Chapter 8: The Woman Behind the Glass
The woman in the photograph was older than Damian remembered.
But he recognized her immediately.
His mother.
Margaret Cross.
The woman whose funeral he had attended when he was twenty-two.
The woman whose portrait had hung in the east hallway until Alexander ordered it removed.
The woman he had spent twelve years mourning.
And now she was sitting in a police interrogation room.
Alive.
"Get the car," Damian ordered.
Marcus shook his head.
"Boss, the police have surrounded the property.""
"Then get me another exit.""
"There's no guarantee we can get through.""
Damian grabbed his coat.
"I didn't ask for a guarantee.""
Ethan stepped forward.
"I'm coming.""
"You can barely stand.""
"She's my mother too.""
Damian looked at his brother.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Damian nodded.
"Fine. But if you collapse, I'm leaving you in the trunk.""
Ethan managed a faint smile.
"Still charming.""
Sofia approached them.
"I'm coming.""
Damian shook his head.
"Not this time.""
"Your mother might know what happened to mine.""
"Which is exactly why you need to stay here.""
Sofia's expression hardened.
"You don't get to decide what truths I'm allowed to hear.""
Ethan glanced at Damian.
"She's got you there.""
Damian exhaled.
"Fine. Stay close.""
Marcus led them through a concealed passage beneath the east staircase. It connected the manor to an old maintenance garage beyond the main security perimeter.
They emerged into the cold morning air.
Three vehicles were waiting.
The drive to the city took forty minutes.
Nobody spoke much.
Damian sat in the front passenger seat, studying the photograph of his mother.
He remembered her perfume.
Lavender and something sweet.
He remembered her reading to him in bed when thunderstorms frightened him.
He remembered her standing between him and his father during arguments.
But most of all, he remembered the last night he saw her.
She had kissed his forehead and told him to look after Ethan.
The next morning, Alexander had told him she was dead.
Damian had never questioned it.
That was the part he couldn't forgive himself for.
When they reached the police station, Marcus parked two streets away.
"Boss, Hale's people are inside.""
"How many?""
"At least four.""
"Then we'll use the rear entrance.""
They entered through a side corridor and found a clerk sitting behind a glass partition.
Damian approached.
"I'm here to see Margaret Cross.""
The clerk looked up.
"Are you family?""
"Her son.""
The clerk checked the computer.
"She's not available.""
"Why?""
"She's being questioned.""
"Then tell the detective her son is here.""
The clerk hesitated.
"Which son?""
Damian stared.
"How many do you think she has?""
The clerk picked up the phone.
Five minutes later, a uniformed officer approached.
"Mr. Cross?""
"Yes.""
"Detective Hale would like to speak with you first.""
Damian smiled without warmth.
"How considerate.""
They were escorted to an interrogation room.
Detective Robert Hale was waiting.
He was in his late fifties, with silver hair and a neatly pressed suit. His expression was calm, almost welcoming.
"Damian.""
"Hale.""
"It's been a long time.""
"Not long enough.""
Hale gestured toward a chair.
"Please sit.""
Damian remained standing.
"Where's my mother?""
"She's safe.""
"Then let me see her.""
"Not until we establish what happened at Cross Manor.""
Damian leaned forward.
"Your daughter.""
Hale's expression changed.
"What?""
"Your daughter. The one Alexander Cross has been holding hostage for eleven years.""
The detective slowly stood.
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"Then you won't mind explaining why you signed a death certificate for a man whose body was never properly identified.""
Hale's face hardened.
"You're making serious accusations.""
"And you're wasting my time.""
Ethan stepped forward.
Hale stared at him.
His face went completely white.
"Jesus Christ.""
Ethan smiled faintly.
"Hello, Robert.""
Hale backed away.
"You're dead.""
"Apparently, everyone keeps telling me that.""
Hale reached for his radio.
Marcus moved faster.
He grabbed the detective's wrist and pinned it against the table.
"Don't.""
Damian looked at Hale.
"Now we're going to see my mother.""
Hale swallowed.
Then he whispered something that made Damian's blood run cold.
"Your mother isn't the one who was arrested.""
Damian froze.
"What?""
Hale looked toward the one-way mirror.
"Someone else is using her identity.""
Ethan's expression changed.
"Who?""
Hale didn't answer.
The interrogation room door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
She wore a simple gray coat and had her dark hair tied back.
Her face was older, but Damian recognized the eyes.
His mother.
Margaret Cross.
She looked at him for several seconds.
Then she whispered his childhood nickname.
"Little D.""
Damian's knees nearly gave way.
"Mom?""
She crossed the room and touched his face.
"My beautiful boy.""
He stood motionless.
Then he pulled her into his arms.
For the first time in twelve years, Damian cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
He simply held the woman he had buried in his heart and let himself become a son again.
Ethan approached them.
Margaret reached for him too.
"My boys.""
She kissed his forehead.
"You shouldn't have come back.""
Ethan laughed weakly.
"I missed you too.""
But Damian stepped away.
"Why?""
Margaret looked at him.
"Why what?""
"Why did you let us believe you were dead?""
Her eyes filled.
"Because your father threatened to kill both of you.""
"You could have found another way.""
"I tried.""
"Not hard enough.""
The words came out harsher than he intended.
Margaret lowered her gaze.
Sofia quietly stepped forward.
"Mrs. Cross?""
Margaret looked at her.
For a moment, her expression changed completely.
Then she took Sofia's hands.
"Elena's daughter.""
Sofia began crying.
"You knew my mother?""
Margaret nodded.
"She saved my life.""
Sofia stared.
"How?""
Margaret sat down.
"Your mother discovered that Alexander had been using the family accounts to finance an operation involving kidnapped witnesses and forced transfers of property. When she tried to expose him, he ordered her arrest.""
"She never told me.""
"She was protecting you.""
Margaret looked at Damian.
"Elena helped me escape the estate. She arranged for me to disappear and gave me a new identity.""
"Then why did you never contact us?""
"Because Alexander had people watching you. Every letter, every phone call, every person who approached you was monitored.""
Ethan sat beside her.
"Mother, we need to know where Isabella is.""
Margaret's expression changed.
"Why?""
"Victor's dead. Alexander escaped. Vivian is wounded. The whole organization is falling apart.""
Margaret looked toward the window.
"Then you need to understand what your father was building.""
She opened her handbag and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a woman standing outside a hospital.
Damian recognized her from the picture in his father's study.
Isabella.
On the back was a hospital name.
And a date.
Tomorrow.
"She's in Boston?"" Damian asked.
Margaret nodded.
"She came back three days ago.""
"Where is she now?""
"Under police protection.""
Damian looked at Hale.
"Why didn't you tell us?""
Hale's face had become ashen.
"Because she's the witness your father has been trying to find for eleven years.""
Margaret leaned forward.
"There's something you must understand, Damian. Isabella isn't simply your sister.""
"Then what is she?""
Margaret's eyes filled.
"She's the only person who knows which of your father's children he intended to make his successor.""
Damian frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Margaret looked toward Ethan.
Then Sofia.
Finally, she spoke.
"Alexander didn't build his empire for you or Ethan.""
May you like
She took a breath.
"He built it for the child he stole from me.""
