16. Gabriel
Nobody but one of my guards notices me when I enter the penthouse.
For a moment, I just stand there and watch Audra and her mom sitting on the couch.
Stacy is clutching one of the cats like it's the only thing keeping her together.
The animal looks just as overwhelmed as she does, wide-eyed, frozen in place.
Stacy is crying. Soft at first. Then louder.
"Oh my poor, poor Pete," she sobs, rocking slightly. "What is happening? What is happening to us?"
Audra sits beside her, one hand on her back, the other gripping her own knee like she's holding herself together by force. "I don't know."
Her voice is filled with unspoken emotion.
With grief she's still trying to process and is unable to let out.
Comforting her mother, who should be her anchor right now.
She looks different, not just from the bruises.
Something under the surface looks harder.
Stacy pulls back, still clutching the cat.
"What is going to happen?" she demands through tears. "Audra, when can we go home?"
Audra exhales slowly, like even that costs her. "I don't know." Frustration laces into her voice. "We'll have to wait… the cartel… these men are ruthless."
I shouldn't be standing here. Listening.
But I can't help it. Audra fascinates me on levels I don't fully understand.
It was easier when she was at a distance.
A camera feed. A passing glance. Something I could observe without consequence.
Now that she's here—in my space, on my couch—she fits. Too well.
Like she was always meant to be here. That thought should bother me. It doesn't. Did I want her to get hurt? No. The answer comes fast. Immediate. Unquestionable.
But Pete? I wouldn't have touched him. Not unless he stepped out of line. Not unless he gave me a reason. But I won't pretend I didn't want him gone. That I didn't think about it. More than once.
Now that he's gone?
She's here. With me.
A dangerous kind of inevitability settles in my chest. Fate.
I don't believe in it. Never have. Men like me don't leave things up to chance.
We take. We decide. We make things happen.
Still, this feels like something that was always going to end here.
With her in my world. Under my roof. Within reach.
I'm not letting her go. Not now. Not after this. Not ever.
Not after seeing what happens when she's out there without me.
My gaze shifts to her mother. Fragile. Unraveling. Clutching that animal like it's the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. A liability. And a chain. A responsibility Audra will never walk away from.
My mother wasn't like that. She was soft, but never weak.
Always there. Always steady. A quiet kind of strength that held our house together while my father ruled everything outside it.
She knew what he was. What I was becoming.
She didn't try to stop it. Didn't try to make me something I wasn't. She just made sure I knew the difference between control and chaos.
Between cruelty and purpose. Between taking… and destroying.
My father taught me how to survive in this world. My mother made sure I didn't turn into something mindless inside it.
Standing here, watching a woman who gives everything she has to someone who will only ever take more, I see something I don't understand. Something that ties Audra down. Something I will have to work around. Because one way or another, she's not leaving my world again.
"There has to be a reason why he was there," her mother snaps. Then a little quieter. "Maybe he had something to do with it."
A chuckle escapes me. I'm sure the he she's referring to is me.
Audra looks at her, and something on her face tells me they already had that conversation.
"I don't know," she admits, quieter now. "I don't know anything right now."
Her voice cracks just slightly on the last word. She presses her lips together. Swallows it down. Always holding it together. Even now. That's when I move. Step fully into the room.
"There you are," she says immediately, like she felt me before she saw me.
Her eyes lock onto mine. And just like that, the grief shifts into anger. I step fully into the living area. Taking her in. She's on her feet now, pacing like a caged animal. Her hair a mess, her eyes red, her face bruised. Despite all that, she's still beautiful. Fucking devastating.
"Why did you take me away from there?"
I don't answer immediately. I just look at her, unable to take my eyes off her. Still stuck on the thought that she's here. In my penthouse. My space. Like she always belonged here.
"You had no right," she continues. Her voice wavers, but it's not breaking. "The police—what are they going to think? That I ran? That I'm guilty?"
"They're going to think whatever they're told to think," I reply calmly.
"That's not an answer!" she fires back.
Her hands are shaking. Her whole body is. But she doesn't back down. I stop a few feet in front of her.
"It is," I state evenly.
Her eyes flash.
"I need to go back," she insists. "I need to tell them what happened. Pete—" Her voice cracks on his name.
The grief is back. Raw. Bleeding through the anger. I cut in before she can spiral. "You're not going anywhere."
The words land like a gunshot. Silence follows. Her mother gasps softly behind her. Audra just stares at me.
"Excuse me?" she puts her fists against her hips, her chest heaving.
I force myself to stay focused. On her face. Not the rest of her. Not the way being this close to her is starting to feel like a physical need. Like something under my skin, pushing, demanding. Not now.
I hold her gaze. "The men who took you? That wasn't random."
That doesn't surprise her. I see it immediately. No confusion. No denial. Just… something dark settling deeper behind her eyes.
"I know," she admits. Her voice is different. Quieter. Colder.
I'm not sure what she thinks she knows, so I clarify, "They were after your husband."
She doesn't blink, doesn't flinch. "Thank you. I figured that out." A beat passes. I watch as her posture tenses. "They asked him questions. About accounts. Money."
Her voice is devoid of hysteria and without a trace of panic.
She's just stating facts. She's displaying the same unsettling calm I saw her wearing in the warehouse.
I study her for a moment. Most people break after what she went through.
She didn't. She's still standing. Still thinking.
Still putting pieces together. She watches me like she's weighing how much to give me.
It would be almost amusing if it weren't so damn disturbing. That look in her eyes… I've seen it before. In men who stopped being afraid of consequences.
I see the moment she decides. "Pete was working on a transaction through the bank.
Some people wanted to buy property, but he's…
" she drifts for a moment, something flickers across her face, then she pulls herself back together.
"He was like a dog with a bone. He couldn't leave it alone.
The clients were qualified, but he kept digging…
I think he dug into the wrong accounts."
I nod once. She knows. Not everything. But enough. "Then you understand why you're not walking out that door."
Her eyes snap to mine. There it is. That fire I saw at the police station.
"You can't keep us prisoner," she states.
"They don't know what he told you," I continue, ignoring her words. "They don't know what you saw."
Her breathing picks up. Awareness reflects in her eyes. "They will assume you know something," I finish. "And men like that don't take chances."
I let that sit. Let it sink in.
"And you what?" her mother snaps suddenly. "You're just going to protect us out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Mom," Audra warns sharply.
I turn my attention to Stacy Connor. Up close, she looks even smaller than she did from a distance. Too thin. Too tense. Her eyes dart between me and the door like she's planning an escape she won't survive.
"Something like that," I confirm.
Her mom lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Men like you don't do anything out of the goodness of your heart."
I tilt my head slightly. "Men like me?"
Her chin lifts, despite the tremor in her hands. "Dangerous men," she clarifies. "Possessive. The kind who thinks they can buy people and call it protection."
Audra closes her eyes briefly. "Mom, stop."
But Stacy doesn't. She leans forward instead, clutching the cat tighter. "What do you want from her?" she demands. "From us?"
There it is. The real question. I shift my gaze back to Audra.
"Right now? I want you alive." I hold Audra's gaze. Long enough that her breath catches just slightly.
The silence that follows is heavy and charged. Stacy scoffs, but there's less bite to it now.
"Why? Who are you? Why were you at the warehouse? Why did you save me? Bring us here? And who are they?" Audra demands.
I don't answer right away. Not because I don't have them, but because I have too many, and none of the ones she's asking for are the ones I'm willing to give. Instead, I step closer. Not enough to crowd her. Just enough to remind her who controls this space.
"They are cartel," I offer that much, hoping it'll be enough to scare her off.
She narrows her eyes at me, waiting. With a sigh, I add, "They're not street thugs. Not idiots with guns and something to prove. They're organized. Patient. And when someone gets in their way—" I let that hang for a second "—they don't stop at one body."
Her mother makes a small sound at that. Audra doesn't.
"They don't care about collateral," I continue. "Wives. Families. Anyone connected. If there's even a chance you know something…" I hold her gaze. "They eliminate the risk."