Chapter 8 - The Name on the Forged Deed
Gabriel stopped moving.
The woman came downstairs slowly.
She was thirty-two.
Dark hair.
Dark eyes.
The resemblance was undeniable.
“Mia?” Gabriel whispered.
She nodded.
Gabriel’s face broke.
Not dramatically.
That would have been easier.
His mouth simply opened, and for a moment no sound came.
Mia knelt in front of his wheelchair.
“I thought you were dead.”
“So did I.”
Carmine had spent years keeping them apart.
Maria had hidden Mia after discovering the theft.
Gabriel remained with his father because moving both children would have alerted Carmine.
Then Maria disappeared.
Mia grew up under another name.
Claire Sullivan.
She had learned the truth only six months earlier.
Two weeks before Gabriel was shot.
She contacted him anonymously.
But her message never reached him.
Carmine intercepted it.
Suddenly the timing made sense.
Gabriel’s shooting was not only about control.
Carmine knew the siblings were close to finding each other.
Mia had something else.
The original trust documents.
Maria had left them with her adoptive parents.
They proved Carmine had no legal claim.
But before we could celebrate, Mia showed us one final page.
A clause.
If both beneficiaries died, Carmine became trustee.
Gabriel looked at her.
“He needs both of us dead.”
Mia nodded.
“And now he knows you found me.”
We returned to the estate under heavy security.
That night, Gabriel and I sat alone in his study.
“You should leave,” he said.
“No.”
“You almost died.”
“So did you.”
“This is my family.”
“Your uncle picked me as the fall guy before I even knew your name.”
He looked away.
I stepped closer.
“Stop deciding for everyone because you’re scared.”
His eyes snapped toward me.
“I’m not scared.”
“Sure.”
“Hannah.”
“You’re terrified.”
He grabbed the armrest.
“Of what?”
“Losing people.”
Silence.
I immediately regretted saying it.
Then Gabriel whispered, “Yes.”
All the anger left me.
He looked toward the bullet-damaged window.
“I woke after the shooting and couldn’t feel my legs. Everybody stood around my hospital bed talking about survival like I should be grateful for whatever was left.”
I sat beside him.
“You survived.”
“That isn’t the same as living.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“What changed?”
I smiled faintly.
“A very expensive coffee?”
He laughed.
Then he reached for my hand.
Slowly.
Giving me time to move away.
I did not.
His thumb brushed my knuckles.
“You make everything louder.”
“That doesn’t sound romantic.”
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
“Terrible recovery.”
His smile faded.
We were close enough that I could feel his breath.
Then Vincent burst through the door.
“We have a problem.”
Someone had filed the forged deed.
Legally, Carmine now controlled the estate itself.
A court order had also been submitted claiming Gabriel lacked capacity.
Attached were medical records documenting months of confusion, sedation, aggression, and cognitive decline.
All fabricated.
But signed by a physician.
The same physician who treated Gabriel after the shooting.
Dr. Adrian Locke.
Gabriel stared at the signature.
“He was in the operating room.”
Vincent nodded.
“And according to these records, he says the spinal injury caused neurological deterioration.”
“That’s nonsense,” I said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Gabriel replied. “Not initially.”
Carmine did not need to win forever.
Only long enough to freeze Gabriel’s accounts.
Take the company.
Control the estate.
And isolate him.
Then security called.
Three black SUVs were at the gate.
Court officers.
Lawyers.
And Carmine.
He had an order requiring Gabriel to surrender control pending evaluation.
Gabriel looked at me.
I picked up my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Recording everything.”
Carmine entered five minutes later.
He smiled when he saw me.
“Still here?”
“Hard to get rid of.”
His gaze shifted to Gabriel.
“The house belongs to the trust now.”
Gabriel smiled coldly.
“Then you’d better read the trust.”
For the first time, Carmine’s confidence slipped.
Mia walked into the room.
Carmine went white.
She placed the original document on the desk.
“I believe you’ve been looking for me.”
Carmine stared at her.
Then at Gabriel.
Then at me.
And he laughed.
“You think she’s Mia?”
Nobody moved.
Carmine reached into his briefcase.
He removed a birth certificate.
Then another.
He placed both beside Maria’s trust.
“One of those women is Maria’s daughter,” he said.
“What women?” I asked.
He smiled directly at me.
May you like
“You and her.”
And my mother’s name appeared on the second certificate...
