39. Gabby
Gabby
Lila’s nice. I like her. Nik told me enough about what she survived that I understand why he thought she might be the one person I could stand to have near me right now. I’d probably enjoy getting to know her even more if my world wasn’t collapsing around me. But I’m genuinely grateful she’s here.
I’m on the floor with my back against the bed frame and Luke’s stegosaurus in my lap. Lila sits beside me, close enough to let me know that I’m not alone.
Nikolai opens the door.
My stomach drops. I know from the way his jaw is set that whatever he’s about to say is going to split me in two.
“Gabby.”
I’m already pushing to my feet. My legs are unsteady, but I find my balance. Lila stands beside me, her hand firm against my back.
“Tell me,” I say.
He looks into my eyes, and I understand this is deliberate. He’s anchoring me before the impact.
“Matteo is alive.”
My knees buckle. Lila catches me from behind as Nikolai pulls me into his arms.
“No. I watched him die.”
Even as I say it, I know it’s true. Some part of me has feared it since that first rose.
“It wasn’t him.” Nikolai pulls back enough to look at me. “He had someone on the inside. He was warned, and someone else was in that car.”
Greg knew there was a leak. Did he know Matteo was alive?
“I don’t understand,” I mumble.
“He’s been in Italy,” Nikolai says. “He came to Vegas a few months ago and saw you.”
“The man at my table. The woman at the center. He’s been watching me the whole time. I led him straight to Luke.”
Luke looks just like his father. I used to hold his face in my hands when he was a baby and search desperately for myself in his features. But he’s all Matteo.
“Where is he, Nik? Where’s my baby?”
He pulls me into his arms and buries his face in my hair. “I’ll get him back, Gabby. I swear to you, I will bring him home.”
“I can’t…”
I can’t finish the sentence.
“Gabby, look at me.” I look up at him. “He’s coming home.”
I believe him. That terrifies me almost as much as everything else.
He stays for another moment, with one hand cupping my face. His thumb brushes once over my cheekbone. Then he steps back, and I watch something in him shift. The man who loves me retreats, and something colder and more purposeful takes over.
“Lila will stay with you,” he says.
Then he’s gone, and the room falls silent. I force myself to breathe. In through my nose. Out through my mouth.
“Do you want to sit?” Lila asks.
“No.” The answer comes too fast. I look around the room. “I don’t know what I want.”
“How old is he?” she asks after a while.
“Four.” My throat tightens. “He’ll be five soon.”
“Tell me about him.”
I open my mouth to give her the short version. Quiet. Sensitive.
“He’s extraordinary,” I say.
Lila smiles. “I cannot wait to meet him. I don’t know much about dinosaurs, but I love horses.”
“Yeah?”
“There were times in my life when the horses were the only thing keeping me together.”
I know enough about Lila’s past to understand what she means. Maybe one day, when Luke is home and the world isn’t falling apart, we’ll compare stories about surviving the men who were supposed to protect us.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you. For what they did to you and your mother.”
She looks at me, and I see old pain softened by happiness. “Maksim saved me. That’s the thing about these Sokolov men. They do not fuck around when it comes to protecting their family. I know you can trust him when he says he’ll bring Luke home.”
Tears spill from my eyes before I can stop them. “Thank you.”
“Nik cares about him,” I say. “He created an amazing sensory room for Luke. He has some special needs, and Nik takes them in stride. He never makes him feel different.”
“Really? I’d love to see it.”
I’m suddenly not sure I can go into the room. It’s a reminder Luke isn’t here.
“Sure.”
And then it dawns on me that I need to call Greg. He might have information.
“Actually, I need to grab my phone,” I say.
I hurry to my room. I don’t have to hide the phone anymore because Nik knows. For one second, I feel a sense of relief, then I remember that Matteo is alive and Luke is gone.
I grab the burner phone from the drawer, where I stashed it. My hands shake so badly that I nearly drop it twice. Lila appears in the doorway and leans against the frame, giving me space without leaving.
I pull up the only contact saved in the phone.
It rings once.
Twice.
A third time.
That’s not right. Greg always answers by the second ring.
The call connects.
I wait for the familiar, Hey, sweetheart.
My heart beats a little faster. I say nothing. That’s the rule. Wait for confirmation it’s him, just in case.
“Hello?” The voice is unfamiliar. Male, but not Greg.
My heart stutters.
“Where’s Greg?” I ask carefully.
“Can I ask who’s calling?”
“A friend. Where is Greg?”
A long pause. “What’s your name?”
My grip tightens around the phone. “Gabby Collins.”
“Your real name.”
I close my eyes. “Gabriella Castellano.”
Papers shuffle on the other end.
“Ma’am, I’m Agent Wallace. I have Greg’s phone. He told me you might call. I’m sorry to have to tell you this over the phone.”
I shake my head as if that will stop the next words from coming. I know. I feel it before he says another word.
I sink to my knees.
"Greg Jones was killed this afternoon."
The air leaves the room, and I double over. Lila kneels beside me, rubbing my back.
"No."
"I'm sorry, but it's true."
"How? Who?"
He clears his throat. “We’re still confirming, but everything points to the Castellano organization. Someone started digging into the old cases connected to your cooperation. Greg knew too much. Whoever is behind this decided he was a loose end they couldn’t leave alive.”
"Because of me," I whisper.
"Because of what he knew. Not because of you."
It doesn't feel like a distinction that matters.
"He was protecting me," I say.
"Yes." A pause. “He cared about you. He told me to take care of you if anything happened.”
A sob breaks loose from my throat. That was Greg. Carrying so much and never saying a word. I kept piling my problems onto him, and he never once complained.
“No one else knows about this number or that you might call,” he says. “Greg swore me to secrecy. I don’t know where you are or what’s happening there, but I’m here if you need me.”
"Thank you."
I hang up and drop the phone. Lila wraps her arms around me, and the last little piece of me still holding it together finally breaks.
“What happened, Gabby?”
“Greg is dead.” The words leave me hollow. “He was the federal agent who helped Luke and me disappear and kept us safe all these years. He was the closest thing I had to a father.”
She doesn’t say she’s sorry, or fill the silence with kind words that can’t fix this. She just holds me like she’s the only thing keeping me together.
I think about my son, who never got to meet the man who kept him safe all these years. Greg and I always talked about the day they would meet.
And now, he’ll never meet the man I wanted him to know as Grandpa.
“Let’s go get something to drink,” Lila suggests after I’ve sobbed myself dry.
I let her help me to my feet. We go to the kitchen, where Irina is making cookies. It’s almost midnight.
“I bake when I’m worried,” she says. “Luke’s favorite.”
My eyes burn all over again. This household has adopted my son. Guilt twists through the relief, but I’m so glad I’m not doing this alone.
I manage to eat one cookie. Nikolai’s voice carries down the hall, sharp with fury. I think that’s new for everyone. He doesn’t express his anger much. Doesn’t loudly express any emotion. But now, he’s raging. Tonight, I need every ounce of that rage aimed at the man who took my son.
“It’s probably best to give him space to handle this,” I tell Lila. “Come with me.”
We leave the kitchen and head to Luke’s playroom. I open the door and stand there, taking it all in. Lila slips in and looks around. “Wow, this is incredible.”
I nod. “It is. Luke is very lucky.”
He barely got a chance to enjoy the room Nikolai created just for him. I pick up one of the squish balls and squeeze it.
The thought hits me so hard that I stumble backward. “Oh no,” I whisper.
“What is it?” Lila asks. “What’s wrong?”
Matteo will look at his son and see everything that is wrong with him.
My breathing turns shallow and fast. I think I’m going to faint. I can feel it happening in slow motion.
“Nikolai!” Lila shouts. It sounds like she’s underwater.
I’m lowered onto something soft, but my mind is flooded with everything that could go wrong.
Luke doesn’t make eye contact on command.
He doesn’t shake hands, answer when spoken to, or respond to his name the first or even the second time.
He needs his routine, and the right amount of ketchup and mayo with his chicken nuggets. He won’t eat if the food is wrong.
Matteo won’t see a scared child. He’ll see a defective heir.
He’ll see it as disobedience. A personal insult. I know first-hand how he deals with disobedience.
Nikolai is there when my eyes focus. He’s cradling me in his arms.
“Matteo is like your father.” My throat feels like it’s closing, and I can’t get the words out. “Luke will never be the heir he wants.”
I see understanding spark in his eyes.
Nikolai spent his childhood being told he was broken. He felt his father’s wrath for not being like his brothers. Nikolai survived it, but at what cost? I can’t let my child go through that. I cannot allow my son to feel like his differences make him unlovable. Unwanted.
I see a man who was built for love but has spent his entire life believing he didn’t deserve it because one man decided that different meant lesser.
I will not let that happen to my son.
Nikolai’s hand is on my face, and his eyes are flashing with anger and pain. “Luke will never feel unwanted or unloved. And when he comes home, no one will ever make him believe there is something wrong with him.”
I want to believe him.
I do believe him.
For the first time in five years, I stop trying to save Luke alone.
I put my son’s life in Nikolai’s hands.