15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
T he insurance adjuster arrives just as we finish going the document a rough inventory of the salvageable items and orders. He's a middle-aged Beta with salt-and-pepper hair and sympathetic eyes that have clearly seen their share of disasters. Gabriel introduces me, then steps back, giving us space while remaining close enough to intervene if necessary.
"I'm sorry about your shop, Ms. Reed," the adjuster says, notebook in hand as he surveys the damage. "Let's see what we can do to get you back in business as quickly as possible."
For the next hour, I follow him through the wreckage, answering questions about inventory values, equipment costs, and operating expenses. Gabriel hovers nearby, occasionally offering information I wouldn't have thought to include—replacement costs for the security system, specialized cleaning services for the bloodstains, reinforced glass for the windows.
By the time we finish, I'm mentally exhausted but cautiously optimistic about the insurance coverage. The adjuster promises to expedite my claim, mentioning that "special circumstances" have been noted in my file. I don't ask what those circumstances might be, but I suspect Gabriel's influence extends further than I initially realized.
"That went well," I say as the adjuster leaves, tucking his business card into my pocket. "Better than I expected, actually."
Gabriel nods, surveying the shop with a critical eye. "The cleaning crew should be here within the hour then the window replacement this afternoon.”
I move to the counter, brushing away glass shards to uncover the appointment book. Miraculously, it's mostly intact, though some pages are stained with water and what might be blood. I flip through it, trying to prioritize the upcoming orders.
"The Sullivan wedding is our biggest immediate concern," I murmur, more to myself than to Gabriel. "They've been planning this for months. Eight bridesmaids, four centerpieces for each of twenty tables, plus altar arrangements, boutonnieres..." I trail off, the enormity of the task ahead of me suddenly overwhelming.
Gabriel moves closer, his presence oddly reassuring. "When's the wedding?"
"Next Saturday," I reply, flipping to the detailed order sheet. "They've already paid the deposit. I can't let them down."
"You won't," Gabriel says with a certainty I wish I felt. "We'll make it happen."
I look up at him, surprised by the "we." "You're going to help me arrange flowers for a wedding?"
A hint of a smile touches his lips. "My flower-arranging skills are admittedly limited. But I meant we'll make sure you have what you need to fulfill the order. Space to work and anything else you need.”
“Where did you have in mind for me to work. I know it won’t be here while things are getting fixed.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair in frustration.
Gabriel is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "What if we set up a temporary workspace? Not here, but somewhere secure where you could fulfill the orders without disruption."
I glance up at him, surprised by the suggestion. "Like where?"
"We have a sunroom at the house," he says, as if offering up his pack's territory to an Omega he barely knows is the most natural thing in the world. "It gets excellent light, and there's plenty of space for your equipment. It would be temporary, just until your shop is operational again."
I stare at him, trying to process this offer. "You want me to set up a temporary flower shop... in your pack house?"
"Not a shop," he clarifies. "Just a workspace for filling existing orders. No customers, no walk-ins. Just you, your flowers, and whatever supplies you need."
The practical part of me immediately sees the advantages—a secure location, no rent to pay while the shop is being repaired, the continued protection of Gabriel's pack. But another part of me, the fiercely independent Omega who's spent years building a life without Alpha interference, balks at the idea.
"I appreciate the offer," I say carefully, "but that seems like a significant imposition on your pack. And staying there indefinitely? That's a lot to ask."
Gabriel shrugs, the gesture casual though his eyes remain intent on my face. "It's not an imposition if I'm offering. And it's not indefinite—just until your shop is operational again….Though…to be honest it would be better for you to stay till the killer is caught."
I let out a small sigh at the thought. Every aspect of my life was being disrupted, and the thought of being dependent on Gabriel's pack made me deeply uncomfortable. My entire adult life had been built around self-sufficiency and independence.
"And what happens when your pack gets tired of having an Omega in their territory?" I ask, voicing one of my many concerns. "Alphas aren't exactly known for their tolerance of outsiders, especially ones that disrupt their routines."
"My pack isn't typical," Gabriel replies, his voice steady. "We work together closely every day. We're accustomed to adapting."
I raise an eyebrow, still skeptical. "Even Dakota? He didn't seem thrilled about my involvement from the beginning."
Gabriel's expression shifts slightly, a hint of amusement showing through his professional mask. "Dakota's bark is worse than his bite. He's protective of our pack, that's all."
I shake my head, still uncertain. "And Lucas? Theo? They're just fine with a strange Omega invading their space, using their sunroom as a makeshift flower shop?"
Gabriel's lips twitch slightly. "Lucas was the one who suggested it, actually. And Theo's already making a list of supplies you might need."
This surprises me into momentary silence. I hadn't expected that level of consideration from Alphas I barely knew. I look around at my devastated shop, weighing my options. The Sullivan wedding alone would pay my rent for the month, not to mention the other standing orders I'd lose if I couldn't fulfill them.
"Temporary," I say finally, making my decision. "Just until the shop is operational again. And I pay for all supplies, all flowers. This isn't charity."
I pause for a second before sighing, “And if I am uncomfortable or anyone else you set me up somewhere else as a safe house…since you think there is a possibility of them coming after me again…”
Gabriel nods, respecting my conditions, “It isn’t a possibility. It is a fact that you will be targeted again. You were attacked and they failed…they will want to fix that loose end.”
He glances at his watch. "The cleaning crew should be here soon. While they work, maybe we should get you something to eat? We can go over details of everything as we do that."
My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, reminding me that breakfast was hours ago. "I'd like that," I admit, the relief he isn’t pushing is will on me and making my decisions make me relax more. Maybe these Alpha’s weren’t total assholes then.
“Should we wait for the cleaning crew?” I asked as Gabriel leads me to the door.
Gabriel shakes his head, already typing something on his phone. "Theo's already on his way. He'll supervise until we get back."
As if summoned by his name, a sleek black car pulls up outside the shop. Theo steps out, tablet in hand, his expression shifting from business-like to concerned as he takes in the damage through the window.
"Good timing," Gabriel says as Theo enters, carefully stepping over broken glass. His eyes meet mine briefly, a silent question in them.
"I'm fine," I assure him, touched by his obvious concern. "Just hungry."
Theo nods, his gaze sweeping the shop with the precise assessment of someone cataloging every detail. "Cleaning crew is ten minutes out. Window replacement at three, as scheduled." He adjusts his glasses. "I've also taken the liberty of ordering replacement display cases. They should arrive early next week."
I stare at Theo, momentarily speechless. "You've already ordered replacements? But the insurance hasn't even processed the claim yet."
"Details," Theo says with a dismissive wave. "The important thing is getting your shop operational as quickly as possible."
I exchange a glance with Gabriel, who seems unsurprised by Theo's efficiency. "Thank you," I say, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness. "But I insist on paying once the insurance comes through."
Theo adjusts his glasses, a small smile playing at his lips. "We can discuss finances later. For now, let me handle things here while Gabriel gets you something to eat."
Gabriel places a hand lightly on my lower back, guiding me toward the door. The touch is brief but sends an unexpected warmth through me that I quickly push aside.
"There's a café two blocks over," he suggests as we step outside. The morning sun is warm on my face, a stark contrast to the chill that's been inside me since the attack. "They have decent sandwiches and good coffee."
"Sounds perfect," I agree, falling into step beside him. The normalcy of walking down a familiar street feels surreal after everything that's happened. Gabriel stays close, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings, his body positioned slightly in front of mine as if to shield me from potential threats.
The café is quaint and bustling with the lunch crowd when we arrive. Gabriel secures us a small table by the window, positioning himself with his back to the wall and a clear view of both the entrance and the street outside. The protective gesture isn't lost on me.
"Force of habit," he explains, noticing my observation. "Always know your exits."
"Is it exhausting?" I ask blurted out suddenly, my filter failing me as I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
Gabriel glances at me, eyebrow raised. "What?"
"Being on high alert all the time," I clarify, gesturing vaguely to the way his eyes continuously sweep the street. "Always looking for danger."
A small smile touches his lips. "You get used to it," he says after a moment of consideration. "It becomes second nature after a while. Like breathing."
I study him across the table, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze continually shifts to the door, the windows, back to me. It's not paranoia, I realize—it's training, instinct, perhaps even necessity in his line of work.
"That sounds exhausting," I murmur, picking up the menu to give my hands something to do.
Gabriel shrugs, the movement fluid and controlled. "Some days more than others." His eyes meet mine, unexpectedly intense. "Today is one of the more demanding ones."
"It becomes second nature after a while," he admits, watching a couple enter the café. "You don't think about it consciously. It's just... background processing."
A server approaches with menus, and I'm grateful for the interruption. I hide behind the laminated card, trying to focus on sandwich options rather than the Alpha across from me who seems to effortlessly command attention despite his quiet demeanor.
"Do you know what you want?" Gabriel asks after a moment.
"The turkey avocado sounds good," I reply, setting down my menu. "And coffee. Definitely coffee."
Gabriel orders for both of us when the server returns—my turkey avocado sandwich and a black coffee for himself. The domesticity of the moment strikes me as oddly intimate, sharing a meal with this Alpha who has unexpectedly become central to my life.
"So," I venture, fidgeting with my napkin, "what happens after lunch? Do I just... go back to your house and start setting up shop in your sunroom?"
Gabriel takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never ceasing their vigilant scan of our surroundings. "If that works for you. We'll need to stop by your apartment first, though. Get whatever personal items you need."
The thought of Gabriel in my apartment—my private space—sends an unexpected flutter through my stomach. "My apartment? Is that necessary?"
"Unless you want to keep wearing the same clothes…and I don’t think you would be comfortable using our clothes," he points out, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. "And I assume you'd like your own toiletries, maybe some books to pass the time."
I sigh, recognizing the practicality of his suggestion. He was right. I didn’t want to wear dirty or clothes that were Alpha scented, "Fine. But just the essentials. This is temporary, right? I shouldn’t have to stay that long…?”
"That's the goal," Gabriel confirms, his voice dropping slightly. "But I won't lie to you, Vivian. This investigation is complex. It could take time to identify and apprehend whoever is behind the attacks."
Our food arrives, momentarily halting the conversation. I take a bite of my sandwich, savoring the fresh avocado and roasted turkey. It's delicious, but I can barely focus on the taste with my mind racing through all the implications of what Gabriel is saying.
"How much time?" I ask after swallowing. "Days? Weeks?"
Gabriel sets down his coffee mug, his expression carefully measured. "Difficult to say. We've got leads—the blood sample from your shop, footage of the attacker, connections to Thompson's research. But whoever's behind this has resources, planning capabilities. They've managed to stay ahead of us so far."
I take another bite, chewing slowly to buy myself time to process this information. The idea of staying at Gabriel's house for weeks, surrounded by his pack, living in their territory while trying to maintain some semblance of independence seems impossible. But what choice do I have?
"And in the meantime, I just... what? Live with your pack? Run my business from your sunroom?" I set my sandwich down, appetite waning. "You realize how unusual this arrangement is, right?"
Gabriel meets my gaze directly. "Yes. But these are unusual circumstances."
"That's an understatement," I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee. "I just... I've spent my whole life being independent. Not relying on Alphas for anything. And now suddenly I'm staying in an Alpha pack house, using their resources, accepting their protection." I shake my head. "It feels wrong."
Gabriel studies me for a long moment, his blue eyes intent. "I understand your frustration. But the alternative is risking your life, and that's not something I'm willing to do."
The certainty in his voice catches me off guard. There's something personal in his tone, something that goes beyond professional duty.
"Why do you care so much?" I ask quietly, setting down my sandwich. "I'm just a witness in your case. One of many, I'm sure. Why go to all this trouble?"
Gabriel's expression shifts, almost imperceptibly. He takes a moment before answering, choosing his words with obvious care. "At first, it was just professional responsibility. A witness in a dangerous situation needed protection." He pauses, his eyes meeting mine with unexpected intensity. "But it's become more than that."
My heart stutters, and I force myself to maintain eye contact despite the sudden heat creeping up my neck. "More how?"
Gabriel leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to ensure our conversation remains private. "There's something about you, Vivian. Your resilience. Your determination to maintain independence despite everything that's happened." A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "Most people would have fallen apart by now."
"Maybe I'm just good at hiding it," I counter, though his words send an unexpected warmth through me.
Gabriel studies me for a moment, his gaze searching. "Maybe. But I've seen enough people fall apart to recognize genuine strength." He takes another sip of his coffee. "And regardless of how you feel about Alphas, my pack and I are in a position to help. To keep you safe while you continue your life as normally as possible under the circumstances."
I lower my eyes to my half-eaten sandwich, processing his words. There's a sincerity in his tone that makes it difficult to maintain my defenses. "I appreciate that," I admit reluctantly. "I just... I wish none of this was necessary."
"So do I," Gabriel says quietly. "But wishing won't change our reality."
We finish our lunch in companionable silence, the weight of our conversation hanging between us. As Gabriel pays the bill—waving away my attempt to contribute—I find myself studying him more closely. What he revealed about me being something more. I didn’t know how to process that.
So I did what I did best…push it away and lock it away for it to bother and analyze at a later date.