Z

Gabriel reached Monroe House before Harper did.

She hated that.

Not because she wanted to arrive first.

Because she knew exactly how he had managed it.

“You ran three lights.”

Gabriel stood beside the black SUV in the public office parking garage, his coat open, Marco three steps behind him.

“I ran two.”

“Marco?”

“Three.”

Gabriel looked at him.

Marco shrugged.

“She asked.”

Harper walked closer.

“Robert Voss?”

“Gone.”

“Residence?”

“Secure.”

“No entry?”

“Attempted entry.”

“How?”

Gabriel’s jaw hardened.

“Fake utility credentials.”

Harper stopped.

“Professional?”

“Yes.”

“Voss himself?”

“He never left the vehicle.”

That somehow made it worse.

Harper crossed her arms.

“Why would an eighty-year-old retired judge sit outside a domestic violence shelter while hired men test security?”

Gabriel looked at her.

“Because he wanted to be seen.”

Harper had already reached the same conclusion.

“Message.”

“Yes.”

“Claire?”

“Still at the office?”

“With Denise.”

Gabriel started toward the elevator.

Harper caught his sleeve.

“Where are you going?”

“To speak with Voss.”

“You just said he left.”

“I know where he lives.”

“Of course you do.”

Gabriel pressed the elevator button.

Harper stepped inside with him.

“No.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed.

“This conversation used to be easier.”

“It was never easy.”

“It was shorter.”

Marco entered behind them.

Harper looked at him.

“You know Voss?”

Marco nodded.

“Everyone over forty connected to the old Chicago structure knows Voss.”

Harper looked at Gabriel.

“Old structure meaning Vale?”

“Older.”

That answer changed the air.

The elevator doors closed.

Gabriel stared at the floor indicator.

“Robert Voss was a circuit judge for twenty-nine years.”

“I know.”

“What you don’t know is that before Arthur Vale controlled politicians, he controlled outcomes.”

“Trials.”

“Sentencing. Warrants. Investigations.”

Harper’s stomach tightened.

“And Voss?”

“One of his safest judges.”

“But page 184 already exposed him.”

“Yes.”

“Then why isn’t he in prison?”

Gabriel looked irritated.

“Statute limitations. Insufficient evidence. Convenient memory loss.”

“Meaning powerful people protected him.”

“Yes.”

Harper thought of Claire.

“Michael Donovan.”

Gabriel looked at her.

“You think he protected Voss?”

“I think a federal prosecutor who publicly built his reputation cleaning up Vale corruption might have had reasons to control what got cleaned.”

Marco muttered, “That would be ambitious.”

Harper turned.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

Gabriel’s phone rang.

Dominic.

He answered on speaker.

“Tell me something useful.”

“I always enjoy your warmth.”

“Dominic.”

“Robert Voss has a son.”

Harper frowned.

“Why does that matter?”

Dominic paused.

“Because his son is Michael Donovan’s chief political adviser.”

Silence filled the elevator.

Gabriel’s eyes hardened.

“What’s his name?”

“Nolan Voss.”

Harper knew that name too.

Media strategist.

Campaign consultant.

The man credited with reshaping Michael Donovan from prosecutor into possible Senate material.

Emily had complained about his interviews.

Too polished.

Too careful.

Harper whispered, “Family business.”

Dominic continued.

“Nolan also sits on the board of the Donovan Family Foundation.”

“Claire’s foundation?” Harper asked.

“No. Michael’s.”

Gabriel’s expression became unreadable.

“Find everything.”

“Already doing it.”

The elevator opened.

Harper stopped before stepping out.

“Gabriel.”

He looked at her.

“If Donovan is connected to Voss, Claire may know more than she realizes.”

“Yes.”

“And if we push her tonight—”

“We don’t.”

Harper blinked.

Gabriel stepped closer.

“You thought I was going to disagree.”

“A little.”

“I learn.”

“Occasionally.”

His eyes softened briefly.

Then Marco’s phone rang.

He answered.

His expression changed.

“Boss.”

Gabriel turned.

“What?”

“Residence manager found something.”

Ten minutes later, they stood inside Monroe House’s secure operations room.

Harper rarely visited.

She did not want the residence to feel like a fortress.

But practical safety required infrastructure.

Camera feeds covered exterior access points.

None showed bedrooms or private communal spaces.

Marco enlarged footage from the attempted entry.

Two men in utility uniforms approached a side gate.

Credentials.

Clipboard.

Calm body language.

The residence manager challenged them remotely.

They claimed a gas leak had been reported.

The manager called the actual utility company.

The men left.

Harper watched twice.

“Freeze.”

Marco stopped the footage.

Harper pointed.

“His hand.”

One man carried the clipboard in his left hand.

On his right wrist was a tattoo.

Three black bars.

Gabriel went still.

Harper noticed.

“What?”

He did not answer.

“Gabriel.”

Marco looked uncomfortable.

That was enough.

Harper turned fully toward her husband.

“What is it?”

Gabriel enlarged the image himself.

“Three bars.”

“Yes.”

“A prison crew marking.”

“Which crew?”

Gabriel looked at her.

“Mine.”

Silence.

Harper stared.

“No.”

“Formerly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he worked for people connected to me.”

“When?”

“Years ago.”

“And now?”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t know.”

Harper backed away from the monitor.

Claire’s words returned.

He said Rossi should have stayed in his own world.

She looked at Gabriel.

“This isn’t just about Monroe House.”

“No.”

“They’re using your history.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

Harper laughed once.

“No.”

His eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“That sentence means you’re about to disappear for twelve hours and return with three names and blood on your cuff.”

“I have not done that in years.”

“Blood on your cuff?”

“The disappearing.”

Marco looked away to hide a smile.

Harper folded her arms.

“We do this differently.”

Gabriel stared.

“How?”

“Claire first.”

“No.”

“You literally just agreed we wouldn’t push her.”

“We won’t push her. We ask what she knows.”

“She’s traumatized.”

“I know.”

Harper’s voice sharpened.

“Then act like it.”

Gabriel stopped.

Silence.

Harper exhaled.

“I am not saying she never answers questions.”

“What are you saying?”

“She gets food. A doctor. A place where Michael cannot find her. Sleep.”

Gabriel looked at the frozen surveillance image.

“And while she sleeps?”

“We investigate without turning her into evidence.”

That landed.

Gabriel looked back at her.

Then nodded.

“All right.”

Harper softened slightly.

“That was easier than expected.”

“I am exhausted.”

“Marriage?”

“Yes.”

She smiled.

His phone rang.

This time, unknown number.

Gabriel answered.

“Rossi.”

A male voice came through.

Older.

Measured.

“Still moving quickly, I see.”

Gabriel’s entire body changed.

Harper knew.

“Robert Voss,” he said.

Marco immediately activated recording.

Voss chuckled.

“You remember me.”

“I remember men who sold justice by the hour.”

“You were always dramatic.”

“What do you want?”

Voss ignored the question.

“I visited your wife’s little project tonight.”

Harper stepped closer to the phone.

Gabriel’s face went cold.

“If one person inside that building gets hurt—”

“There it is.”

“What?”

“The threat.”

Voss sounded pleased.

“The old Gabriel Rossi.”

Harper understood.

This was bait.

She touched Gabriel’s arm.

He looked at her.

She shook her head.

Choice.

His jaw tightened.

Then he said calmly, “You called me.”

Voss paused.

“Yes.”

“So speak.”

The satisfaction disappeared from the older man’s voice.

“Tell Harper Monroe to send Claire Donovan home.”

Harper felt something cold move through her.

Gabriel’s voice stayed level.

“No.”

“She has no idea what she’s interfering with.”

“Neither did you when you sat outside Monroe House.”

Voss laughed softly.

“Michael’s marriage is private.”

Harper leaned toward the phone.

“So was mine.”

Silence.

Voss clearly had not expected her voice.

“Mrs. Rossi.”

“Harper.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Harper.”

Another pause.

“Claire is confused.”

Harper looked at Gabriel.

Same language.

Mitchell had used it.

“You’re confused.”

“You’re emotional.”

“You don’t understand.”

People who wanted control always seemed to share a dictionary.

Harper answered, “Then she can decide that after she’s somewhere safe.”

“You have no legal right to keep her.”

“We’re not keeping her.”

“She has a child.”

“He belongs with his father.”

Harper’s hand tightened.

Gabriel saw.

Voss continued.

“A boy needs stability.”

Harper’s voice became very quiet.

“A boy needs to stop watching his father hurt his mother.”

Silence.

Then Voss said, “You should be careful.”

Gabriel stepped toward the phone.

Harper raised one hand.

No.

She answered herself.

“You already tried that sentence.”

“With who?”

“Men who are gone.”

Voss hung up.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Marco saved the recording.

Gabriel stared at Harper.

“What?”

“That was unnecessarily provocative.”

She almost laughed.

“You have threatened people during breakfast.”

“Different.”

“How?”

“I finish breakfast.”

Despite himself, Gabriel smiled.

Then Emily called.

Harper answered.

Her sister did not bother greeting her.

“You need to get back here.”

“What happened?”

“Claire told Denise something.”

Harper’s amusement vanished.

“What?”

“She thinks Michael has another family.”

Harper froze.

“What do you mean?”

“A woman.”

“Affair?”

“No.”

Emily lowered her voice.

“Another wife.”

Harper looked at Gabriel.

Emily continued.

“And she says the woman disappeared six months ago.”