Chapter 3 - Under the Crystal Chandeliers
The silence between Gabriel and me stretched on for an eternity, thick and suffocating, completely ignoring the swirling vortex of Manhattan's elite gala around us.
Serena Vale stepped up beside Gabriel, her manicured fingers resting possessively on the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. Her eyes darted from my face down to the triplets, her carefully sculpted features twisting into a mix of utter shock and incandescent rage.
"Gabriel," Serena hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "What is she talking about? Who are these brats?"
Gabriel didn't look at her. He didn't blink. His dark, piercing gaze remained locked on my face, searching for a lie, a joke, anything to anchor him back to the reality he thought he understood.
"They're five," Gabriel said slowly, doing the brutal arithmetic in his head. "We divorced five years ago. You left the estate in March. That means..." He stopped, his breath catching in his throat. "You were pregnant when you walked out."
"I found out two weeks after I signed the papers," I replied, my voice completely devoid of warmth. "You were already moving Serena into the Westchester house. I didn't think you'd want a distraction from your new life."
"A distraction?" Gabriel’s voice rose, a dangerous, suppressed fury vibrating beneath his calm exterior. He took a sharp step forward, towering over me. "You kept my children from me for five years, Claire? You hid my flesh and blood across the river while I spent half a decade wondering where the hell you went?"
"You didn't wonder very hard, Gabriel," I retorted, lifting my chin fearlessly. "You had Serena, your billions, and your empire. You didn't miss me, and you certainly didn't need heirs born from a discarded wife."
"Gabriel, make them leave!" Serena shrieked, her voice cutting through the quiet tension, drawing the uncomfortable attention of several nearby socialites. "This is a charity gala! Some pathetic scam artist trying to stake a claim on your fortune! Call security and throw them out!"
Gabriel raised his left hand without turning his head. A single, imperceptible flick of his fingers.
Instantly, three massive, black-suited security enforcers materialized out of the crowd, blocking Serena from stepping any closer. They knew their boss; they knew that look in his eye. It was the look he wore before ordering a warehouse burned to the ground.
Serena gasped, stepping back in horror. "Gabriel? What are you doing?"
"Shut up, Serena," Gabriel murmured quietly. It wasn't a shout. It was a death sentence to any further argument.
He turned his full, terrifying attention back to my sons.
Julian, Leo, and Mason shrank back slightly behind my silk skirt, sensing the immense, dark gravity radiating from the strange man standing before them.
Then, the smallest twin—Leo, who possessed the sharpest tongue in our household—looked up at Gabriel, tilting his head with innocent, piercing curiosity.
He asked the one question I had spent five years dreading every single day of my life.
"Are you our dad?"
Gabriel’s face crumbled.
The impenetrable mafia boss, the man who had survived assassins, federal indictments, and corporate bloodbaths, looked as though he had been physically shattered into a million pieces. He dropped heavily to one knee on the pristine marble floor, ignoring the dampness of the spilled champagne nearby, bringing himself eye-level with my three boys.
May you like
His large, calloused hands trembled uncontrollably as he reached out, hovering just an inch away from Julian’s small shoulder, terrified that if he touched them, they might dissolve like mist.
"Yes," Gabriel whispered, his voice cracking violently. "Yes, little ones... I’m your dad."
