molded into their father’s image, Gabe had emulated him intentionally. He had always wanted to be Harrison 2.0. The advanced version for a new generation.
Maybe Harrison had been flattered by Gabe’s boyhood hero worship, but he’d also seen Gabe’s potential and encouraged him. When it came to the money machine of fixing, he had pulled Gabe into it. Not Luc or Rafe. This was their enterprise. Their secret. These days it was Gabe’s personal success story, the one that Harrison condoned but didn’t run or even ask many questions about.
Gabe had taken that as a sign of confidence in him. Certainly there was deep satisfaction in Harrison’s nod of approval when the bank statements climbed.
So, yes, he was deeply disturbed if he let himself consider Harrison might not recover, but he had learned as a child to sublimate his deepest, most anguished feelings. That’s why he was so good at fixing.
He wished he could sublimate the guilt over keeping that side of himself from Mariella. Because, where Harrison was his surrogate father, Mariella was the nurturing maternal figure who had mended the hole in his heart that Ana had torn open. Mariella treated him as her own flesh and blood, sometimes even chose his side over that of her own children. That sort of acceptance meant everything.
He felt such a tug of divided loyalty! Yes, Harrison had taken women on the side over the years, but they were very much out of the spotlight. He understood how to be discreet. For Mariella to take up with Joe, of all people... Harrison would expect Gabe to put the brakes on that.
To fix it.
Which was why he had hesitated to reveal himself to Mariella. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if he told her who he was. He hated to see her worry, but he had to protect both her and Harrison—from each other, it would seem, and from himself.
Mariella would be appalled by some of the actions Gabe had taken as the Fixer. The hand that clasped hers wasn’t visibly stained, but he knew it was dirty. Even Harrison didn’t know how far he was going with his side jobs these days. It had always been a slippery slope, one Gabe had descended because it was so easy. He got away with everything he did. All the while, the dollars climbed like points on a scoreboard, quietly proving to himself and Harrison that he was the most valuable player in the Marshall family.
But he knew the difference between persuasion and blackmail, between a gift and a bribe. Sometimes there were parties on the other side of his fixes who were less than enamored by his methods and results. Harrison took a don’t ask, don’t tell attitude about it, but Mariella would feel differently.
Keeping her ignorant was best for all of them.
The car turned up the driveway to Casa Cat.
His condo in the city had never been home the way this place was. What would his life look like if not for his life here, he reflected briefly?
The permanence of Casa Cat had grounded him, which was ironic considering the grandeur of the home itself. It sat upon a tall knoll, giving it stunning 360-degree views of the mountains, city and ocean. When he was ten, he had written a book report on Greek gods, identifying with the mortals who visited Mount Olympus.
He valued the permanent place he’d been granted here. He had vowed long ago never to be cast from this place again.
“Problem?” Mariella asked as she noted he was lagging behind, staring off to the glitter of the horizon against an intense blue sky.
“Wondering where I would be if you hadn’t let me live here,” he admitted, moving to join her on the wide steps leading to the front doors.
“Best decision we ever made,” she assured him with a kiss on his cheek. Then she rubbed her lipstick from his skin with her thumb.
It was such a motherly thing to do, regressing him to the child he’d been, he smirked, holding still to allow it. And he felt a fresh kick of guilt for keeping her in the dark. He hated that tension around her eyes. Letting her worry, when he could ease her stress, rather than contribute to it, seemed cruel.
He felt ungrateful.
“Tía—” he began as he held the door for her, seesawing with indecision.
“Where have you two been off to so early?” Ana was coming down the interior stairs wearing a peignoir of ice blue, breasts nearly falling out the V of lace. She struck a pose halfway down, as she liked to do, as though making an entrance to a ball, even though her hair was only finger combed and last night’s makeup had left smudges under her eyes.
Gabe bit back a curse of impatience. Her presence in this house was a ticking bomb. Always had been. It wasn’t just the sense that her true reason for being here—whatever that might be—would explode at the most unexpected and inopportune moment. He had the old, niggling sensation from his childhood that when she did leave, she would try to drag him with her.
“It’s noon,” Mariella pointed out coldly. “We went to visit Harrison. And that,” she gestured to the La Perla negligee that clung to her sister’s body, “is mine.”
“Harrison?” Ana queried with false innocence, causing the temperature in the air-conditioned home to drop to subzero. “Or this?” She plucked at the lace on the lapel of her silk wrap, leaning on the rail to taunt, “Sisters share everything. Don’t they?”
The tension condensed into an icy fog so tangible, Gabe could taste it. A dim memory came to him of another fight he’d overheard, years ago, when Mariella had been pushing for him to stay here.
I know why you want him. Does Harrison know you’re still carrying a torch?
That has nothing to do with it.
You’re off the mark, anyway. Whatever you think you see in my son, whoever, it’s not there.
I’m surprised you have any idea, one way or another, Mariella had countered bitterly.
Elana had come along, interrupting Gabe’s eavesdropping. He hadn’t completely understood what he was hearing anyway, aside from being certain they were talking about him. Now the old, jagged pieces fell into a picture he saw more clearly. It made his heart pound. Hard.
Had they fought over a man back then? His father?
Gabe shifted his gaze between them. Mariella looked ready to spit nails. Ana flicked her hair behind her shoulder and cocked her hip.
“I’ve shared my son with you all this time. Surely you can lend me a nightgown.”
Gabe waited for Mariella to tell Ana to hit the road. She didn’t. Because if Mariella had a fault, it was weakness for family, even the ones who didn’t deserve her generosity.
Mariella’s gaze lowered, as if she felt guilty for taking him in. Perhaps it had cost his mother to lose him, but he didn’t care. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“We should finish our conversation,” Gabe said to Mariella.
They weren’t in the middle of anything, but she got the message that it was an excuse to walk away. She nodded jerkily. “Let’s take it into my office.”
“Wait. We have a problem,” Ana said, coming down a few more steps. “Reporters have been calling me. They want me to comment on the rumor the family is falling apart. That we’re
