CHAPTER 4: The Patriarch's Shadow
The morning fog rolled across the estate grounds, cloaking the manicured hedges and stone pathways in a ghost-white mist. Gabriel walked toward the detached carriage house, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails drew blood from his palms. Every memory of his father’s cold, calculated counsel over the past three years replayed in his mind like a twisted reel of film.
*“A weak woman, Gabriel. She couldn't handle the Sterling name. Forget her and focus on the legacy.”*
As he neared the stables, the heavy wooden side door swung open. Thomas Sterling stepped out, wearing a tailored tweed coat, leaning casually on his silver-tipped cane. Behind him stood Arthur, holding a set of car keys, his weathered face completely devoid of emotion.
"You're up early, son," Thomas remarked, his gravelly voice carrying across the damp courtyard. "I thought you'd still be sleeping after last night's charity gala."
Gabriel stopped ten paces away. He pulled the red leather notebook from his coat and held it up. The color drained from Arthur’s face almost instantly, though Thomas remained as unreadable as granite.
"How long, Father?" Gabriel asked, the restraint in his voice vibrating with lethal intensity. "How long did you keep my wife locked in a hole like an animal?"
Thomas sighed, a slow, patronizing exhale, and took a step forward. "You always were too sentimental for this family, Gabriel. Eleanor discovered things in the offshore shipping manifests that would have dismantled three generations of work. She was going to go to the federal prosecutors. She was going to destroy your future."
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"She was the mother of my child!" Gabriel roared, closing the distance between them. "Where is she, Thomas?!"
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