Chapter 7 - The Kitchen Table
The spacious, marble-tiled kitchen smelled of warm maple syrup, toasted sourdough, and fresh coffee.
Leo, Lucas, and Liam were sitting at the large center island, happily swinging their legs as they dug into plates of scrambled eggs and smiley-face pancakes made out of blueberries. Emma stood by the stove, flipping another pancake with a worn spatula, a small smudge of flour dusting her left cheek.
"More syrup, please!" Liam chirped, holding up his plastic dinosaur cup.
"Coming right up, little monster," Emma laughed, pouring a small stream of syrup over his pancakes.
She turned around to grab a napkin—and froze.
Gabriel stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, his hands casually tucked into his trouser pockets. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the sharp, powerful lines of his throat. He looked less like a corporate warlord and more like a man stepping out of a fog.
The three boys stopped chewing instantly. The kitchen fell into a nervous, heavy silence.
They weren't used to their father appearing in the kitchen during breakfast hours. Usually, Gabriel ate alone in the formal dining room at 6:00 AM sharp, surrounded by financial papers, before vanishing into the city for days at a time.
Emma cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "Good morning, Mr. Moretti. Would you like Mrs. Higgins to bring coffee to your study? Or perhaps you're here to fire me in person?"
Gabriel didn't answer immediately. He pushed off the doorframe and walked slowly across the tiled floor, his heavy shoes clicking rhythmically against the stone. He stopped right beside Leo’s stool.
Leo shrank back slightly, his dark eyes wide with cautious apprehension.
Gabriel knelt down—an action so completely out of character that Mrs. Higgins, hovering near the pantry, quietly dropped a dish towel in sheer shock.
At eye level with his youngest son, Gabriel looked at the blue dinosaur cup. "That's a T-Rex," Gabriel said quietly, his deep voice smooth and devoid of its usual cold edge. "They have short arms, but they run very fast."
Leo blinked, surprise cutting through his wariness. "Like... like a car?"
"Faster than a car," Gabriel nodded softly. He then reached out—hesitantly at first, as if testing an unfamiliar mechanism—and wiped a speck of blueberry syrup from the corner of Leo's chin with his thumb.
Leo didn't pull away. Instead, a small, tentative smile broke across the boy's face.
Gabriel stood back up and turned his dark gaze toward Emma. She was watching him, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes searching his face for anger, betrayal, or cold calculation.
Instead, she found something else entirely.
Vulnerability.
"I spoke with Vance this morning," Gabriel said evenly, loud enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear.
Emma’s shoulders tensed. "And?"
"And he confirmed that your security clearance has been fully approved," Gabriel replied, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "You passed the Moretti family background check, Miss Brooks. You're officially cleared to stay."
Emma stared at him, stunned. For a second, the sharp, defensive barrier she had carried for eighteen months cracked. A soft, genuine smile bloomed across her face—a smile that looked so startlingly like Isabella's that Gabriel felt a sharp pang in his chest, followed by an overwhelming sense of profound peace.
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"Thank you, Gabriel," she whispered, using his first name without hesitation.
"Eat your breakfast, boys," Gabriel said, turning toward the coffee maker. "Afterwards... we're going outside. I believe there's a garden that needs ruining."
