Chapter 10 - THE MAN WHO WATCHED ME GROW UP
-10
His name was Gabriel Shaw.
At least that was the name Liam knew.
Former Army medic.
Later private security.
Worked for Lorenzo Vitali quietly.
Marcus Carter met him twice.
After my parents died, Gabriel was supposed to monitor from a distance.
Not contact me unless necessary.
He photographed routes.
School.
People around me.
Security assessment.
The playground photograph came from him.
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because that was the point.”
I stared at Liam.
“You knew?”
“Only after Dad died.”
“Of course.”
He winced.
Fair.
Gabriel disappeared after my parents’ crash?
No.
Liam corrected.
“After Marcus died.”
That changed.
For eighteen months, Gabriel watched.
Then Marcus died of natural heart disease.
Gabriel vanished.
Why?
Unknown.
The photograph arriving now meant either Gabriel lived—or someone had his archive.
Agent Torres searched.
Gabriel Shaw was an alias.
Real name:
Gabriel Moretti.
No relation to any story? Could sound mafia cliché. Better Gabriel Shaw was real enough.
Social Security valid.
Military record.
No death certificate.
Last known address Denver.
Then financial activity stopped four years earlier.
Alessandro found an old Vitali payment.
Monthly security retainer.
Ended abruptly after Lorenzo’s death.
Maybe Gabriel lost protection.
Then federal agents discovered a storage locker in Indiana registered to him.
Inside:
Surveillance photographs of me from ages seventeen to twenty-one.
My parents alive.
Then funeral.
College.
Liam.
One photograph of Alessandro.
Age twenty-four.
Taken outside Vitali headquarters.
Why him?
A notebook explained.
Lorenzo wanted Gabriel watching two people.
Me.
Alessandro.
Separate heirs to separate truths.
If one disappeared, the other might matter.
That sounded melodramatic.
Yet evidence sat in boxes.
Gabriel’s notes were careful.
E.H. UNAWARE.
A.V. UNAWARE.
VITTORIO ACTIVE.
VALE EXPANDING.
Then after my parents’ deaths:
E.H. SAFE WITH CARTER.
Then:
BRENNAN VISITED FUNERAL. RISK.
He knew.
Then after Marcus died:
CANNOT MAINTAIN COVER. VITTORIO SECURITY HAS IDENTIFIED ME.
Final note:
GOING DARK. MATERIAL TO L.
L.
Lorenzo?
But Lorenzo died later.
Could be.
A sealed envelope addressed to Lorenzo remained undelivered.
Inside:
ORPHEUS HAS SECOND SITE.
Not St. Agnes.
Where?
ST. CATHERINE’S MATERNITY ANNEX.
My skin turned cold.
Maternity.
The name triggered something.
My mother had delivered me at St. Catherine’s.
It closed when I was five.
Converted into luxury apartments by Vitali Development.
Alessandro looked horrified.
“My company owns that building.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“What was Orpheus doing there?”
The Harvest Book had maternity entries.
Placental tissue.
Cord blood.
Neonatal samples.
Most legal with consent.
Some not.
But Gabriel’s note suggested more.
We found a file in my father’s drive:
CATHERINE.
Inside:
Birth records.
My birth.
Elizabeth Rebecca Hale.
Date.
Healthy female.
Then another page.
CORD SAMPLE RETAINED - RESEARCH.
Consent?
Signature:
Rebecca Hale.
My mother.
Maybe legitimate.
Then my father’s note:
REBECCA DENIES SIGNING.
I stopped breathing.
They had taken biological material from my birth without consent.
Not organs.
Cord blood and tissue.
Why?
Research.
Vitali Biomedical had funded early genetic screening studies.
Not necessarily criminal by itself.
But forged consent.
Again.
“Is my DNA in their system?”
I whispered.
Alessandro went pale.
Possibly.
Twenty-five years later, Vitali-linked databases might still contain genetic material tied to Elizabeth Hale.
That could explain how someone recognized my pregnancy risk?
Not directly.
But worse:
If Vittorio controlled archived genetic data, he might not need new paternity testing to connect me to my identity.
He still needed Alessandro’s DNA comparison.
Which he likely had from corporate health exams.
My stomach turned.
Agent Torres confirmed federal authorities seized old St. Catherine’s records before anyone could destroy them.
In a sub-basement storage archive, they found frozen research samples preserved through successor institutions.
Some labeled.
Some coded.
One code matched my birth record.
I felt violated across time.
My mother had spent years fighting consent abuse after discovering her own daughter’s material was taken.
Maybe that was why she first became obsessed with records.
A personal violation had opened her eyes.
Then another file.
Gabriel’s notes:
REBECCA BELIEVES ELIZABETH SAMPLE USED IN VITALI PEDIATRIC GENETICS PANEL WITHOUT CONSENT.
Alessandro stared.
“My family studied your DNA.”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
Not me specifically.
Likely thousands of newborn samples.
Still.
The horror was systemic.
Then agent Torres called.
“Gabriel Shaw is alive.”
I sat.
“Where?”
“Montana.”
“How?”
“He contacted us after seeing news.”
“Why hide?”
“He says Lorenzo ordered him to disappear if Vittorio identified him.”
“Will he talk?”
“Yes.”
We met by secure video.
Gabriel was sixty.
Gray beard.
Tired eyes.
He looked at me and started crying.
That surprised me.
“You look like Rebecca.”
My throat closed.
“Did you know my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Enough to owe her.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked down.
“Before I worked for Lorenzo, I worked for Vittorio.”
The room went still.
“Doing what?”
“Security.”
“Orpheus?”
“Yes.”
My body tightened.
“Did you hurt my parents?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt anyone?”
Gabriel did not answer immediately.
“Yes.”
At least honest.
“What?”
“I intimidated hospital staff. Followed families. Recovered documents.”
He did not claim ignorance.
“Then why switch?”
“Your mother.”
“What did she do?”
“She saved my daughter.”
I stared.
Gabriel’s daughter was born prematurely at Mercy Crown.
Rebecca was her ICU nurse.
Vittorio’s security work paid badly? Not relevant.
Gabriel had been absent often.
His wife terrified.
Rebecca cared for the baby.
Then one night Gabriel saw Vittorio’s contractor pressure another family over donation consent.
He ignored it.
Rebecca confronted him privately.
“She said if I kept protecting men who treated patients like inventory, one day someone would treat my daughter the same.”
That sentence broke him.
He began feeding information to Lorenzo.
Then Marcus.
He became the invisible watcher around me after my parents died because he believed he owed Rebecca.
“Why disappear after Marcus died?”
“Brennan found me.”
“Did he try to kill you?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“He showed me photographs of my daughter.”
Same threat.
Family.
Gabriel ran.
His daughter lived under another surname now.
He protected her.
Again secrecy.
But unlike others, he admitted:
“I should have gone federal then.”
Yes.
Late truth.
Again.
Before ending, Gabriel said:
“Elizabeth, there is one thing your parents never knew.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Vittorio wasn’t the person who ordered the Hale crash.”
We froze.
“Brennan said Vale.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Vale approved pressure. Someone else ordered recovery at any cost.”
“Who?”
Gabriel looked at Alessandro.
“Lorenzo.”
The room went silent.
Alessandro’s father.
The man trying to stop Orpheus.
May you like
The man protecting me.
According to Gabriel, Lorenzo himself had ordered the operation that ended with my parents’ car leaving the road.
