Chapter 9 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Dante watched the security monitor without blinking.
For six years, he had believed his younger brother was dead. He had searched hospitals, questioned informants, and sent men across borders looking for a body that never appeared.
Now Gabriel stood outside his gate, holding a photograph that threatened to unravel everything Dante had learned about his family.
"Open the gate," Dante ordered.
Renata stepped in front of him.
"Absolutely not."
Dante looked up at her.
"That's my brother."
"Or someone who knows enough about your brother to impersonate him."
The guard shifted nervously.
"Sir, he says he'll leave if Miss Oliveira comes outside."
I felt Dante's attention move toward me.
"No."
The word came out before I could answer.
"Marina, you're not going anywhere near him."
I understood his fear, but I refused to let another Montenegro decide what I was allowed to know.
"I'm not going outside alone," I said. "But I need to hear what he has to say."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"He's dangerous."
"So is everyone else in this story."
For a moment, he looked ready to argue. Then he exhaled slowly.
"Fine. We speak to him in the entrance hall. Security stays close, and Renata records everything."
Gabriel entered the mansion ten minutes later.
He looked older than Dante, although they were only two years apart. His dark hair had silver at the temples, and a thin scar crossed his jaw. His clothes were expensive but worn, as if he had spent years traveling without caring where he slept.
When he saw Dante, he stopped.
Neither brother spoke.
Then Gabriel looked at the wheelchair.
"I'm sorry."
Dante's expression turned cold.
"You're sorry?"
"I know what happened to you."
"You know what happened to me? You disappeared, let me believe you were dead, and now you walk into my house asking me to forgive you?"
Gabriel lowered his head.
"I didn't come for forgiveness."
He turned toward me.
"I came because someone is about to kill you."
Two guards moved closer.
Dante's voice dropped.
"Explain."
Gabriel placed the photograph on the table.
"Marina's mother was paid to raise a child who wasn't hers. The girl in that photograph was the daughter of Rafael and Elena Montenegro. Her name was Sofia."
I stared at him.
"Then who am I?"
Gabriel studied my face.
"That's what I've been trying to find out."
He explained that he had discovered the maternity records shortly before his disappearance. His father had suspected that money was being diverted through the family foundation, and Gabriel had found evidence connecting the transfers to a network of private clinics.
One of those clinics had handled the newborn transfers.
"I tried to confront Beatriz," he said. "She told me the records were forged. Then she showed me a document claiming that Sofia had died."
"Did you believe her?" Dante asked.
"No. But I couldn't prove she was lying."
Gabriel had continued investigating until he discovered that someone had placed a tracking device in his car. He fled Brazil after a failed attempt on his life.
Months later, he learned that Dante had been injured.
He returned secretly, hoping to identify the person responsible.
"Why didn't you contact me?" Dante demanded.
"Because I didn't know who you were working with. Your accounts had been compromised. Your driver had disappeared. And someone was sending messages using your name."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"Someone inside my organization."
Gabriel nodded.
"I believe the person who arranged your accident wanted control of your companies. Your injury made it easier to isolate you, discredit you, and redirect the money."
"And the evidence in Marina's bag?"
"An attempt to make her look like an accomplice."
I looked at the photograph again.
"Why would anyone involve me?"
Gabriel's expression changed.
"Because your mother was the last person who could identify the woman who carried Sofia away from the clinic."
My stomach tightened.
"My mother is dead."
"I know."
He took another photograph from his coat.
This one showed my mother standing beside a younger woman with dark hair. The woman was holding a little girl.
The child looked about five years old.
On the back was a date from twenty years earlier.
My mother's handwriting appeared beneath it.
She came back for her daughter.
I felt tears sting my eyes.
"My mother never told me about this."
"Perhaps she was protecting you," Gabriel said.
"From whom?"
He looked at Dante.
"From the Montenegro family."
Dante's face hardened.
"You keep suggesting that my family is responsible for everything, but you've given us nothing we can verify."
Gabriel nodded toward Renata.
"Then let her verify this."
He handed her a small flash drive.
"It contains copies of bank transfers, medical records, and recordings from the foundation's private archive. Some of the documents are incomplete, but they establish that money was paid to several people connected to the clinic."
Renata took the drive.
"We'll have it examined independently."
"Good," Gabriel said. "Because I don't expect either of you to trust me."
He turned toward me.
"But there's something you need to understand. Your mother didn't raise you because she was paid to do it. Whatever arrangement brought you into her life, she chose to keep you."
My throat tightened.
"How do you know?"
"Because I met her once."
He explained that he had visited my mother shortly before she died. She had refused to discuss the Montenegro family, but she had warned him that a woman named Beatriz had been looking for the child.
"I promised your mother I'd keep you safe," he said. "Then someone discovered where she lived. I had to disappear again."
I couldn't speak.
Part of me wanted to believe him. Another part wanted to throw him out of the mansion and never hear another word about my mother.
Dante seemed to understand.
"That's enough for today," he said.
Gabriel didn't protest.
He simply looked at his brother.
"There's one more thing. The person who arranged your accident isn't dead, Dante. And they know I'm here."
A guard hurried into the room.
"Sir, we have a problem."
Dante turned.
"What?"
"The east security camera has gone offline. Someone entered the property through the service gate."
Before anyone could move, the lights went out.
A gunshot exploded somewhere in the corridor.
I dropped to the floor.
Dante shouted my name.
Hands grabbed my arm, pulling me behind the heavy desk. Gabriel moved toward the entrance, while Renata called security.
Then the emergency lights came on.
A guard lay unconscious beside the doorway.
The window was shattered.
And Gabriel was gone.
Dante wheeled himself toward the corridor, his face white with fury.
"Find him!"
But another guard appeared at the library entrance, holding a phone.
"Mr. Montenegro, we found this in the courtyard."
The screen displayed a live video.
Gabriel was tied to a chair in a dark room.
A woman stood behind him, holding a gun against his head.
She leaned toward the camera.
"Hello, Dante."
I recognized her voice before I saw her face.
It was Isabella.
She smiled.
"If you want your brother alive, bring me the original maternity records. And come alone."
The video ended.
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice whispered, "Marina, if you want to know who you really are, meet me at the clinic where your mother gave birth."
A pause.
"Come alone, or you'll never see the truth."
The caller hung up.
I looked at Dante.
He was already reaching for his phone.
But before he could make the call, I saw something on the screen of the security monitor.
The woman holding Gabriel at gunpoint had turned slightly toward the camera.
Beneath her left ear was a small, crescent-shaped scar.
The same scar I'd seen in the photograph of my mother holding the newborn.
And suddenly, I understood the most terrifying possibility of all.
May you like
The woman who had been searching for me might not have been Isabella.
It might have been someone who had been standing beside us all along.
