Chapter 4

A month before Noah's surgery, Sophia's apartment exploded.

Gabriel had security seal off the block first, then brought her and Luca back to our townhouse. He didn't decide on his own. He stood on the porch and asked me, "Seventy-two hours at most. The basement safe room is bulletproof and has its own exit. I'll pay a separate fee for the space."

His restraint almost reminded me of before.

"Two hundred thousand dollars," I said.

The money arrived quickly.

The first night passed without incident. The next day I brought Noah home from a checkup and found the lock on his door had been changed.

The housekeeper, plainly uncomfortable, said security had received instructions: the street-facing bedrooms carried a sniper risk, and all the children had to be moved. Luca had severe claustrophobia and couldn't stay in the basement, so he had moved into Noah's room. Noah's things had been carried into the storage room.

Gabriel was delivering closing arguments in federal court, his phone off.

Sophia, wearing my cashmere loungewear, stood on the stairs and apologized. "Gabe doesn't know the details. He only said to do everything according to the security chief's plan. You wouldn't distract him in court over a room, would you?"

Noah said nothing. He walked into the storage room and picked up the wooden music box from the floor.

Gabriel had made it for him with his own hands. The lid was cracked, and the tiny piano inside no longer turned.

Luca leaned in the doorway. "It's just an old toy. My mom will get Uncle Gabe to buy you a new one."

Noah hugged the music box and asked me calmly, "Mom, do we charge for the storage room too?"

It felt like a dull knife opening my chest.

At eleven that night, Gabriel finally came home. When he saw the luggage in the storage room, his face darkened, and he had the room restored at once.

Sophia produced a forged security report. According to it, I had refused to let Noah go to the safe house outside the city and insisted on staying in the main residence. She had made the temporary adjustment for the safety of both children.

"Elena," Gabriel said quietly, "you can be angry at me. But don't gamble with Noah's safety."

He didn't shout at me. He didn't throw anything. He even carried the sleeping Noah back to the master bedroom first.

But precisely because he was so calm, the misunderstanding cut all the sharper.

"You believe this piece of paper, and not me?"

"I believe evidence."

"Good." I nodded. "Then remember you said that."

That night I packed my passport, Noah's medical records, and my mother's design manuscripts into a suitcase.

On the morning of the third day, the police confirmed the explosion had come from a deliberately sabotaged gas valve. The cameras happened to be broken, and Sophia was once again the sole victim.

Only I had smelled the faint machine oil on her coat in the basement.

I pulled the doorbell footage. An hour before the explosion, Sophia's car had briefly left its security route. The footage showed only a cracked right taillight.

I gave the screenshot to Gabriel. He had the technical team recover footage along the route at once. Two hours later the conclusion came back: the plate belonged to another car of the same model, and the driver couldn't be identified.

"And the taillight?"

"There are tens of thousands of that model in New York," he said. "It can raise suspicion. It can't support a conclusion."

Sophia immediately offered to leave, saying she didn't want to be the cause of our arguments. Gabriel agreed. Her shock showed for only half a second before Luca came rushing downstairs, screaming that someone outside was aiming at him. A red dot appeared on the glass at exactly that moment.

Security forced everyone to the floor. Gabriel threw himself over Noah and me first, shielding the window with his body. On the roof across the street, all they found was a laser pointer on a timer.

In the confusion, Sophia clung to him. He pried her hands off at once and turned to check whether I was hurt.

"Look at me, Elena. You're safe."

In that moment I could still see the love in his eyes.

And that was exactly why I despaired all the more. Sophia didn't need to change his heart. She only needed to keep manufacturing danger, so that his love was forever busy putting out fires, and never had time to stay.