Chapter 8 - THE FATHER GABRIEL HAD WORSHIPPED
Antonio DeLuca did not order Luca’s death.
That distinction mattered.
It took months of investigation to establish.
The payments had been for something else.
Silence.
Antonio discovered the pension theft before Luca did.
Sebastian’s father paid him to stay out of it.
Antonio accepted.
Three times.
Why?
Because DeLuca businesses depended on dock access controlled through Voss and Whitmore intermediaries.
Antonio chose stability.
Money.
Power.
Then Luca found out.
Father and son fought.
Luca began gathering evidence.
Antonio tried to stop him.
Not through violence.
Through loyalty.
This is family business.
You’ll destroy everything.
Think of Gabriel.
The same old language.
When Luca died, Antonio realized what his silence had helped create.
He started cooperating secretly with a state investigator.
Before anything came of it, he died from a stroke three years later.
Not murder.
Not every death required conspiracy.
Sometimes guilt simply arrived too late.
Gabriel sat with the final report.
Rose sat across from him.
Months had passed since the wedding escape.
They were not engaged.
They were not living together.
They had dinner sometimes.
Walked along the river.
Argued about business.
Nothing more.
Not yet.
Gabriel tapped his father’s name.
“I spent twenty years trying to become him.”
Rose asked:
“Which version?”
He looked up.
“Exactly.”
The public fallout was enormous.
Whitmore Shipping disclosed historic pension misconduct.
The company entered negotiated restitution arrangements and regulatory supervision.
Profits collapsed.
Some lenders fled.
Rose sold two nonessential port leases to preserve payroll and fund repayments.
Commentators called her inexperienced.
Some called her courageous.
She ignored both.
Evelyn Park became CEO.
Rose remained controlling shareholder and board chair.
That surprised Richard most when he heard through his lawyer.
He assumed Rose would become CEO herself.
She didn't.
“Why?” Gabriel asked.
“Because Evelyn knows the job better.”
“Your father would hate that.”
“Bonus.”
Margaret moved into her own apartment.
After twenty-eight years married to Richard, she filed for divorce.
She began therapy.
Volunteered at Saint Agnes.
Not as some perfect redemption arc.
Sometimes she canceled because leaving the house still scared her.
Sometimes she called Rose three times a day.
Healing was inconvenient.
Richard pleaded guilty to several financial crimes and obstruction charges as part of a broader agreement requiring full testimony.
His cooperation reduced his sentence.
Rose did not object.
She also did not visit him.
Sebastian fought everything.
Eventually prosecutors secured convictions tied to fraud, arson conspiracy, witness tampering and financial crimes.
The old Pier 19 case could not produce a murder conviction for Luca.
Evidence showed Sebastian helped plan the fire, but not that he knew Luca was inside when it began.
Gabriel hated that.
Then accepted it.
Legal truth did not always match emotional truth.
The city pension fund recovered part of the stolen assets through settlements involving Whitmore, Voss entities and DeLuca companies.
Gabriel surrendered property worth millions.
One lieutenant told him:
“You're giving away Luca's inheritance.”
Gabriel replied:
“No.”
He looked at the restitution documents.
“I’m returning Luca’s evidence.”
That ended the argument.
He also began dismantling the parts of the DeLuca organization that depended on extortion, illegal lending and political leverage.
Not overnight.
Not magically.
Some businesses closed.
Some became legitimate.
Some partners left.
One called Gabriel soft.
Cole laughed when he heard.
“Want me to handle him?”
Gabriel looked at him.
Cole raised both hands.
“Joke.”
“Needs work.”
“Everybody is ethical now. Exhausting.”
Rose heard about it and laughed.
Their first actual date happened eight months after the wedding that never happened.
Rose chose the restaurant.
Small Italian place.
Public.
No private room.
No bodyguards at the table.
Cole sat in a car three blocks away and complained by text.
Gabriel showed Rose.
She smiled.
“He’s dramatic.”
“He thinks you ruined me.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
Gabriel put down his wine.
“You made it harder for me to lie to myself.”
Rose’s smile faded.
“That’s not romantic.”
“It is for me.”
“Terrible.”
He laughed.
After dinner, they walked.
At the corner, Gabriel stopped.
“Can I kiss you?”
Rose looked at him.
The man she had once climbed out a third-floor window to escape.
He understood the significance.
“If I say no?”
“I call Cole and complain.”
She smiled.
“Then go home.”
“That too.”
Rose stepped closer.
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Once.
Gentle.
Then stepped back.
She appreciated the step back almost as much as the kiss.
“Gabriel.”
“Yes?”
“I am never becoming Mrs. DeLuca because someone signs a contract.”
“I know.”
“If this becomes serious—”
“It already is.”
She glared.
“Do not interrupt the terms.”
He smiled.
“Sorry.”
“If this becomes permanent, I keep Whitmore.”
“Your name?”
“Yes.”
“Company?”
“Also yes.”
“Fine.”
“No automatic business merger.”
“Fine.”
“Separate attorneys.”
“Absolutely.”
“No debt contracts involving relatives.”
“Rose.”
“Important.”
“Fine.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
Then Gabriel asked:
“My term?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You get one.”
“If you ever want to leave, tell me before using a third-floor window.”
Rose laughed so loudly pedestrians turned.
“Maybe.”
“Terrifying woman.”
“You watched me run.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“At first?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel thought.
“Curiosity.”
“And later?”
He looked at her.
“Because I realized catching you wasn't the same thing as being chosen.”
Rose said nothing.
Then took his hand.
May you like
Her choice.
That was enough.
