Chapter 4 - The Midnight Confession
The tension in the hallway hung like a guillotine blade. Gianni raised his hands in mock surrender, a chilling smirk playing on his lips.
“Relax, Gabe. I was just welcoming our guest,” Gianni said smoothly, offering Emma a nod that felt more like a threat. “Enjoy your stay, Miss Brooks. The Moretti estate is... full of surprises.”
With that, Gianni turned and walked down the hall, his polished shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble.
Gabriel didn’t relax. His hand remained firmly wrapped around Emma’s arm as he guided her away from the east wing and straight back into the safety of her suite, locking the heavy mahogany door behind them.
“Talk to me,” Gabriel commanded, his voice tight with controlled fury. “What did you hear?”
Emma stood in the center of the room, her chest heaving. She looked into Gabriel’s fierce green eyes and realized she couldn't keep it a secret. If Gianni was willing to murder his own family, he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate her and the twins.
“I heard Marcus and Gianni talking,” Emma whispered, her voice trembling. “They were talking about the hospital monitors at St. Catherine’s. Gabriel... they murdered Isabella.”
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the heavy, suffocating silence before a lightning strike.
Gabriel’s face lost all color. The veins in his neck strained against his collar. For a terrifying second, Emma feared the billionaire would shatter under the weight of the revelation. But instead of breaking, Gabriel radiated a dark, murderous wrath that made the air feel thin.
“Say that again,” Gabriel whispered, his voice dangerously low.
“Gianni admitted it,” Emma said, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on Gabriel’s clenched fist. “He said they tampered with the medical equipment, and that you were too blinded by grief to notice. And... and he said when the time was right, they were going to get rid of me too.”
Gabriel looked down at Emma’s hand resting on his fist. Slowly, his fingers uncurled, and he turned his hand over, clasping hers with a fierce, unbreakable grip.
“They signed their own death warrants,” Gabriel said, the promise of vengeance burning in his eyes.
He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. It was the first time the fearsome mafia boss had shown vulnerability in front of anyone. Emma, surprised by her own instinct, wrapped her arms around his broad back and held him tightly, offering the same comfort she would give a wounded child.
“I won’t let them touch your children, Gabriel,” she whispered against his shoulder.
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Gabriel pulled back, looking down at her with a profound, terrifying devotion. “They won’t just fail to touch my children, Emma. From this moment on, anyone who breathes a word against you answers to me.”
That night, as the snow raged outside the high arched windows of the Manhattan mansion, the professional distance between the billionaire mafia boss and the grieving craft store owner fractured completely.
