“Three months,” Hannah repeated, barely above a whisper. “Lily and I have been living here for three months.”
Gabriel did not move.
His penthouse occupied nearly twenty thousand square feet above Manhattan, guarded by cameras, private security, biometric elevators and employees whose backgrounds were investigated before they were allowed near his floor.
Yet a woman and an infant had apparently been sleeping beneath his roof without his knowledge.
“Where?”
Hannah lowered her eyes. “The old service room behind the laundry storage.”
Gabriel knew the space. Barely. It had once housed overnight staff before the penthouse renovation.
“Show me.”
Hannah hesitated, but Gabriel was already walking.
Lily remained against his chest.
When Hannah opened the concealed service door, Gabriel stopped.
A thin mattress lay on the floor. Baby clothes were folded inside a cardboard box. Formula sat beside an electric kettle. Hannah’s work uniforms hung from a pipe.
There were no toys except a stuffed rabbit whose ear had been stitched back on.
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“You work for me.”
“Yes.”
“I pay you.”
“Yes.”
“So why are you living in a storage room?”
Hannah looked at Lily.
“My husband died eleven months ago. He left debts I didn’t know existed. I lost our apartment. The shelter wouldn’t let me keep my work schedule, and if I lost this job…” Her voice weakened. “I thought this was safer than sleeping in my car.”
Gabriel studied her.
“You said not to call the police.”
Hannah went still.
That reaction told him more than her words had.
“This isn’t about trespassing.”
“No.”
“Who are you hiding from?”
Before Hannah could answer, Gabriel’s phone vibrated.
His security chief.
“Sir,” Vincent said, “we have a problem downstairs.”
Gabriel’s eyes remained on Hannah. “What kind?”
“A man is asking for Hannah Price.”
Every trace of color disappeared from her face.
“What man?” Gabriel asked.
There was a pause.
“He says his name is Dominic Vale.”
Gabriel’s grip around Lily instinctively tightened.
He knew that name.
Dominic Vale worked for the Bellandi organization—the one family reckless enough to believe Gabriel’s territory could be challenged.
Hannah whispered, “He found us.”
Gabriel ended the call.
“Why does Bellandi want you?”
Tears slid down Hannah’s cheeks.
“Not me.”
She looked at the sleeping baby in Gabriel’s arms.
“Her.”
Silence filled the tiny room.
Gabriel slowly looked down at Lily.
“Why?”
Hannah opened her mouth.
Then three sharp knocks echoed from the penthouse’s main entrance.
Not the elevator.
The private entrance.
Someone had already made it past downstairs security.
Gabriel’s expression changed instantly.
Hannah saw it and backed toward her daughter.
“Give her to me.”
But Gabriel didn’t.
Instead, he removed his jacket, wrapped it around Lily, and handed Hannah his phone.
“Take the service elevator to the underground garage. Vincent will meet you.”
“What about you?”
Gabriel turned toward the hallway.
For the first time, Hannah saw the man everyone else in New York feared.
“Nobody comes into my home hunting a child.”
Then his private office phone began ringing.
Gabriel stopped.
Only six people knew that number.
He answered.
A distorted voice said seven words.
“Ask Hannah who Lily’s father really was.”
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