Chapter 3 - The Monthly Photograph
Raphael Santoro sat alone in his massive, dimly lit study overlooking the Boston harbor.
Rain lashed violently against the thick glass window, reminding him of the worst night of his entire life.
It had been exactly five years since he forced the only woman he ever loved out into the cold.
He had sacrificed his own happiness to protect Marin from a threat he could not identify.
The heavy mahogany door creaked open, and Gideon Pace walked silently into the room.
Gideon placed a single, unmarked manila envelope perfectly in the center of the wooden desk.
It was the monthly photograph, the only proof Raphael allowed himself to have that Marin was still alive.
Raphael waited for his right-hand man to leave the room before reaching for the envelope.
He slowly slid the glossy photograph out and stared hungrily at the image.
The picture showed Marin walking out of a rustic grocery store in a heavy winter coat.
She looked tired, but she was breathing, and that was all he technically needed to know.
Raphael prepared to lock the photograph away in his hidden floor safe as usual.
But a sudden, strange glare on the glossy paper caught his sharp attention.
He pulled a heavy magnifying glass from his top drawer and examined the background of the image.
Behind Marin, the large glass window of the grocery store reflected a tiny, bundled-up figure.
It was a small boy holding tightly onto the edge of Marin’s winter coat.
Raphael felt the air completely leave his lungs as he zoomed in on the child’s face in the reflection.
The boy had thick dark curls and gray eyes that mirrored his own exactly.
The terrifying mathematics of the situation clicked into place inside his brilliant mind.
Marin had been pregnant on the exact night he threw her out of his home.
She had been raising his biological son in secret for four entire years.
Raphael realized with absolute horror that Gideon had known about this child and deliberately hidden it from him.
He slammed his fist violently against the desk, shattering his crystal glass of liquor.
He pulled a loaded, suppressed pistol from his holster and marched directly downstairs.
Gideon was standing in the kitchen, casually drinking a cup of dark coffee.
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Raphael raised his weapon and aimed it squarely at the center of Gideon’s forehead.
He demanded to know exactly who Gideon was truly working for.
