Chapter 48 Gabriel
Gabriel
Two stages. Two predators. One church.
Cassio calling a sit down at the church Sergei is moving toward is not random. It is control. He is trying to manage this before I can expose it in public.
I walk out of the sitting room with Savannah behind me. She is holding her real diary tight against her chest like it is a heartbeat. Her shoulders are tense, but her chin is lifted, and that matters.
Luca meets me in the hall, phone still in his hand like it is fused to his palm. “Cassio just texted the council,” he says. “He’s calling in Italians and cartel witnesses. He wants it public. Noon.”
“Sergei,” I ask.
Luca glances down. “He’s en route. Two vehicles. Small tail.”
Good. He thinks Savannah is obedient and afraid. He thinks I will drag her into a church to prove I own her. He thinks wrong.
Juan appears beside us, quiet and hard. “Your call,” he says. “We stop Cassio or we use him.”
I look past them to Savannah, because she is the one piece that changes the whole game. She meets my eyes and doesn’t speak. Her fingers press her pendant once.
I lower my voice. “Savannah, I need your consent again.”
Her breath catches, tiny, but she nods. “Yes,” she whispers.
keep my voice even. “Cassio is going to try to make you stand there for all of them,” I tell her. “He’ll call it protection. He’ll call it family. He’ll call it responsibility.”
Her throat tightens. “I said no.”
“I know,” I say. “And I’ll enforce it. But it will get loud.”
Her eyes flicker with readiness, not panic. “I can handle loud,” she says quietly. “I can’t handle being grabbed.”
My jaw tightens. “You won’t be,” I promise.
Not romance. Law.
I glance at Juan. “Set the perimeter. No Italians within ten feet of her. Not Cassio’s men. Not mine. Only Rafa, if she allows it.”
Juan nods once and moves.
I look at Luca. “Track Sergei. If he diverts, I want it before he turns the wheel.”
“Already pinging,” Luca answers.
Then I turn back to Savannah and drop my voice until it is only for her. “You will not go to church,” I say. “But you will be seen.”
Her shoulders tighten. “Seen how,” she whispers.
“From distance,” I say. “A balcony. A window. A silhouette. Enough for Sergei to believe you’re there. Not close enough to touch.”
Her grip tightens on the diary. “It still feels like a stage.”
“It is,” I admit.
Then I give her the only part that matters. “Except you control it.”
Her eyes search mine like she is looking for a trap in my face. “How.”
I step closer but do not touch. “Because you already said no to the part that matters,” I tell her. “No one touches your diary. No one touches your body. No one uses your voice without your permission.”
Her breathing is shallow, but she nods once. “Yes,” she whispers.
I start moving through the house. Men fall into formation. Boots stay quiet on wood. Radios stay low.
Rafa appears at the corridor intersection. “Vehicles ready,” he says. “Route options set.”
“We’re not going straight,” I tell him. “We’re splitting.”
Rafa’s brow lifts.
“Decoy convoy goes church,” I say. “Real convoy moves Savannah to the overlooking property.”
Savannah’s eyes widen slightly. “Overlooking property,” she repeats.
“A safe house across the street,” I tell her. “Second-floor line of sight. Thick glass. Hard exit.”
Her throat works. “And Cassio,” she whispers.
I do not lie. “Cassio will think you’re with me,” I say. “Because he wants to believe you still answer to him.”
Her fingers press her pendant again. “And if he sees I’m not.”
“He won’t,” I say. “Not until it is done.”
Her breath catches. “This is a trap inside a trap.”
“Yes.”
I watch her swallow hard, then I lower my voice. “But you are not the one taking the hit here,” I say. “You are the reason this works.”
Her eyes sting. She blinks hard. Then she nods. “Okay,” she whispers.
We move. I keep Savannah behind the internal security line so no one brushes her, no one blocks her path, and no one touches her.
The air changes as we near the front entry. Cologne. Leather. Italian energy. Polished control like they think they own the air.
Cassio is there, dressed for a performance. Suit. Collar. His men behind him, sharp-eyed, ready to prove something.
He steps forward when we approach. His gaze snaps to Savannah immediately, then to her diary, then back to her face. His jaw tightens.
“Savannah,” he says. “You’re coming with me.”
Her shoulders tense. I feel it without touching her.
I step half a pace forward. “She’s not,” I say evenly.
Cassio’s eyes flare. “This meeting is for her safety.”
“It is for what you want everyone to believe,” I reply.
Cassio’s nostrils flare. “Do not do this. Not today.”
Savannah speaks before I can. Quiet. Clear. “No,” she says.
That second no hits harder than the first, because it is not a flinch. It is a pattern.
Cassio’s expression tightens like he is not used to a woman being consistent. “You’re making a mistake,” he says.
Savannah’s hands tremble slightly around the diary, but her voice stays steady. “I’m making a choice,” she says.
Cassio turns his eyes to me like he wants to rip me apart with a look. “You’re poisoning her.”
Savannah answers without looking away from him. “He’s not,” she says. “He’s listening.”
For a second, Cassio’s face cracks, lost, like that sentence doesn’t compute. Then his jaw locks again.
“Gonzalez,” he says coldly, “if you embarrass the Alliance in a church.”
“I won’t,” I cut in. “Because my wife isn’t stepping inside it.”
Cassio’s eyes flash. “My sister will.”
Savannah doesn’t raise her voice. “No,” she repeats.
Cassio steps closer, not to hit, to intimidate. I move between them. Cassio stops, because crossing that line becomes war inside my walls.
His voice drops, softer. “Savannah,” he says. “Please.”
The word hits her like a strange sound. Cassio doesn’t say please.
Savannah’s throat tightens. Her eyes flicker, then she steadies. “Not today,” she whispers.
Cassio’s face goes rigid. He looks at me. “You’re going to regret this.”
I do not blink. “Maybe,” I say. “But she won’t.”
Cassio turns sharply. “Move,” he barks.
The Italian convoy starts moving outside, engines loud in the yard. He thinks he is going to that meeting without her. He thinks he can still control how this looks.
He is wrong.
Because I am letting him go. I am letting him gather witnesses. I am letting him bring the council. I am letting him set it all up
He doesn’t know it yet, but Cassio is about to help me burn the right man.
Rafa appears at my side. “Savannah now,” he says.
I nod, then look at Savannah. Her eyes are bright with contained panic, but her feet are planted.
I lower my voice. “Now we split,” I tell her.
Her throat moves. “Will I be alone.”
“No,” I say. “Two women guards. Rafa. And you keep your diary.”
Her breath shakes. She nods. “Okay.”
Two women step into the hall. Professional. Quiet. Eyes down until Savannah looks at them.
One speaks softly. “Mrs. Gonzalez. We’ll stay close. No touching unless you ask.”
Savannah’s eyes flicker. She nods once. “Okay,” she whispers again.
I step close enough that only she hears me. “I’m going to church,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “But not for you,” I add.
She exhales. “You’re bait,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“And Sergei.”
“Will come to verify,” I say. “He wants proof. He wants your diary. He wants your fear.”
Her fingers tighten around the diary.
“He gets a fake picture,” I say.
“And if he comes for me anyway.”
I do not lie. “Then we end him,” I say.
Her eyes sting. She nods once. Then she whispers, small and real, “Be careful.”
It hits harder than any vow, because she doesn’t say it like a hostage. She says it like a wife who chose.
I keep my voice low. “I always am,” I tell her. Then I add the truth. “But for you, I’m more.”
Her breath catches. Her lips part like she wants to say something. She doesn’t. She just nods once, and she lets the women guide her away down the back corridor.
I watch her disappear around the corner.
Then I turn toward the front door, toward Cassio’s stage, toward Sergei’s greed.
Luca appears beside me, phone up. “Sergei is two minutes from the church,” he says.
Juan steps in, expression hard. “It’s crowded,” he warns. “Cassio brought half the city.”
I slide my jacket on. Adjust my cuff. Check my weapon.
Then I give my men one order. “No mistakes,” I say quietly.
And I step outside into the cold.
Because if Sergei wants a church, I’ll give him one.
But he’s going to leave it missing pieces.