Chapter 7 - The Father Who Never Died
Rafe spent the night searching old records.
Every database said his father died.
Every official document confirmed it.
But the photograph proved otherwise.
The next morning, Patrick finally admitted the truth.
“Your father survived.”
Rafe stared.
“How long?”
“Until three years ago.”
Silence.
Mave looked at her father.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he helped me disappear.”
“From whom?”
“Voss.”
Patrick explained.
After Lucia's death, Rafe's father had realized the network was out of control.
He tried to destroy it.
Voss threatened him.
So Patrick helped him vanish.
He lived under another identity.
Watching his son from afar.
Never approaching.
Because he believed Rafe would be killed if anyone knew his father was alive.
Rafe's face was unreadable.
“I hated him.”
Patrick nodded.
“You had every right.”
“He let me think he was dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he come back?”
“Because he believed his enemies would use you.”
Rafe looked toward Mave.
“He was wrong.”
Patrick shook his head.
“No.”
He smiled sadly.
“He was just afraid.”
They found Rafe's father in a small coastal town.
He was seventy.
Gray-haired.
Tired.
Alive.
When Rafe saw him, he did not speak.
Neither did the older man.
Finally:
“I'm sorry.”
Rafe's jaw tightened.
“You don't get to say that and disappear.”
His father nodded.
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
Rafe laughed bitterly.
“Everyone was.”
His father looked at Mave.
“You are Patrick's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I owe your family my life.”
“You owe my father more.”
“I know.”
The old man gave them one final file.
Everything Voss had done.
Everything Silas had hidden.
And one name.
A federal judge.
The judge who had signed Patrick's foreclosure.
He was the final connection.
They exposed him.
The entire network finally collapsed.
Rafe's father turned himself in.
Not because he had committed all the crimes.
Because he had spent too long hiding.
His confession cleared Patrick.
Cleared Mave.
And cleared Rafe from the remaining investigations.
The family began healing.
Mave and Rafe bought a house.
Not a mansion.
A place with warm wood floors.
A kitchen.
A garden.
A guest room for Clara.
Patrick visited every Sunday.
Rafe learned how to cook.
Badly.
Mave complained.
Loudly.
It was peaceful.
Until one evening, Rafe found Mave crying in the garden.
“What happened?”
She held out a pregnancy test.
He stared.
“Is this…?”
She nodded.
He sat beside her.
For once, the feared mafia boss looked completely terrified.
“A baby?”
“A baby.”
He laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
Mave leaned against him.
“You okay?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
“What do we do?”
“Raise it.”
He looked at her.
“Together?”
“Together.”
He kissed her.
The future seemed bright.
Then Clara arrived.
She was holding an envelope.
“This came for both of you.”
Rafe opened it.
Inside was a note.
Congratulations.
A pause.
Your family is finally complete.
Then a second page.
But someone has been watching your child since before it was born.
Rafe's face changed.
Mave stood.
“Who?”
No answer.
The envelope contained a photograph of their house.
Taken that morning.
Someone had been watching.
Again.
Rafe immediately increased security.
He wanted to move.
Mave refused.
“We aren't living in fear.”
He stared at her.
“What if I can't protect you?”
“You can.”
“What if I fail?”
“Then I'll help you.”
He smiled.
“That wasn't the answer I expected.”
“You married the wrong woman.”
He kissed her.
May you like
“No.”
“The right one.”
