Chapter 17 Gabriel
Gabriel
My brother finally answered, I had been calling this bastard all day.
“Damien! Where the hell are you?” I held my phone in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
“Gabriel, how have you been? It’s been a while,” my brother said casually.
“Shut up. Where are you?” I yelled.
Silence.
“Talk!”
He laughed under his breath. “Do you want me to shut up or talk? I don’t understand.”
“I’m not going to ask again. I want you to tell me where you are.”
“You seem a little distraught. Is something bothering you?” I took another long swig, the burning in my throat a welcome feeling. I could practically hear him smirking on the other end.
"Gabriel, you know me. I'm just here to help.” I could hear the faint sounds of laughing voices, clinking glasses, and music in the background. He was in some bar, no doubt enjoying himself.
"I'm at The Sandy Bar and Grille," he finally revealed after what felt like an eternity.
The name sent off warning bells in my head. It wasn't just any bar; it was where Sophia and I had our first date.
"Would you like to join me? I'm sure it'll bring back fond memories."
"Stay where you are," I said through clenched teeth before slamming the bottle down and grabbing my keys. The pain and fear twisting on Sophia’s face as we watched the footage of him destroying my office played in my mind over and over.
I stumbled toward my car while trying to light a cigarette. "Fucking bastard," I murmured to myself. The flame danced in the wind, and a thick plume of smoke filled my mouth as I got in my car. I jammed the key into the ignition, and finally, the engine purred.
I sped down the streets, the cool night air rushing in through the open windows, whipping my hair across my face. I ignored every red light and stop sign; they were nothing but inconvenient suggestions blocking my way down empty streets.
When I finally got to restaurant, the sight of it made my heart ache. Tiki torches lit up its flotsam facade, and laughter spilled from its open doors. It was exactly how it had been on that first date, back when everything was fine, and Sophia's big green eyes smiled at the sight of me.
I stalked in like an animal looking for its prey, my eyes scanning around, seeking out Damien. I spotted him at a table near the back, exaggerated laughter erupting from him as he threw his arm around a blond girl who didn’t even look old enough to drink.
Sauntering over with clenched fists, I towered over him. He was still oblivious to my presence, his hand snaking up her thigh.
"Damien," I said, my voice low but clear enough to be heard over the drowned-out music and conversations of the bar-goers. He stopped as he turned to look at me, his grin faltering.
"Gabriel," he returned, attempting to keep his cool expression. But I could see the unease flicker in his eyes. His angular features hardened into place.
"It's been a while," he said.
"Not long enough," I growled, pulling up a chair and making myself at home. The girl looked between the two of us, her eyes wide and eager to understand.
"So tell me," I began, "why did you do it? What do you want?"
Damien looked uncomfortable for a moment before he shrugged.
"I thought it'd be nice to catch up," he said, matching my neutral tone.
“Why don’t you tell this bitch to leave so we can talk?” I said.
He laughed then; it was a hollow sound devoid of any real joy. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for her to leave. She looked at him for a moment, horrified and humiliated before she quickly got up, rushing away. It was cruel, but I did her a favor.
"Well, I must say, Gabriel, you certainly have a way with words," he said while pouring two shots from the bottle on the table. He slid the glass toward me, and we drank.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
For a long moment, he just stared at me, then shrugged.
“Okay, sure. Let's get right to it.” He looked up at the ceiling, a thoughtful gleam in his eye.
“When did I get here? Let me think.” He said while drumming his fingers on the table, then flashed a smile.
“Oh right, I got here the same day you did.”
I laughed in disbelief. “I should have known you would be right behind me,” I said before pouring us each another shot. “Why did you agree to help me fake a diploma to get that job if you were just going to fuck with me anyway?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I owed you one, remember? Besides, it was easy.”
I slid the glass toward him, half of it spilling before coming to a stop by his hand. “How did you know exactly what path to take to get to my office? Why did you destroy it and say my fucking name to the camera?”
He looked up at me from his half-spilled drink with a self-satisfied smirk. “Nikolai,” was all he said.
I scoffed at the name. “That damn Russian works for all of us and none of us,” I said.
Damien nodded. “He may or may not have gotten into your building’s surveillance system and sent me some pictures.”
"You must be really fucking desperate for my attention," I said, my voice laced with a venomous calmness.
He simply shrugged again, his eyes vacant. "What can I say? I miss my big brother, and when you have your heart set on something, well,” he slowly filled up his half-empty shot glass, “you know how it is."
He hesitated to continue, but under the pressure of my gaze, relented.
“I have to ask. Did you hit your head recently? Or take a strange combination of drugs or something?”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “No.”
“It’s just that I can’t figure out why you would do something so fucking stupid.”
“Explain yourself. Enough games.” I said.
He leaned in close, dropping his playful act. "Do you know who owns those fuckin oil rigs? Did you even try to find out before extorting them?”
“Of course I did. Rosso Drilling. I had Nikolai look into it. Just some corporate assholes. How did you find out about that?”
He let the question hang heavy in the air between us, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
"Everyone knows about it, Gabriel. Those assholes, as you so wisely put it, are connected to the Sinclairs." I sank back into my chair as his words hit me.
“Yeah,” Damien said, “as if it weren’t bad enough you ruined our shot at peace with them before you left, now you hit them in the most cowardly way possible. Extortion? Really, Gabriel? That’s so far beneath you.”
“Marrying a Sinclair is not the way to create peace, Damien. Our father is a relic, and so is the Sinclair Don. The old ways are dead; those two are the only ones who can’t see that.”
He leaned in close and pressed his finger into my chest, snarling his teeth. “It could have worked, You fucked us.”
I swatted his hand away. “If I married that Sinclair bitch, we would all have a knife in our backs within a year, and you fucking know it.”
Silence hung between us again for what felt like minutes as we drank. Then it dawned on me, all the pieces fit together.
“They let me extort them, to make the other families think we made the first move against them.”
Damien nodded, his lips pressed together in a fine line.
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Look, I didn’t know they had a hand in Rosso Drilling. Nikolai, that damn Russian, didn’t mention their involvement.”
Damien leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “Nikolai isn’t some all-knowing being; he makes mistakes sometimes. This is your fucking fault, no one else’s. He’s been loyal to us for decades. You should actually be grateful for him.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And why is that?”
“He’s got an inside man with the Sinclairs.
He told us what they’re planning. The Sinclairs are going to pay you a long, unpleasant visit at your house tonight.
They don’t know about your little girlfriend, as far as I know, but thanks to me cleaning up your paper trail, when they don't find you at home and visit your office and see it was already flipped, they’ll think someone else got to you first. So, now you owe me one, and I expect a thank you. ”
At the mention of Sophia, I leaned forward. "She has nothing to do with this," I said through clenched teeth.
He tossed his drink back as though it were water. "Even if that were true, she’s a cute little target. They'd fuck her just because you care about her."
I ran my fingers through my hair, thoughts racing. Sophia didn't know anything about the Sinclairs; she barely knew anything about me, and I had to keep it that way.
"I need to go,” I said.
“Relax. Im not the only one in town. I’ve got Nikolai and Tony following her. She’s fine. Sit. Drink.”
I studied him for a moment and slid back into my seat, unable to shake the sense of growing unease threatening to consume me.
I couldn’t let Sophia get caught up in this.
I’d go back home and never speak to her again if that’s what it took, but it was too late for that now.
Damien scrutinized me from across the table, his face unreadable.
“I doubt you are, but I have to ask, are you on good terms with her? Is she happily expecting you to show up at her new little apartment anytime soon?”
“No. She’s pissed at me, thanks to you.”
"You haven’t changed a bit, Gabriel," he grinned, his earlier seriousness giving way to amusement. “I knew saying your name at the camera was a long shot, but I had a feeling she would be in your lap when you watched the footage back. She was, wasn’t she?”
I wanted nothing more than to punch that smug grin off his face. But I forced myself to keep calm, my knuckles whitening as I clenched my fists.
“Gabriel, I didn’t do this just to fuck with you. If I hadn’t done it, you would probably be dead tonight and she would end up in a dungeon somewhere.” Damien shrugged nonchalantly. "You just need to lay low and stay away from her. Let me take care of this. I have a plan."
“And what might that be?” I said before downing another shot.