Chapter 15 - I Chose My Daughter
Three weeks later, Isabella asked if she could plant something under the lemon tree.
I said yes.
She chose lavender.
“Mommy liked it,” she said.
“I know.”
Celeste remained in county custody while prosecutors built cases around coercion, kidnapping, obstruction, fraud, and Elena’s death.
Mason accepted a cooperation agreement.
Beatriz was charged with child endangerment, unlawful surveillance, conspiracy, and evidence tampering.
Saving her from the fire did not erase what she had done.
I made sure Isabella understood that.
“You can want someone to live,” I told her, “and still never let them hurt you again.”
She thought about it.
“Can Grandma ever come home?”
“No.”
“Good.”
It was the first time she said what she wanted without checking my face first.
That mattered more to me than any court filing.
I resigned as CEO of Mercer Group the following Monday.
The board called me reckless.
I called it overdue.
Nora helped place Isabella’s trust under independent management so no parent, grandparent, spouse, or board member could control her shares through guardianship.
The company could survive without owning my daughter’s future.
If it couldn’t, I didn’t care.
I started taking Isabella to school myself.
The first morning, she watched me from the passenger seat as if waiting for a driver to replace me at the last second.
At the curb she asked, “You’re picking me up too?”
“Yes.”
“Even if work calls?”
“Yes.”
“What if it’s important?”
I smiled.
“You’re important.”
She considered that answer, then hugged me before running toward the gate.
I sat in the car for several minutes after she disappeared inside.
Repairing trust was not one heroic rescue. It was showing up on boring mornings after everyone stopped watching.
That was the part I intended to get right.
That night, Isabella and I ate pizza on the living room floor because she said the dining room felt “too serious.”
Halfway through dinner she asked, “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going away for work again?”
I looked at her.
There were still faint marks on her wrist.
They were healing.
So were we.
“Not like before.”
She nodded.
Then she handed me the final envelope from Elena’s red box.
“I forgot this one.”
I smiled sadly.
“Your mother apparently had an endless supply of envelopes.”
Inside was one page.
Gabriel,
If you finally chose Isabella over Mercer Group, then you did the one thing your father was certain you would never do.
I stopped reading.
Isabella leaned against my shoulder.
Below that was a list of six names.
Celeste Mercer.
Mason Reed.
Three board members I knew.
And one name that made me stand so quickly Isabella nearly dropped her pizza.
Nora Blake.
I stared at the page.
Nora’s name had been handwritten beside one sentence:
SHE IS NOT WHO SHE SAYS SHE IS.
My phone rang.
Nora.
I answered slowly.
She didn’t say hello.
She said, “Gabriel, take Isabella and leave the house right now.”
I looked toward the dark windows.
“Why?”
A shadow moved outside.
Then Nora whispered:
“Because Celeste was never the person Elena was most afraid of.”
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