Chapter 20 Gabriel
Gabriel
Alliance territory runs on old money and older rules, the kind that make even the streets feel like a warning.
The tires hum on spotless pavement, like the city scrubs itself clean so nobody sees what it buries.
Stone buildings. Iron gates. Cameras hidden behind taste.
Pretty on the outside, built for control underneath.
We pull into the strip between our territories, one of the few places Cassio and I can meet without blood in the street and cameras catching it.
My men are tight around us, two cars and two shadows, eyes on the rooftops.
Savannah sits beside me in the back seat, posture rigid, fingers wrapped around the panic device.
She looks out the window like she expects hands to come through the glass.
I hate that I understand it. I don’t blame her.
Cassio doesn’t forgive weakness. He just files it away and uses it later.
The SUV stops. Juan opens my door first. I step out and cold air hits my lungs. I turn and open Savannah’s door. I hold out my hand.
She stares at it for a beat, then places her fingers in mine. Cold. Shaking. But she is standing. She is here. That matters.
Juan moves ahead, clearing the walkway. Alliance guards line the perimeter, Italian men with weapons hidden beneath expensive suits. Their eyes go to Savannah first, then to me, then back to her, I step slightly in front of her, blocking the view.
We enter. The building smells like cigars and expensive wood and old blood that never truly washed out. It’s polished. Beautiful. Still rotten.
* * *
Cassio is already inside. He stands at the center of the room like it belongs to him, because it does. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t greet us. He just looks at Savannah.
“Are you hurt,” he asks her.
Savannah’s throat tightens. Her mouth opens. No sound. I feel her freeze beside me like her body wants to disappear again. Cassio’s gaze flicks to me, sharp.
“She can answer,” he says.
I don’t take my eyes off him. “She’s fine,” I answer.
Cassio’s mouth tightens. “I asked her.”
I step closer to the table, “She answers when she wants.”
The air in the room shifts instantly. Italian guards shift. My men shift. Both sides prepared to strike at any moment. Cassio holds my gaze for a long moment, then looks back at Savannah again, voice flat.
“Speak.”
Savannah’s fingers tighten around mine. I can feel the tremor through our grip. I tilt my head slightly toward her, low enough only she hears.
“Look at me,” I murmur.
She turns her eyes to mine. Wide. Terrified.
“Breathe with me,” I say. “In my rhythm.”
In. Out.
Her chest rises. Falls. Then again. Her lips part and she forces words out.
“I’m hurt,” she says quietly. “But I’m here.”
Cassio’s eyes narrow. “That’s not an answer.”
Savannah’s chin lifts a fraction, a tiny spark. “I’m not dead.”
Silence. Heavy silence. Cassio’s gaze sharpens like he did not expect that.
Good.
Savannah is learning how to be strong.
Cassio finally shifts his attention to me. “Alliance route was hit.”
“I know.”
“My men think yours did it.”
I lean forward slightly. “Your men are wrong.”
Cassio’s eyes flicker. “Then who.”
“Carson.”
Cassio’s expression tightens. He dosen’t know the name, but he understands the concept.
“A traitor,” Cassio says.
“Yes. Inside my cartel. Funded by Russians.”
Cassio’s eyes go colder. “Mikhail.”
“His people,” I answer. “And someone else.”
Cassio’s head tilts. “Someone else.”
I glance at Savannah for a flicker, then back to him. “Your pressure fed the cover,” I say. “And your men are leaking the rumor too fast.”
Cassio’s mouth tightens. “Careful.”
I step closer. “I don’t care about your pride right now. I care about the leak.”
Cassio’s eyes flash. “Are you accusing me.”
I don’t blink. “I’m accusing your men. Someone close to you benefits from this treaty failing.”
Cassio’s nostrils flare. He doesn’t like being told his house has a traitor. He doesn’t like being reminded he is not God. But he knows I am right, because the only reason Carson hit an Alliance route is to force Cassio’s hand.
Cassio’s voice drops, sharp. “What do you want.”
“I want joint action,” I say. “You get your men. I get mine. We cut the Russian line off at the throat.”
Cassio’s gaze narrows. “And what does the cartel give up.”
Here it is. The price. Because peace is always paid for with something real.
I glance at Savannah again. She is watching us both, fear right there, but she is holding it. I turn back to Cassio.
“I give you shared access to a route,” I say.
Cassio’s eyes sharpen. “Which route.”
“The Gulf dock corridor.”
A ripple moves through the Italians. That corridor is money. Product. Power. It’s not a small offer.
Cassio’s mouth tightens in satisfaction he tries not to show. “That’s generous.”
“It’s not generosity,” I correct. “It’s insurance.”
Cassio leans forward, voice cold. “And what stops you from taking it back later.”
I hold his gaze. “My name.”
Cassio’s eyes flick to Savannah, then back. “And her. She stops you.”
The implication is clear. A woman is weakness.
Savannah stiffens beside me. I squeeze her hand once under the table.
“She’s not my weakness,” I say. “She’s the reason I’m about to end this.”
Cassio studies me, then says it. “You’re in love.”
The room goes still. Savannah’s breath stops. My men tense. Cassio’s men watch like they are waiting for me to deny it.
I do not.
“Yes,” I say.
Savannah’s fingers tighten around mine. Cassio’s mouth tightens. “That makes you predictable.”
“No,” I say. “It makes me ruthless.”
Cassio’s gaze locks on mine. He believes me, because he knows what love looks like in men like us. Love is not softness. Love is a decision to destroy anything that threatens what you have claimed.
Cassio taps the table once. “Fine. Joint action.”
Then his eyes sharpen again. “But you will answer for the hit on my route.”
“I will answer,” I say. “By giving you the dock corridor access, and by giving you Carson.”
Cassio’s eyes narrow. “Alive.”
“Yes.”
Cassio’s gaze slides to Savannah. “And her. She stays here.”
My blood goes cold. Savannah goes still beside me. Fear spikes so fast it’s visible.
No.
Cassio is not keeping her. Cassio doesn’t get to lock her in a room and call it protection.
I lean forward slowly, voice tight and lethal. “No.”
Cassio’s eyes narrow. “She’s Alliance blood.”
“She’s my wife.”
Cassio’s jaw flexes. “You don’t own her.”
The irony almost makes me laugh. Cassio pretending morality. Cassio pretending ownership is offensive. But this is not about morality. It’s about access. Cassio wants her in his building because it gives him control over me.
I look at Savannah. Pale. Wide eyes. Waiting for men to decide her fate again. I hate it.
“She leaves with me,” I say.
Cassio’s voice turns sharp. “If she leaves, she gets hit again, and you’ll blame me.”
“I’ll blame the man who tries,” I answer. “And then I’ll burn whoever funded him.”
Cassio’s eyes flash. “Your pride will kill her.”
I lean closer. “I am not proud. I am prepared.”
Cassio stares at me for a long moment. He is calculating, because he knows if he pushes this too far, the room turns into a bloodshed.
Cassio exhales slowly. “Fine. She goes.”
Then he adds, low, “But if she dies, I slit your throat.”
I nod once. “Fair.”
Savannah’s fingers loosen slightly around mine like she just realized she was holding her breath.
Cassio turns his gaze to her again, voice flat. “Stop being silent. It makes you look weak.”
Savannah’s jaw tightens. Then she speaks, quiet but clear.
“I’m not weak.”
Cassio’s eyes narrow. “Prove it.”
Savannah’s throat works. She glances at me. I don’t speak. I don’t rescue her. I let her choose.
She faces Cassio again. Her voice shakes, but it holds.
“Your men called me names,” she says. “And his men tried to take me. That doesn’t make me weak. That makes me hunted.”
The room tightens. Cassio’s gaze sharpens.
“So if you want the treaty to hold,” she continues, breath trembling, “you stop using me as a bargaining chip. And you start using me as a reason to retaliate.”
Cassio stares at her like he is seeing her differently. Not as broken. As dangerous.
Good.
Cassio finally nods once. “Fine.”
Then his eyes cut to me. “You heard your wife. Do your job.”
I nod once. “I will.”
The meeting ends, but the war just shifted.
* * *
We leave Alliance territory under heavier guard than we arrived with. Cassio will honor the agreement, not out of kindness, but out of strategy and pride. And because if Savannah gets taken, the Italians look weak too.
In the SUV, Savannah sits stiff beside me again. Her hands are shaking. Her eyes stare straight ahead like if she looks left or right the world will reach in. I place my hand on her thigh.
She flinches once, then steadies.
I lean in, voice low. “You spoke.”
Her lips part. “I didn’t want to,” she whispers.
I nod. “You did anyway.”
Her throat works, then she asks what I expected.
“Are you angry.”
I look at her. “No. I’m proud.”
Her eyes flicker. Pride is unfamiliar to her. Praise feels like bait. I don’t push it.
My phone buzzes. Luca.
I answer without looking away from the road. “Talk.”
Luca’s voice is tight. “We found Carson’s contact. Russian handler. Name’s Viktor.”
My jaw tightens. “Where.”
Luca hesitates half a beat. “Viktor is moving. We just got a ping. He’s heading toward your compound.”
My blood goes cold, because my compound is not just walls. My compound is where Savannah sleeps. Where she breathes. Where she is starting to believe a click means safety.
I look at Savannah. Her eyes are already on me, reading the shift.
“What,” she whispers.
I keep my voice low. “Viktor is coming.”
Her breath catches. And in that moment, I know exactly what the next cost will be. Because if Viktor reaches my compound, it will not be a rope this time.
It will be fire.