73. Gabriel
Neomi sits between us in the back of the SUV, her head resting lightly against Lars’ shoulder, her fingers still loosely threaded through mine.
Other than the minor bruises and the damage to her ear, the doctors said she was fine.
I tighten my grip on her small hand as outside, the city drifts past in streaks of gold and shadow.
Lars hasn’t let go of her since we left the hospital.
His hand stays anchored on her skin, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles like he needs the constant confirmation that she’s still here.
Every so often, his gaze flicks toward the windows, and I can see his brain working. Plotting revenge, if I had to guess.
Neomi moves between us, her fingers tightening around mine before she lifts her head just enough to glance between us. There’s a quiet awareness in her expression, something observant beneath the exhaustion.
“You’re both very intense right now,” she murmurs, her voice softer than usual.
Lars’s hand slides up to cradle the back of her neck, guiding her closer. “I think we’re allowed to be a little intense right now, Bella. We’re just so thankful that you’re okay.”
She studies him for a second longer, reading the tension he isn’t bothering to hide. “You’re already planning something,” she says quietly.
“You’re right, I’m going to figure out who did this,” he replies.
I glance at him, catching the change fully now. The panic that had him unraveling in the hospital hallway hasn’t disappeared—it’s hardened, redirected into something far more dangerous.
Neomi’s gaze softens, her hand sliding up his chest as she leans in, pressing a slow kiss just beneath his jaw. The contact steadies him.
“I’m still here,” she says, her voice low. “Right next to you.”
His eyes close, like he’s anchoring himself to that.
“I know,” he says.
But his grip on her doesn’t loosen. Neither does mine.
The estate gates open before we reach them.
Security has multiplied compared to the last time I was here. Vehicles line the drive, men stationed at every visible angle, every approach locked down. The energy surrounding the property tells me that this isn’t precaution anymore.
This is preparation for revenge.
The SUV slows as we pull to the front, and the moment the door opens, Enzo is already there.
His attention goes straight to Neomi, his gaze sweeping over her with concern, taking in her appearance before he steps forward. Zara stands behind him, her posture tight, while Violette remains composed but watchful at her side.
Neomi straightens slightly as we step out, though her hand doesn’t leave mine, and Lars stays close, his arm firm at her back as we guide her up the steps.
Violette reaches her first, her hands lifting to cup Neomi’s face with gentleness, her eyes assessing.
“Neomi, my dear. I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says quietly, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
Neomi exhales a breath, something between a laugh and lingering shock. “Me too, Vi.”
Zara steps forward next, pulling her into a careful embrace, one hand braced protectively at her back. “You should never have been within reach of something like that,” she says, her tone low.
Enzo’s attention lands on Lars, something unspoken passing between them. It’s a moment filled with acknowledgment, escalation, understanding.
“We’ll handle it,” Enzo says.
Lars nods in agreement.
We don’t stay downstairs long.
The estate is alive with movement, voices carrying low and purposeful through the halls, security repositioning, orders already being executed. It’s not the place for Neomi right now, not with everything simmering beneath the surface.
Lars leads us upstairs, as we move through his private wing and into the suite. The space is already prepared, the lighting softened, and the bed turned down.
Neomi exhales as we step inside, the tension in her shoulders easing.
“This feels better,” she whispers, the exhaustion finally catching up to her.
Lars guides her toward the bed, helping her sit before lowering himself in front of her. His hands move carefully, brushing her hair back from her face, his gaze intent, searching for anything he might have missed.
“You need to rest,” he says.
She gives him a look, tired but amusement flickering through it. “You’re being intense again.”
“Yes, and I will continue to do so,” he replies, completely unapologetic.
A breath of laughter leaves her, but she doesn’t argue as he helps her lie back, adjusting the pillows behind her. I move to the other side, pulling the blanket over her, my hand lingering on her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my palm.
Her fingers curl around mine instinctively.
“Don’t leave,” she murmurs, her eyes already beginning to drift shut.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her quietly.
Lars presses a kiss to her forehead, his hand resting briefly on her cheek before he stands, tension still threaded through every line of his body.
“Close your eyes, Bella. I need to go check in with Enzo,” he says, though it sounds more like he needs movement, something to do with the energy still coiled inside him.
“I’ll be right back.”
The door closes behind him.
I lie down next to Neomi and she curls into me. I run my fingers through her hair, so thankful to be holding her in my arms.
“Close your eyes, Little Siren.”
The bathroom door shuts softly behind me.
For a moment, I pause, my hands braced against the counter, my reflection staring back at me. The war inside me has reached a breaking point. Seeing Neomi in that hospital bed, watching Lars crumble, it was almost too much to bear. I have a deep-seated need to protect them, to keep them safe.
I realize the hypocrisy in that, because I’m about to put them in danger.
I pull my phone from my pocket.
The screen lights up with seven unread messages. All from Sera. My nerves light up, knowing I need to face her questions. I open the thread.
What do you mean compromised?
Gabriel, answer me.
You do not disappear on me now.
I need confirmation. Immediately.
Do you have access to the system?
The most frightening message sits at the bottom, sent last night.
You have forty-eight hours. Produce the key or I send everything.
The words land hard, heavy with threat.
The emails will contain everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve hidden. Everything that would burn through the people in the next room without mercy.
When I took on the assignment, I not only agreed to freedom once completed, I agreed to the fact that Sera would expose my entire career to the world if I failed.
International leaders would know who made their delegates met their fate.
Families of the world’s elite would know who killed their brothers or fathers.
I would be a dead man walking with nowhere to hide.
My grip tightens around the phone, the edges pressing into my palm. For a moment, everything inside me goes still.
Then it all crashes at once.
Sera, the mission, and the lie.
Then I think of them.
Lars, Neomi, and the life and love I want so fucking badly.
I close my eyes, forcing a slow breath in, then out, pushing the chaos back into something I can contain. I realize that the choice is easy.
I need to tell them everything.
I know deep down that if I have the slightest chance at love, that means more than the freedom I could earn by handing over the Key. I would rather take the fall than have this family’s business be torn to shreds by a makeshift Robinhood vigilante.
Consequences be damned, I have to come clean.