Chapter 2 - THE MOB BOSS'S REVENGE: "If You Touch a Single Hair on Her Head, New York Will Burn!"
The penthouse of the Moretti Tower hung over Manhattan like a glass castle. From here, the city looked like a circuit board of gold and white lights, beautiful and entirely cold.
Gabriel stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a glass of amber scotch untouched in his hand. Behind him, a private doctor was finishing up with Sarah. The thin cut on her cheek had been cleaned and closed with a liquid bandage that would leave no scar.
"She’s fine, Don Moretti," the doctor said, packing his bag. "Just shock. And exhaustion. She hasn't been sleeping or eating properly."
"Thank you, Dr. Evans. Marco will see you out."
Once the door clicked shut, the silence returned. Sarah sat on the edge of a massive Italian leather sofa, looking tiny and completely out of place against the minimalist, expensive decor. She had been given a clean grey cashmere sweater to replace her stained uniform, and she was clutching a mug of tea as if it were a lifeline.
"My mother died three months ago," Sarah said suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet. She didn't look at him; she kept her eyes on the steam rising from her mug. "In a public hospital in Brooklyn. She had dementia. By the end, she didn't even know my name. But she kept talking about the 'Wolf.' She kept telling me that the wolf would protect me if the hunters ever found us."
Gabriel walked over and sat on the armchair opposite her. He didn't lean back; he kept his hands clasped between his knees, his posture alert, respectful, and intensely focused.
"Do you know what that locket is, Sarah?"
"It’s just a locket. There's a picture of her when she was young inside. And some numbers engraved on the back of the frame, but they're too small to read. I thought it was just a serial number or something."
Gabriel felt a cold thrill run down his spine. Numbers.
"Twenty years ago," Gabriel began, his voice low and rhythmic, "the city of New York was run by a man named Vincent Lupo. He was the Don of Dons. He didn't just control the docks and the unions; he controlled the state senate. He had a vault. The old-timers called it the 'Lupo Reserve.' It was rumored to hold over ten billion dollars in gold bullion, bearer bonds, and—more importantly—the ledger of every bribe, every dirty secret, and every assassination order ever paid for by the ruling class of this country."
Sarah stared at him, her lips parted. "I... I don't understand. What does that have to do with my mother?"
"Your mother was Elena Lupo," Gabriel said softly. "Vincent’s youngest sister. When the Lupo estate was attacked and burned to the ground, everyone assumed she died in the fire. My father was blamed for the attack. But he always maintained that someone else had ordered the hit—someone who wanted the ledger more than the money."
Before Sarah could respond, the heavy oak doors of the penthouse burst open.
Marco stepped in first, his hand on his holster, but he was pushed aside by a tall, older man with silver hair and a face lined with decades of ruthless political maneuvering.
Senator Julian Harrington. Victoria’s father.
"Gabriel!" the Senator roared, his voice echoing off the glass walls. "What is the meaning of this? My daughter came home in hysterics, claiming you called off the wedding and threatened our family! Over a waitress?"
Gabriel did not stand up. He didn't even turn his head. He slowly took a sip of his scotch, let the warmth of it settle in his throat, and then set the glass down.
"Your daughter committed an assault in a public restaurant, Julian," Gabriel said, his voice dangerously calm. "She embarrassed herself. And she embarrassed me."
"She is a Harrington!" the Senator hissed, stepping further into the room. Then, his eyes fell on Sarah sitting on the sofa. His breath caught. His gaze traveled from her face down to her neck, where the silver locket hung openly.
For a fraction of a second, the Senator’s eyes widened with pure, naked terror.
It was a look Gabriel had spent a lifetime learning to read. It was the look of a man who had just seen a ghost rise from its grave.
"You..." the Senator whispered, his face losing its color. "It can't be."
"You recognize her, Julian?" Gabriel asked, standing up slowly. He walked over to Sarah, placing a protective hand on the back of the sofa behind her. "Or perhaps you recognize the locket? The one your family spent twenty years trying to find?"
"Gabriel, you don't know what you're doing," Senator Harrington said, his voice shaking now, losing its booming political confidence. "This girl... she is dangerous. She is a threat to everyone in this city. If the others find out she is alive—"
"The others?" Gabriel laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "You mean the syndicate board? The politicians you buy with Moretti money? Let them find out. Let them know that the rightful heir to the New York underworld is sitting in my living room."
"She is a dead girl walking!" Harrington shouted. "And if you stand by her, you will burn with her!"
May you like
Gabriel took a step forward, his eyes locking onto the Senator’s with lethal intensity.
"Listen to me carefully, Julian," Gabriel whispered, the words dripping like venom. "If you, your daughter, or anyone in your pocket so much as looks in her direction, I will not just call in your debts. I will dismantle your entire legacy brick by brick. I will make sure the Harrington name is wiped from every building, every historical record, and every grave in this state. If you touch a single hair on her head, New York will burn. And you will be the first one in the fire."
