I tug Gabriel up. He’s still shirtless, and his skin is hot under my fingers. “The doctor’s right. Let’s go talk about what we’re going to do.”
He looks as though he’s going to fight me on it at first, but after blinking a few times and releasing a sigh, he follows me into the hall. Gabriel always loses his edge a little where Felicity Huffman is concerned. I don’t blame him. She’s been a constant antagonist in his life for years, and seems to have a very personal vendetta against him and his family. Plus she has a frustrating ability to pop up in the places you least expect it. It makes her hard to fight.
We go back to Gabriel’s office. Gabriel stops for a shirt on the way, much to my chagrin, and I clear up the rest of the garbage from the first aid kit while I wait for him. When he enters the room, he pours a glass of whiskey.
“If Silvano dies…” he begins, but doesn’t finish his thought. He downs his glass and fills it again before taking his seat.
“Silvano’s not going to die,” I say. “He’s too stubborn for that.”
“Vito was stubborn too,” Gabriel points out. He scrubs a hand over his face. “What should we do, Alexis?”
I’m touched that he’s asking my opinion. Our relationship has changed over the past few weeks, but something about me tending his wounds tonight seems to have cemented our new normal.
“What would you normally do in a situation like this?” I ask.
He takes a sip of the whiskey, shadows dancing over his features. “I would repay them in kind. Find every one of them who was there and cut them down so that the first drop of Italian blood they spilled is their last.”
“Then do that,” I say. “But make sure that while you do, you don’t get lost in the revenge. Be careful. Felicity is probably expecting you to retaliate. Hell, I bet she’s hoping you will. Don’t fall into her trap.”
Gabriel scrubs a hand through his hair, and it feathers around his face like a black curtain. The cut on his cheek and the purple spreading beneath it make him look every bit the stern warrior I know him to be. Gabriel is danger personified. Felicity has no idea what she is messing with.
“My mother used to say that when demons come to earth, they pretend to be angels, and they get away with it because nobody expects a beautiful demon,” he says, swirling the glass absently.
I listen intently. Gabriel never talks about his mom. She died when he was young, and the second Felicity came into his life, she began to erase all traces of the woman who’d been Fabrizio’s queen before.
“Demons and angels share the same make-up, you see,” he continues. “The same genetic code. She used to warn me about meeting angels because there is no way to tell if they’re devils in disguise.”
My angel.
Felicity used those words in her text to me from Clara’s phone, too. But that’s not the first time someone has called me that. In my earliest memories, my mother called her angel too. She didn’t call me that when I was older. She didn’t really use terms of endearment at all once we moved to the city, like she’d left Kansas a different person.
“I wonder that about you, you know,” Gabriel says, pulling me back from my thoughts. “Whether you’re an angel or just pretending.”
“I’m not pretending to be anything,” I tell him. “And if angels and demons are made of the same stuff, then why can’t I be a bit of both?”
Our eyes meet, and his mouth pulls to the side. He takes another drink. Before either of us can say anything else, the baby monitor comes to life, and Harry’s cries fill the room.
“I’ll get him,” I say, rising to my feet.
Gabriel shakes his head and downs the rest of his drink. “I’ll get him.”
I smile and extend my hand to him. “Why don’t we go get him together?”
Gabriel takes my hand and smiles back.
27
Gabriel
The week after Silvano’s attack is one of the worst weeks of the war. The Cartel destroy two restaurants and one bodega under my protection. The Irish plant a bomb in one of our warehouses, which explodes and kills three of my men. Silvano is still barely clinging to life. The only sliver of light in what is otherwise a fucking grim week is that Antonio manages to track down the Cartel members who leveled Silvano’s team, and we take them out one by one.
I feel like a man running out of time. My skin itches as the last few grains of sand in the hourglass spill. I will never stop fighting, but I am beginning to worry about the future of the city. More importantly, the future of my family. The thought kept me from sleeping all last night, and so I call Alexis into my office first thing.
She arrives with messy hair and sleepy eyes and slumps into the chair across from me. “Angelo said you had something urgent to talk to me about?”
I take a second just to look at her. Even having just rolled out of bed, she’s still easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She blinks wearily and frowns when I don’t answer right away.
“Gabriel?”
The world floods back in around me, and I remember why I called her here.
“Things are getting more and more dangerous,” I tell her. “I’m worried that it’s no longer safe for you and Harry to be around me.”
She presses her lips together. “What are you suggesting?”
“I think perhaps you two should get out of town for a bit. Go somewhere off-the-grid. Somewhere safe.”
The color drains from Alexis’ face, and her eyes widen. “Are you trying to get rid of us?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.” She thrusts her chin out and folds her arms. The effect would be a lot more dramatic if she weren’t wearing pajamas with little hearts all over them.
I open my mouth to argue, but Alexis cuts me off.
“This is my home, Gabriel. You are my home. I don’t believe that I could be any safer than I am here, and as long as here is where you are, then it’s where I am too.”
Her eyes flash, daring me to tell her no again. And I’m tempted. I’m tempted to have her dragged out of the mansion kicking and screaming, because if that’s what it will take to keep her and the baby in her womb safe, then I should.
But she’s not wrong. At least here, there is a bevy of guards, security systems, and cameras. If someone attacks the mansion, backup can arrive in as little as five minutes. If I send her to a safe house, she will only be safe as long as nobody knows where she is.
“Fine,” I say. “But if anything goes down, you need to follow my instructions to a tee. Understand?”
“Yes.” She nods with soldier-like intensity. “I know how this works.”
“Good.”
A long second passes between us, and I nearly say more. I nearly say that I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her, and that it would drive me wild with grief. I nearly say even more than that.
But then Alexis swallows and sits forward in her chair, and the opportunity is gone. “You came back late last night.”
It’s neither a question nor an accusation, just a statement.