Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Andrew Whitaker read the anonymous envelope twice.
Then a third time.
The photographs were spread across the black marble desk in his study: Sophie walking through the gates of his estate, Mason asleep in Andrew’s arms, Noah being carried by one of his security men, and Hannah standing beside a man in a gray suit.
A man Andrew had watched lowered into the ground eight years earlier.
Gabriel Voss.
Andrew’s oldest enemy.
Officially, Voss had died in a warehouse fire after a failed deal between rival criminal organizations. Andrew had attended the funeral because every major figure in Milwaukee’s underground had attended. The coffin had been closed, but Andrew had seen the death certificate, the police reports, and the ashes recovered from the building.
Gabriel Voss was dead.
He had to be.
Yet there he was in the photograph, standing beside Hannah Carter outside what looked like a train station. The image had been taken only six months earlier.
Andrew’s jaw tightened.
Across the room, Marcus Hale—his head of security and the closest thing Andrew had to a brother—studied the photographs in silence.
“You think it’s real?” Marcus asked.
Andrew held the picture up to the light.
“The scar on his left hand is real. He got it when he was nineteen.”
Marcus swore under his breath.
“So Voss is alive.”
“Or someone wants me to believe he is.”
“And Hannah?”
Andrew looked toward the estate’s tall windows.
Outside, Sophie was sitting on the back patio with the twins. She had arranged Mason and Noah in matching blue sweaters on a blanket while she tried to teach them the names of birds.
“Robin,” Sophie said proudly.
Mason laughed and slapped both hands against the blanket.
“No, Mason, not ‘baba.’ Robin.”
Andrew watched her small face grow serious with concentration.
For months, Sophie had lived under his roof with Hannah and the twins while Hannah recovered from pneumonia and a severe autoimmune condition that doctors said had gone untreated for too long. Andrew had hired nurses, specialists, therapists, and teachers. He had built a nursery beside Sophie’s new bedroom. He had filled the estate with the sound of crying babies, tiny footsteps, cartoon songs, and arguments over bedtime.
The mansion had never felt less like a fortress.
And Andrew had never felt more vulnerable.
“Get me everything we have on Hannah Carter,” he said.
Marcus hesitated.
“You want me to investigate her?”
“I want to know whether the woman I promised to protect is connected to a man who once tried to kill me.”
Marcus nodded. “Understood.”
Andrew put the photo down.
“But discreetly,” he added. “No one scares her. No one questions Sophie. And nobody touches those children.”
Marcus’s expression softened just slightly.
“Of course.”
---
Hannah found Andrew in the library that night.
She had gotten stronger over the last few months, but illness still showed in the delicate pallor of her face. Her chestnut hair was tied loosely behind her neck, and she wore one of the simple cream sweaters Flora, Andrew’s housekeeper, had bought for her.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said.
Andrew closed the book he had not been reading.
“I’ve been working.”
“You don’t work in the library at midnight.”
He looked at her.
She had never been afraid of him—not truly.
At first, she had distrusted him. She had every right to. Andrew had appeared in her life with money, guards, black SUVs, and a reputation that could make judges hesitate before saying his name aloud.
But Hannah had also seen him sit beside Sophie during nightmares. She had watched him walk Mason through colic at three in the morning because the nanny had caught the flu. She had seen him pretend not to understand how to change Noah’s diaper, only to do it perfectly once everyone left the room.
She knew there was more to him than the city’s rumors.
That made this harder.
“I need to ask you something,” Andrew said.
Hannah’s gaze sharpened. “That usually means I’m not going to like the question.”
He slid the photograph across the desk.
She picked it up.
The color drained from her face.
“Where did you get this?”
“So you know him.”
Hannah looked up slowly.
“Yes.”
Andrew’s voice remained calm, but every word carried weight.
“Who is he?”
“He was my husband.”
The answer struck like a blade.
Andrew stood.
“Your husband?”
“His name was Daniel Carter.”
Andrew stared at her.
“Gabriel Voss’s name was Gabriel Voss.”
“No,” Hannah said quietly. “That was the name he used after he disappeared.”
The room seemed to narrow around them.
Hannah’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
“I met Daniel when I was twenty-two. He was charming, funny, protective. He said he worked in shipping. I believed him because I wanted to believe him.”
Andrew said nothing.
“He disappeared when Sophie was three,” Hannah continued. “One day he came home terrified. He told me we had to leave Milwaukee. He packed bags. He burned documents. Then he kissed Sophie goodnight and told me he would be back before morning.”
Her voice cracked.
“He never came back.”
Andrew leaned against the desk.
“Did you know what he was involved in?”
“No.” Hannah looked directly at him. “Not until later.”
“What happened later?”
“A man came to my apartment. He said Daniel had died in a fire. He said if I wanted Sophie to stay safe, I should never ask questions.”
Andrew’s chest went cold.
“Who was the man?”
“I don’t know. But he wore a silver ring with a black wolf on it.”
Marcus had seen that ring before.
It was the symbol of Gabriel Voss’s inner circle.
Andrew turned away.
“So Sophie did find me by accident,” Hannah whispered. “Didn’t she?”
Andrew did not answer.
Because he no longer knew.
---
The next morning, Sophie disappeared.
Her bed was empty.
The twins were still asleep in the nursery. Hannah was downstairs with the doctor. The guards at the gate had seen no one leave.
Andrew found Sophie in the chapel at the far edge of the estate.
She sat in the front pew, holding a crumpled drawing in her lap.
It showed four stick figures: Sophie, Hannah, Mason, and Noah.
Beside them stood a tall black figure with red eyes.
Andrew sat beside her.
“What are you doing out here, little bird?”
Sophie looked down.
“I had a dream.”
“About what?”
“About Daddy.”
Andrew went still.
“You remember him?”
“A little.” Her voice was very small. “He used to call me Starshine.”
Andrew looked at the drawing.
“Did he hurt you?”
Sophie shook her head quickly. “No. But Mommy cried when he left.”
“Did he ever tell you to go to the grocery store?”
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“Did anyone else?”
Sophie thought for a long moment.
Then she whispered, “A lady did.”
Andrew’s entire body tightened.
“What lady?”
“She came to our apartment sometimes. She gave Mommy envelopes.” Sophie rubbed her thumb over the paper. “She said if Mommy got sick, I should find the man with sad eyes.”
Andrew stared at her.
“Did she say my name?”
Sophie shook her head.
“She said I’d know him because everybody would move away from him.”
Outside the chapel, Marcus appeared in the doorway.
His face was grim.
Andrew stood.
“What is it?”
Marcus held up a phone.
“We found a camera in Hannah’s old apartment. Hidden inside a smoke detector.”
Andrew’s gaze turned cold.
“Who installed it?”
Marcus swallowed.
“The footage shows Gabriel Voss.”
And on the screen, the dead man looked directly into the camera.
May you like
Then smiled.
---
