHOST IN THE GARDEN
The words hung in the air, heavier than the smoke billowing from the burning cottage.
Special Agent.
I stared at the man I had slept next to for six years, the man who had helped me pick out Lucy’s first pair of shoes.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, pulling my hand away from his.
“Sarah, please,” Daniel pleaded, trying to sit up, but groaning in pain. “I had to lie to protect you.”
“You died!” I screamed, hitting his chest with my fists. “I buried you! Lucy cried for you every single night!”
Dante stepped forward, pulling me gently away from Daniel.
Gabriel was staring at the blueprints in his hands, his mind rapidly putting the pieces together.
“If you’re FBI,” Gabriel said, his voice dangerously low, “why did Margaret Whitaker confess to poisoning you?”
Daniel coughed, wiping soot from his mouth. “Because she thought she did.”
We all froze.
“Nicholas’s drug running was small-time,” Daniel explained, grimacing as he shifted his broken leg. “My real target was the Bellini family. Vanessa’s father. They were using the Moretti shipping lines to launder millions for the cartel.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. He looked at Vanessa, who was now weeping silently in Dante’s grip.
“When Margaret threatened to poison me to protect Nicholas,” Daniel continued, “my handler saw an opportunity. The cartel had put a hit out on me. I was getting too close to Vanessa’s father. So, we let Margaret think she succeeded.”
“You faked your own death,” Gabriel said flatly.
“My handler provided a drug that mimics cardiac arrest,” Daniel nodded. “Margaret spiked my coffee. I drank it, collapsed in the garden, and let her find me. By the time the ambulance arrived, my agency took over the body. It was the only way to go deep underground and finish building the case against the Bellinis.”
“And you left us behind,” I sobbed, the betrayal cutting deeper than grief ever could. “You left me to raise our daughter alone in the house of a mafia boss!”
“I left you under Gabriel’s protection!” Daniel argued, looking desperately at Gabriel. “I knew Gabriel was trying to take the Moretti family legitimate. I knew he wouldn't let anything happen to a widow and a child under his roof.”
Gabriel looked at me, then back at Daniel.
“You used my mother’s guilt,” Gabriel realized. “You knew my mother would feel responsible for your ‘death’ and keep Sarah on staff.”
“It kept her safe,” Daniel insisted. “The cartel thought I was dead. They never came looking for my family.”
“And the money?” I demanded, pointing to the burning cottage. “The fifty thousand dollars Nicholas gave you?”
“It was never drug money,” Daniel confessed. “It was Bureau funds. I hid it under the floorboards for you, Sarah. An emergency fund, in case you ever needed to run.”
I felt physically sick. My entire marriage, my husband’s death, my life for the past four years—it was all a carefully constructed lie.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Firetrucks and police cruisers were tearing up the long driveway toward the estate.
Gabriel closed the leather folder containing the bank blueprints and handed it to Dante.
“Put her in the car,” Gabriel ordered, pointing at Vanessa. “When the police arrive, hand her over with the forged property agreement. The FBI can deal with the rest.”
Vanessa didn't even fight. She looked completely defeated as Dante marched her away.
Gabriel turned back to Daniel.
“You’ve been hiding in that cottage for four years?” Gabriel asked.
“No,” Daniel said. “I’ve been in Miami, building the case. I only came back tonight because my handler told me Vanessa was trying to sell the cottage land to her father. I knew the emergency money and my backup evidence were still under the floorboards. I sneaked in to retrieve them before the demolition started.”
“And Vanessa crashed her car into the living room while you were inside,” Gabriel finished.
Daniel nodded. “If she hadn't, I would have slipped out the back window and you never would have known I was here.”
He looked at me, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “I was going to come for you, Sarah. The indictments against the Bellinis drop tomorrow morning. It was finally over. I was coming home.”
I took a step back, shaking my head. “You don't have a home anymore, Daniel.”
Daniel’s face shattered. “Sarah—”
“You let our daughter believe her father was dead,” I cried, my voice raw. “You let me work as a maid to survive. You don't get to just walk back in and claim us.”
Before Daniel could respond, paramedics rushed onto the lawn, dropping their trauma bags beside him.
I turned away, unable to look at him as they loaded him onto a stretcher.
Gabriel placed a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Come on,” Gabriel said softly. “Let’s go get Lucy.”
We walked back toward the mansion in silence, the flashing red and blue lights painting the manicured lawns in chaotic colors.
When we reached Rosa’s sitting room, Lucy was fast asleep on the velvet sofa, her head resting in Rosa’s lap.
The elderly matriarch looked up at us, her eyes wide with unasked questions.
Gabriel walked over and gently scooped Lucy into his arms. The little girl mumbled in her sleep, resting her head against Gabriel’s broad shoulder.
He looked at his mother. “It’s over, Mom. Margaret is going to a care facility. Nicholas is going to rehab. And Vanessa is going to prison.”
Rosa let out a long, shuddering breath. “And Daniel?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Daniel is dead,” I said, my voice empty.
Gabriel nodded once. He adjusted Lucy in his arms.
“My driver is waiting out front, Sarah,” Gabriel said. “He’s going to take you and Lucy to my penthouse in the city. You’ll be safe there.”
I looked at the powerful man holding my daughter so gently.
“Mr. Moretti, I can't keep working for you after this,” I whispered.
Gabriel smiled, a genuine, warm expression I had rarely seen.
“You aren't going there to work, Sarah,” Gabriel said. He reached into his pocket and handed me a small, heavy object.
May you like
It was the velvet box containing his grandmother’s antique diamond ring.
“You’re going there to start over,” Gabriel promised.
