Chapter 4 - The Maid’s Secret
By four o’clock in the afternoon, the storm had engulfed Chicago in an eerie, premature darkness.
Gabriel’s SUV pulled back through the heavy wrought-iron gates of his Montecito-style estate on the outskirts of the city. The rain slammed against the stone facade, the wind howling through the ancient oaks surrounding the property.
Gabriel stepped out of the vehicle and immediately turned to his head of personal security, Viktor—a mountain of a man who had served in Gabriel’s personal vanguard since the early days.
“Viktor,” Gabriel said quietly as they walked under the portico. “Take two men. Escort Evan to the guest house on the north side of the estate. Tell him I want him to stay there until we review the Moretti filings tonight.”
Viktor frowned slightly, recognizing the subtle tactical phrasing. “Is he a guest, boss, or a package?”
“He’s a package,” Gabriel replied coldly. “Nobody goes in, nobody comes out. Confiscate all his phones and digital devices. Tell him it’s a security protocol due to Moretti threats.”
Viktor’s face hardened into stone. “Understood.”
Gabriel strode through the grand foyer, wiping the rain from his coat. He didn't head toward his study or the living areas. He walked straight back to the staff wing.
He knocked three times on the door of the staff sitting room.
The lock clicked, and Hannah opened the door slightly, her eyes wide with worry. When she saw Gabriel, she let out a long breath of relief and opened the door fully.
Inside, Lucy was still sitting at the small wooden table. She had finished her drawing—a picture of a big black house under a rainy sky, with a tiny silver key drawn in the center of the yard.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Rowan?” Hannah asked, her voice trembling.
“Everything is going to be fine, Hannah,” Gabriel said gently. He walked into the room and crouched down beside Lucy’s chair so he was at eye level with the young girl.
“Lucy,” Gabriel said, his dark eyes softening. “I need to ask you something very important. Think carefully before you answer.”
Lucy set her red crayon down and looked directly into his eyes. “Okay.”
“Have you seen Mr. Pierce—or Mr. Cross—near my study before today?”
Lucy nodded without hesitation. “Three days ago.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “Three days ago? What were they doing?”
“Mr. Cross was standing by the big clock in the hallway,” Lucy explained in her clear, innocent voice. “He was talking on his phone. He sounded mad. He said... he said the little girl wasn't going to be a problem, but he needed the blue key before Friday.”
Hannah gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, dear God...”
Gabriel felt an icy rage surge through his veins, but he kept his voice completely soft for Lucy. “Did he say anything else, sweetheart?”
“He said he had another key,” Lucy murmured. “He pulled something out of his pocket and looked at it. It looked just like the key I found today, but it didn't have the blue dot on it.”
Gabriel closed his eyes for a brief moment, the full horror of the plot becoming crystal clear.
Evan hadn't just hired Nolan to steal the restructuring folder. Evan had created a duplicate key weeks ago. But when Gabriel had unexpectedly updated the lock mechanism on his private vault two days ago—coating the new master key with a blue enamel dot to distinguish it from the old passkeys—Evan’s duplicate had become useless.
That was why Nolan had been sent to steal Gabriel’s personal blue key from the study while Gabriel was supposed to be on his way downtown.
They had been planning this for weeks. And if Lucy hadn't noticed Nolan’s squeaking shoe, Gabriel would have driven straight into Moretti’s trap while Evan wiped out his private vault and took control of Rowan Freight.
Gabriel reached out and gently laid his large hand on Lucy’s shoulder.
“Lucy,” Gabriel said softly, “you saved my life today. Do you know that?”
Lucy looked down at her small hands, then back up at the legendary man whom the rest of Chicago feared. “Are you going to send us away?”
“Never,” Gabriel said firmly, standing up and looking at Hannah. “Hannah, you and Lucy are moving into the main residence penthouse starting right now. Viktor’s team will guard your door twenty-four hours a day. You will have everything you need, and no one will ever touch a hair on your head.”
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Hannah’s eyes brimmed with tears as she clutched her hands together. “Mr. Rowan... I don't know how to thank you. We’re just housekeepers—”
“You’re not housekeepers anymore, Hannah,” Gabriel said, his voice echoing with absolute, unshakeable authority. “You’re family.”
