Chapter 2 - The Billionaire Who Knew My Mother's Name
If you're wondering whether I immediately fell in love with Gabriel Costa after he defended me, the answer is no.
I was too busy trying to understand why a billionaire had just announced our engagement without asking me.
Preston stood frozen beside the wine-soaked carpet.
His friends had stopped laughing.
Even the blonde woman looked ready to abandon him.
Gabriel continued holding my hand.
"Apologize," he told Preston.
Preston swallowed.
"Mr. Costa, I didn't realize—"
"To her."
Preston turned toward me.
His jaw tightened.
"Alice, I'm sorry."
I stared at him.
Two years.
He had vanished with our savings two years earlier.
He hadn't apologized then.
He hadn't even answered my calls.
Now, one sentence from Gabriel had accomplished what hundreds of my messages couldn't.
I looked directly at Preston.
"You're not sorry."
His face reddened.
"Excuse me?"
"You're frightened."
Gabriel's mouth moved slightly.
Not quite a smile.
Preston glanced around the room.
"I think we should all calm down."
Gabriel looked toward one of his security guards.
"Escort Mr. Reed out."
"Sir!"
"And his guests."
Two guards approached.
Preston looked at me with naked hatred.
"This isn't over, Alice."
Gabriel stepped between us.
"You're right."
His voice lowered.
"It isn't."
The guards led Preston away.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, my legs were shaking.
The ballroom slowly resumed its conversations.
People whispered.
Several guests were looking at me as though I had suddenly transformed from furniture into royalty.
Gabriel released my hand.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"My pride took a beating. My knees will survive."
He studied me.
Then he nodded toward a nearby private lounge.
"May we talk?"
I crossed my arms.
"About our wedding?"
One of his guards coughed.
Gabriel actually smiled.
"Fair question."
I looked toward Hector.
He immediately looked away.
Typical.
"Fine," I said. "Five minutes."
Gabriel led me into a quiet lounge overlooking the Hudson River.
Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the lights of Manhattan.
A fire burned beneath a marble mantel.
The room probably cost more than my apartment.
Gabriel closed the door.
I turned toward him.
"Who are you?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"You know my name."
"Then why did you tell everyone we're getting married?"
He slipped one hand into his pocket.
"Because Preston Reed responds to power."
"So you decided to invent a relationship?"
"Yes."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"And I owe you an apology for that."
That surprised me.
Men like Preston never apologized.
Men like Hector apologized only when their jobs depended on it.
Gabriel Costa was the first powerful man I'd met who seemed willing to admit he'd crossed a line.
"Then apologize."
He looked directly at me.
"I'm sorry, Alice. I should have asked."
I nodded.
"Good."
He gestured toward a chair.
"Please sit."
"I'd rather stand."
"As you wish."
He walked toward a mahogany desk.
Opened a drawer.
And removed a yellowed photograph.
He placed it in front of me.
I looked down.
My breath stopped.
The photograph showed a much younger Gabriel standing beside an older man.
Between them stood a smiling woman with chestnut hair.
My mother.
Nora Hayes.
I grabbed the photograph.
"Where did you get this?"
Gabriel's expression softened.
"Your mother worked with my father."
I looked up.
"My mother cleaned offices."
"Before that."
I shook my head.
"No."
"She never told you about Harbor House?"
The name meant nothing.
Gabriel watched my face.
Then he sighed.
"She really kept it from you."
"Kept what?"
He sat opposite me.
"Twenty-five years ago, my father and your mother purchased an old shipping warehouse in Brooklyn."
I stared.
"My mother could barely afford groceries."
"Not when they bought it."
He slid a document across the desk.
I looked at the heading.
HARBORLIGHT PROPERTY PARTNERSHIP.
My mother's signature appeared near the bottom.
NORA E. HAYES.
I recognized her handwriting immediately.
My fingers trembled.
"What is this?"
"A partnership agreement."
"For what?"
"A waterfront property."
I looked at Gabriel.
"Why are you showing me this?"
He hesitated.
"Because your mother owned thirty-seven percent of it."
The room tilted.
I gripped the desk.
"That's impossible."
Gabriel shook his head.
"It's documented."
"Then why did she die with unpaid medical bills?"
His expression changed.
"Because someone convinced her that her ownership had been extinguished."
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
"It means someone may have stolen an extraordinary amount of money from your family."
I looked down at the photograph.
My mother was smiling.
She looked healthy.
Happy.
Nothing like the exhausted woman I'd cared for during her final illness.
"How much money?"
Gabriel was silent.
"Tell me."
He took a breath.
"The property is currently valued at approximately forty-eight million dollars."
I dropped the photograph.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Forty-eight million.
My mother had died in a rented hospital bed.
I had sold her jewelry to pay for the funeral.
I had worked double shifts.
Skipped meals.
Begged landlords for extensions.
And somewhere in Brooklyn, a property supposedly belonging partly to my family was worth millions.
"Why are you telling me now?"
Gabriel looked toward the window.
"Because someone's attempting to sell Harbor House."
"Who?"
He hesitated.
Then he turned back.
"Preston Reed."
I stared at him.
My ex-boyfriend.
The man who had stolen our savings.
The man who had forced me to kneel in front of strangers.
Gabriel continued.
"The sale requires approval from seventy-five percent of the ownership interests."
He pointed toward the document.
"My father left me forty percent. Another investor owns twenty-three."
"And my mother?"
"Thirty-seven."
I slowly understood.
"They need her shares."
"They need your shares, Alice."
My hands went cold.
Gabriel removed another document.
A transfer authorization.
It contained my name.
My address.
And my signature.
I stared at it.
I hadn't signed it.
I would have remembered signing away a share of a waterfront property.
"That's not mine."
Gabriel nodded.
"I know."
"How?"
He placed a second paper beside it.
A copy of an old apartment lease.
I recognized the handwriting.
Preston had helped me fill out that lease three years earlier.
The signatures looked almost identical.
Gabriel leaned forward.
"Someone copied your signature from a document Preston already possessed."
My throat tightened.
"He's trying to steal my inheritance."
"Yes."
I looked at Gabriel.
"Then why pretend we're engaged?"
He hesitated.
"Because Preston's employers believe you don't know what you own."
"And?"
"They've been looking for you."
I stared.
Gabriel's expression hardened.
"Alice, the confrontation tonight wasn't an accident."
He slid one final photograph across the desk.
It showed my apartment building.
Taken from across the street.
The date was yesterday.
May you like
And standing beside the entrance was a man I recognized.
One of Preston's friends from the ballroom.
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