Miller seemed to be waiting for Gabriel to speak. But Gabriel couldn’t. He was afraid of what he might say or do if he let the rage boiling inside free. At that moment he didn’t care about some grandfather who had abandoned them. He didn’t give a fuck about what he might have left him. His place was back with his brothers in Purgatory. Not right here, right now.
“Your grandfather was a complicated man,” Mr. Miller explained, clearly seeing Gabriel’s rising displeasure. He shifted nervously on his seat. “Joseph, your grandfather was a wealthy man. A very wealthy man. His business was handed over to the board, but his money and his assets are all now yours.” Gabriel didn’t really hear the news. His mind wandered to his brothers and who would be taken today. What the Brethren would do to them, whether the priests would punish them for Gabriel’s absence.
“Today you’re eighteen,” Miller said. Gabriel blinked, and his attention came back to the lawyer. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that your grandfather died a month ago. But it was in his will that on your eighteenth birthday you were to be found and given your inheritance.”
Gabriel’s hands curled into fists under the table. He was shaking. He was shaking so badly that, for once, he felt like he understood to a small extent what his brothers felt every single minute of their lives. The need to unleash the fire inside and damn the consequences. His eyes closed, and he tried to breathe. The bastard who should have saved them was now dead. But had left Gabriel everything. What was money? What were material goods when one’s body and mind had been raped and sullied and irreparably damaged?
“We can leave immediately. I have documents you must sign, and then I can show you your new home.” Gabriel simply glared. He wanted Gabriel to leave? To swan off into the life of a rich man when his place was here, banded to his brothers? “Do you understand, son? Your grandfather was worth billions. Billions that are now yours. You’re eighteen. You would have been released from Holy Innocents today. You now have somewhere to go.”
“I don’t care for his money,” Gabriel hissed, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.
Miller blinked, then looked around the room. His eyebrows seemed to pull down in dislike. “Son, listen. I can see you’re pissed. But there’s more to this than I can tell you here.” Miller leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Think of what you could do with all that money. You could help people if you didn’t want it yourself. You can use it however you want.” Miller’s hands clasped together. “Your world has just been opened up in ways you can’t imagine. I know Holy Innocents seems like the entire world right now, but it’s not. Everything is possible when you’re this rich.”
For the first time since Miller sat down, Gabriel’s anger dropped, and a slither of light sparked in his chest. He had been going to pledge himself to the Brethren today, all so he could be close to his brothers. He’d reasoned that if he was close to the priests, he could try to destroy them from within. But if he now had money . . . maybe he could get them out another way. He could give them a home, protect them. He met Miller’s eyes and tried to find the answers he sought. Money could buy him resources, information . . . influence and power. He wasn’t sure if he could garner power enough to rival the might of the Catholic Church, but he could try. He would find a way.
Gabriel was torn, pulled in the direction of two different paths. He tried to think, racking his brain and his heart to find the right answer. But he didn’t have long to decide. Father Quinn came back into the room, his posture rigid and his eyes lit with irritation . . . and, Gabriel realized, worry. Father Quinn was scared. “Is everything okay?”
Seeing the high priest so rattled made Gabriel’s decision easy for him. In all the years under his harsh rule, Gabriel had never seen the priest shaken, not even a little apprehensive. But now, with the priest’s eyes darting between Gabriel and Miller, Gabriel knew he had found a weakness. None of the taken children were ever released without pledging to the Brethren first. But Gabriel could be. He could be the chink in their impenetrable armor. “Okay,” Gabriel said to Mr. Miller. “Let’s go.”
Father Quinn’s gaze snapped to Gabriel. “And where are you going?” Father Quinn did well to sound concerned for Gabriel. But Gabriel heard the panic in his tone.
“With me,” Mr. Miller said, getting to his feet. “Joseph is eighteen and has been left an estate in an inheritance.” Mr. Miller turned to Gabriel. “I’ll wait while you collect your things.”