Chapter 1 - The Baby Who Chose the Wrong Man
Gabriel Marlowe had ordered grown men out of Manhattan with one phone call.
He had ended partnerships with a sentence, destroyed careers with a nod, and once made an armed man lower his weapon simply by looking at him across a restaurant table.
But at 10:17 on a Tuesday morning, the most feared man in his corner of New York opened his office door and found an eight-month-old baby sitting on the floor.
And for the first time in twenty years, Gabriel Marlowe had absolutely no idea what to do.
The child stared up at him beneath the crystal chandelier outside his private office.
She wore a faded pink onesie. One sock was missing. Dark curls stuck out wildly around her tiny face, and two new teeth showed when she smiled.
Gabriel stared back.
Ten minutes earlier, he had been finalizing a deal worth more money than most families would see in ten generations.
His instructions had been clear.
No interruptions.
No staff.
No deliveries.
No one near the fourteenth-floor office until his video conference was finished.
Yet during the last few minutes of the call, Gabriel had heard an odd dragging sound outside the door.
Scrape.
Pause.
Scrape.
He had assumed someone on the household staff was about to lose a job.
Instead, he had found her.
The baby slapped one palm against the marble.
Then she crawled toward him.
Gabriel actually stepped backward.
He could face prosecutors, rival crews, furious businessmen, and men who came to meetings with guns hidden beneath expensive jackets.
Babies were different.
Babies were unpredictable.
Babies screamed.
They leaked things.
They grabbed things.
Most importantly, they trusted people without first determining whether those people deserved it.
The child reached his polished black shoe and sat down.
Then she lifted both arms.
Gabriel looked behind him as though there might be another adult standing there.
There wasn't.
The baby made a soft impatient sound.
"Absolutely not," Gabriel murmured.
She kept her arms raised.
"I don't know how."
She smiled.
It was ridiculous.
He knew she could not understand him.
Still, he found himself kneeling.
"You're making a serious error in judgment, kid."
He slid his hands carefully beneath her arms.
She came up against his chest with complete confidence.
Gabriel froze.
The baby rested her cheek against his shoulder.
One tiny fist closed around his gray silk tie.
That was it.
No screaming.
No fear.
No hesitation.
She simply relaxed against the most dangerous man in the building as though she had spent all morning searching for him.
Gabriel felt something strange move beneath his ribs.
Before he could identify it, running footsteps struck the hallway.
A woman rounded the corner.
Hannah Price stopped so suddenly she nearly slipped.
Gabriel knew her, technically.
She had worked in his penthouse for almost three years.
She arrived every weekday morning a few minutes after seven. She cleaned, did laundry, managed deliveries, stocked the kitchen, and disappeared before evening meetings began.
That was what he knew about her.
Until that moment, he wasn't sure he had ever seen her outside her navy work uniform.
Now her face had gone white.
"Oh God."
Her eyes locked on the baby.
Then on Gabriel.
Then on his tie trapped in the baby's fist.
"Mr. Marlowe, I'm sorry."
Her voice broke.
Gabriel said nothing.
"I only went to the restroom for two minutes. She was asleep. I thought she was asleep. I came back and she was gone and—"
Hannah pressed both hands over her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes.
"I'll leave."
Gabriel's brow tightened.
She was already backing away.
"I'll pack everything. You don't have to pay me for today. I understand. Please, just don't call anyone until we're gone."
"Call anyone?"
She swallowed.
"Security. The police. Whoever you call when someone breaks your rules."
Gabriel looked at the child sleeping against his shoulder.
Then back at Hannah.
"How long?"
Hannah's expression collapsed.
"Three months."
He thought he had misunderstood.
"What?"
"She's three months old."
Gabriel looked down at the baby.
"She's eight months."
Hannah blinked.
"I meant... I've had her for three months."
Silence.
Gabriel's eyes sharpened.
"You've had her for three months?"
Hannah nodded.
"I couldn't leave her alone anymore."
"Why?"
"Because her father is dead."
The answer was too quick.
Too practiced.
Gabriel knew lies.
He had spent his life listening to them.
But Hannah's wasn't a lie.
It was a wound.
"What is her name?"
Hannah hesitated.
"Emma."
Gabriel looked down.
Emma had released his tie and was now fascinated by one of the buttons on his shirt.
"Emma what?"
"Emma Price."
"Your daughter?"
Hannah nodded.
"Yes."
Gabriel looked at her uniform.
Then the baby.
Then the expensive marble corridor.
"You brought your child into my residence without telling me."
"I know."
"You concealed her."
"I know."
"Why?"
"Because I needed the job."
The words came out quietly.
"My rent was overdue. The hospital bills were piling up. My old employer fired me when she found out I had a baby. I didn't have anyone else."
Gabriel said nothing.
Hannah continued.
"I knew you didn't allow children in the penthouse. I knew you didn't like staff bringing family here. I knew if I told you, I'd lose the only job that paid enough to keep us alive."
Gabriel looked at Emma.
"Where did she sleep?"
"In the laundry room."
His expression hardened.
"Excuse me?"
"I brought a small travel crib."
Hannah's eyes filled again.
"She only slept there while I worked. I swear. I never brought her into your private rooms. I kept her quiet."
Gabriel stared at her.
The laundry room.
His laundry room was larger than the apartment where Hannah and Emma lived.
He suddenly felt ashamed of how little he knew about the woman who had been cleaning his home for three years.
Then Emma yawned.
Gabriel looked down.
The tiny girl grabbed his tie again.
"She likes you," Hannah whispered.
Gabriel's mouth tightened.
"She has questionable taste."
Hannah almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
"Please don't fire me."
Gabriel looked at her.
"I haven't decided."
Hannah nodded.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A man stepped out.
Gabriel's head turned.
It was Matteo Rizzo, his head of security.
Matteo stopped when he saw the baby.
His eyebrows rose.
"Boss."
Gabriel said nothing.
Matteo looked at Hannah.
Then at the baby.
Then back at Gabriel.
"Do you want me to call someone?"
Gabriel's voice became cold.
"No."
Matteo understood immediately.
"Yes, Boss."
Gabriel carried Emma into his office.
Hannah followed nervously.
He placed the baby on the leather sofa.
Emma immediately rolled onto her stomach and crawled toward the edge.
Gabriel caught her before she fell.
"Apparently you require constant supervision."
Emma laughed.
Gabriel stared.
He had heard that sound only once in his adult life.
His younger sister had laughed like that before she died.
For a moment, the office disappeared.
He was twenty-two again.
His sister Lucia was eight.
Their father was still alive.
Their family had not yet become a name whispered in dark rooms.
Then the memory vanished.
Gabriel looked at Emma.
Something had changed.
Not enough to make him gentle.
Not enough to make him trust.
But enough to make him curious.
"Who is her father?"
Hannah went still.
"My husband."
"Name?"
"Daniel Price."
Gabriel watched her carefully.
"How did he die?"
"He worked at the harbor."
"Doing what?"
"Security."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
"What company?"
Hannah shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You don't know where your husband worked?"
"He never talked about it."
"Why?"
"He said it was safer."
Gabriel leaned back.
"Safer from what?"
Hannah's face changed.
"I don't know."
The answer bothered him.
A dead harbor security worker.
A hidden baby.
A woman terrified of losing her job.
Gabriel reached for his phone.
"Matteo."
The door opened immediately.
"Yes?"
"Run Daniel Price."
Matteo's expression changed.
"Price?"
"That's what I said."
"Any particular reason?"
Gabriel looked toward Emma.
"Find out who her father was."
Matteo nodded.
"Understood."
Hannah stared.
"Mr. Marlowe, you don't have to."
Gabriel looked at her.
"I know."
"Then why?"
He paused.
"I don't like unanswered questions."
Matteo left.
Hannah remained silent.
Gabriel sat across from her.
"You'll keep working."
Her eyes widened.
"What?"
"You'll keep working."
"Thank you."
"However, Emma will not sleep in the laundry room again."
Hannah stared at him.
"I'll find somewhere else."
"You'll use the guest room."
"No."
Gabriel's eyebrow lifted.
"No?"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because this isn't my home."
Gabriel looked around his office.
"No. It isn't."
Then he looked at Emma.
"But it is hers for tonight."
Hannah's eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you."
Gabriel stood.
"Don't thank me yet."
She looked confused.
He walked toward the window.
"Something about this doesn't make sense."
"What?"
"Your husband."
Hannah's face went pale.
Gabriel turned.
"Until I know why a dead harbor security guard left you afraid of everyone, you and the baby stay here."
"You can't keep us here."
"No."
His eyes hardened.
"I'm protecting you."
Hannah stared at him.
"From whom?"
Gabriel's phone rang.
Matteo.
He answered.
"What?"
There was silence.
Gabriel's face changed.
"Say that again."
Matteo repeated himself.
Gabriel looked at Hannah.
"You're sure?"
Another pause.
"Yes."
Gabriel ended the call.
Hannah stood.
"What happened?"
Gabriel's eyes were no longer on her.
They were on Emma.
"Your husband wasn't a security guard."
Hannah stopped breathing.
"He was an informant."
The room went silent.
"And someone has been searching for you."
May you like
Gabriel looked at the baby.
"They found you."
