Chapter 5 - The Man in the Charcoal Coat
Gabriel Rossi was forty-one years old.
He owned more businesses than I could count.
And according to newspaper articles, his name had appeared in investigations involving organized crime for nearly two decades.
I searched everything I could find.
Old interviews.
Court reports.
Business profiles.
Photographs.
The more I read, the more I wondered why a man like him cared about a small café in Brooklyn.
---
When he returned the following night, I asked.
"How did you know my father?"
Gabriel rested his hands around the coffee cup.
"Daniel helped me when I was twenty-six."
"With what?"
He considered.
"I was angry. My younger brother had been killed during a dispute. I wanted revenge."
I felt cold.
Gabriel continued.
"I came here because I didn't want anyone connected to my family seeing me upset."
"Dad served you coffee?"
"Yes."
I smiled faintly.
"Sounds familiar."
Gabriel looked down.
"He asked me what my brother would want."
"What did you say?"
"I told him my brother would want justice."
Gabriel paused.
"Your father asked whether I wanted justice or simply another funeral."
I swallowed.
"That sounds like him too."
Gabriel nodded.
"He made me wait until morning before doing anything."
I studied him.
"Did you listen?"
"That night, yes."
The answer was honest.
It didn't pretend Gabriel had become harmless.
It acknowledged that one good decision hadn't erased the rest of his life.
---
I looked toward the window.
"Did Dad know what you did?"
"Yes."
"And he still served you?"
"He didn't excuse me. He simply believed a person could choose differently tomorrow."
I smiled sadly.
"He was annoyingly hopeful."
Gabriel laughed.
"Very."
---
The following day, Chelsea appeared upstairs carrying one of my suitcases.
I stopped in the doorway.
"What are you doing?"
"Mom says you need to move out."
I stared.
"Why?"
"You're causing trouble."
She tossed my clothes onto the bed.
"You've been sneaking around with that lawyer."
My stomach tightened.
"How do you know?"
Chelsea smiled.
"Mom has friends."
I took the suitcase from her.
"Get out."
She blinked.
"What?"
"This is my room. Don't touch my things."
Her expression hardened.
"You don't own this place."
"That's exactly what we're going to find out."
---
Chelsea left.
But that evening, Maureen handed me a written notice demanding that I vacate the apartment within three days.
Rebecca immediately reviewed it and explained that lawful occupancy procedures applied regardless of Maureen's threats.
I wasn't required to obey an arbitrary deadline simply because she was angry.
Still, I felt frightened.
I had never lived anywhere else.
The café was my father's.
My childhood.
My home.
---
That night, Gabriel noticed I was quiet.
He set down his coffee.
"What happened?"
I considered lying.
Then told him.
He listened.
When I finished, he asked, "What do you want to do?"
The question surprised me.
Most powerful people in my life simply told me what would happen next.
"I want to stay long enough to find out whether Maureen has any right to remove me."
Gabriel nodded.
"Then work with Rebecca."
I looked at him.
"You're not going to buy the building?"
His mouth curved.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't ask me to."
I stared.
He continued.
"And because buying your problem away would mean making you dependent on another person who owns everything."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I smiled.
"You're learning, Gabriel."
May you like
He laughed.
"From a very good teacher."
