50. Gabriel
I'm still humming with her when I step out of the bedroom, skin warm, cock half-hard again just from the memory of how she felt wrapped around me this morning, slow and sweet and mine. The taste of her is still on my tongue. The sound of her saying my name like a prayer is still ringing in my ears.
Brick is waiting in the antechamber, arms crossed, expression tight. Louie stands a few feet away, nodding once in greeting.
"Extra vigilant today," I tell Brick, keeping my voice low. "I've got a bad feeling about this whole thing. Salazar walking in like this doesn't sit right."
Brick nods, jaw set. "Agreed, boss. Louie and I have already doubled the floor team. Nobody gets past us."
Louie echoes it. "Nobody gets past us, boss."
"Good." I clap Brick on the shoulder once, hard. "Keep them safe. Especially her."
I head for the private elevator. The doors slide open. Just before they close, Brick calls out, "He didn't say why he wanted to talk. Only that it had to be you. Face to face."
I pause, one foot holding the door. This smells like a trap. None of this makes sense. "He knows I'm going to kill him, right?"
Brick's mouth twists into a grim smile. "Looks as resigned to it as any motherfucker I've ever seen."
Our eyes meet. We both know what that means. The Collector. Only he can put the kind of fear into a man that will make him walk straight into the lion's den and willingly bare his throat.
The elevator doors close. I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, mind already turning. Why the fuck would Salazar do this? What does the Collector want that's worth sacrificing one of his own pieces so openly? It's too clean. Too obvious. A trap wrapped in a white flag.
The ride down feels too long.
When the doors open on the secure basement level, I'm already in work mode, cold, focused, lethal.
Brick was right. Salazar is sitting in one of the holding cells, hands cuffed in front of him, shoulders slumped.
He doesn't look defiant. He looks like a man who already knows how this ends.
He lifts his head when I step in front of the bars.
"D'Amato," he says quietly. No bravado. Just exhaustion.
I don't waste time. "Talk."
Salazar nods once, slow and heavy, the look of a man who already knows he's on borrowed time.
His shoulders are slumped, eyes flat. No fight left.
"The Collector sent me to tell you a story," he says quietly.
"About a man who betrayed his own family.
Killed indiscriminately to take power. And about the men who helped him do it.
Those men wiped out the Collector's entire family.
Every. Single. One." He pauses, letting the words settle like lead in the air.
"But they made a mistake. And that mistake has come back to collect. Starting with you."
I don't move. Don't speak. Just wait. Salazar's eyes flick to the camera in the corner again, then back to me. "He wants to know if you received his gifts."
"Gifts?" I echo. The tape. Yes. But that's all I can figure out that would count as a gift. Not gifts.
Salazar shrugs, like none of this is his problem anymore. "I don't know what he means. But he said in that story… one of the men's sisters was killed. She paid the price for her brother's betrayal. But before she died, she had a kid."
My blood turns to ice. Catarina. The kid. Damiano's son. The boy we pulled out of that motel room a week ago. Rage explodes behind my eyes, white-hot, blinding.
"That fucking shit," I growl, low and lethal. "I'm going to kill him. I'll skin him alive and dunk him in acid."
Salazar laughs, a dry, broken sound. "I hope you win, D'Amato. But my money is unfortunately on the Collector. He always wins."
Ice slides down my spine. Not because he knows. Because suddenly I realize he wanted us to know. Every piece clicks into place. The motel. The girl. Skinny. The breadcrumbs. None of it was hidden. It was staged. A gift.
A trail leading straight to the boy. The Collector didn't fail to find Catarina's son. He handed him to us.
Why?
Before I can answer my own question, I'm already reaching for my phone. Damiano picks up on the first ring.
"Keep the kid close," I snap. "Do not let him out of your sight."
Damiano doesn't hesitate. "What happened?"
"The Collector knows exactly who he is."
Damiano's voice drops. "You think he's coming for him?"
I stare at Salazar. At the blunt truth in his eyes.
"No," I say slowly. "I think he already did."
I take a deep breath. I will not lose my nephew. I will not fail Catarina again. "Keep an eye on him. Take them somewhere safe, now."
"On it," Damiano doesn't ask questions. He knows the tone.
Without warning, the phone explodes in my hand with notifications, texts, and missed calls, lighting up the screen like a fucking fireworks show. Before I can make sense of it, the basement door slams open.
Kale storms in, face pale, breathing hard. Blood on his shirt.
"They killed Brick," he calls. "They have Audra."
The world stops. Everything—Salazar, the Collector, Catarina's kid, the story, the gifts—vanishes. All I hear is Audra. They have Audra.
My Audra.
Rage and terror slam into me at once, so hard my vision tunnels.
My chest caves in like someone took a sledgehammer to it.
I can't breathe. Can't think. The only thing left in my head is her face this morning, soft, flushed, looking up at me while I told her I loved her.
The way she kissed me before I left. The way she said Be careful.
And now she's gone. Taken. While I was down here listening to fairy tales from a dead man walking. Damiano's voice crackles from the phone I'm still clutching. "What the fuck is going on? Gabe?"
I don't answer him. I can't. My hand is shaking. Actually shaking. I hang up on him without a word, shove the phone in my pocket, and look at Kale.
"Where?"
My voice doesn't sound like mine. It's raw.
Gutted. Kale starts to explain, the bloodbath upstairs, the shootout in the casino, Louie turning, but I'm already moving, gun in my hand, blood roaring in my ears.
They took her. They fucking took her. Whoever did it is going to die screaming for it.
I don't care if it's the Collector himself.
I don't care if it costs me everything. Audra is mine.
And I'm coming for her. Right fucking now.
Kale's words are still ringing in my ears.
They killed Brick. They have Audra. When my phone starts vibrating in my pocket like it's trying to drill through bone, I yank it out, expecting Damiano or one of the floor teams. The number is unknown.
Blocked. I answer anyway, my voice ripping through the air like a blade. "Who the fuck is this?"
A low, ugly chuckle comes through the line. "You don't know me, but I have someone who I've been told means something to you."
The video feed flips on. My screen fills with her. Audra. Tied to a metal chair in some filthy back room, blood on her lip and cheek, eyes wide and frantic. She sees me and screams. "Gabe—no! No, don't come! They'll kill you—please, don't do this!"
Something inside my chest rips open. Louie's hand cracks across her face on the feed, hard. Her head snaps sideways. Fresh blood blooms on her lip. I lose it.
"AUDRA!" The roar tears out of me so raw it scrapes my throat bloody. "Touch her again, and I'll skin you alive, you piece of shit! Let her go right fucking now!"
She thrashes against the ties like a wild thing, screaming until her voice cracks. "Gabe, please—don't! Don't come here! They'll kill you!"
Tears are streaming down her face, mixing with the blood.
She's yanking so hard at the zip ties that they cut into her wrists.
My vision tunnels. The basement around me disappears.
All I see is her. All I feel is the black, bottomless terror that she's going to be taken from me the same way Catarina was. Bloody, broken, gone.
My knees almost buckle. The love I confessed to her this morning slams into me like a freight train.
I told her I loved her. Twice. And now some worthless piece of shit has her bleeding and begging me not to come.
I will burn the entire fucking city to ash.
The asshole's voice cuts back in, calm and mocking.
"One hour, D'Amato. Come alone, or she dies screaming. Your choice."
The line goes dead. For one frozen second, the basement is silent except for the ringing in my ears.
Then I explode. The phone explodes against the concrete wall.
I don't remember throwing it. My fist follows, slamming into the cinderblock hard enough to split skin and leave blood on the wall.
Pain doesn't register. Nothing does except the image of her face, terrified, bleeding, begging me to stay away.
I can't lose her. Not her. Not after I finally had her.
Not after she came back to me on her own.
Not after she let me inside her this morning like she was choosing forever.
"Gabe—" Kale sounds wary. Holding out a spare phone. My men know me well enough to keep one handy. This wasn't the first one to find a rough end against the wall.
Kale turns the phone on. The second it's done booting up, it rings. I already know who it is and answer in an icy voice, "You're dead."
Laughter rolls through the line, low, amused.
"Funny," the Collector replies smoothly. "I was just about to tell you the same thing."
My grip tightens until the plastic creaks.
"How did you like my gifts?" He wants to know.
I ignore that remark, having no patience for games, not while hot rage burns through me. "You killed my sister."
After all these years, I finally know who is behind it, and when I'm done with him, there won't be anything left but pieces of flesh and ashes.
"You killed my whole family," he counters.
I file that piece of information away for later. "I'm going to kill you slowly, you fucking piece of shit."
He laughs harder, genuinely delighted. "Does that mean you're going to sacrifice the sweet little Audra?
Because there is only one way she stays alive.
The price is your life. I'll text you the address.
But be warned—come alone. The place is watched.
I won't hesitate to scorch it with everybody inside if you're not alone. "
I snarl a curse. "Start writing your obituary. A few biker losers won't stop me."
"Ah, Gabe," he tsks, almost fondly. "You should have taken my offer when I made it. And by the way… nice try with Damiano, but I think I might prefer Alessio, instead."
The line goes dead.
"Motherfucker."
I immediately dial Alessio's. It rings once, twice—then goes straight to voicemail. Fuck. I try again. Nothing.
"Fucking fuck."
I call Massimo next.
He answers on the first ring. "Gabe?—"
"No time to explain. The Collector's after Alessio. I've tried to call him, but he won't answer. Get him out of there. Now."
I hang up before he can ask questions. My chest is heaving like I just sprinted through hell. Rage and terror are braided so tight I can barely breathe. Audra is in that shithole with Razor's hands on her. Bleeding. Screaming for me not to come.
A ding. The address. I know that place and the area. I've never been inside for long, but a long time ago I made a few deals there. I whirl on Kale with pure venom in my voice.
"Get every man we have. I want eyes on that shithole bar in five minutes, but tell them to stay the fuck back. Nobody moves until I say. I'm going in alone."
Kale opens his mouth, then wisely closes it.
He knows that tone. He knows there's no arguing when I look like this.
I'm already moving toward the armory locker, grabbing extra magazines, a knife, and the compact .
45 I keep for close work. My mind is a storm, Audra's tear-streaked face on that video, the Collector's laugh, Catarina's kid, Alessio.
He wants me to trade my life for hers. Fine. I'll walk in alone. But I'm not leaving that bar without her breathing in my arms. And every single motherfucker who touched her is going to die screaming tonight. Even if I have to burn the whole damn place down with me still inside it.
Kale's face pales. "Boss?—"
"Alone," I snarl, stepping into his space until he's forced to tilt his head back.
"They want me. They get me. I can deal with a fucking biker gang.
And when I walk out of there with her, I'm going to paint the walls with every last one of those motherfuckers.
Starting with Razor. Ending with the fucking Collector. "
My hands are shaking. Not from fear. From the sheer, volcanic need to get to her.
To hold her. To tell her again that I love her, right before I kill every bastard who made her scream.
I turn and start moving, already racking the .
45, chambering a round with a metallic snap that sounds like a promise.
Audra is mine. And I'm coming for her. Even if it costs me everything.