The three men moved with an unsettling stillness that silenced the chaotic energy of the tavern instantly. Regulars who had been laughing a second prior suddenly found the condensation on their beer bottles intensely fascinating.

The interior of the Rossi estate was a masterclass in modern minimalism and terrifying wealth. Vaulted ceilings, massive abstract art pieces, and walls of glass framing the churning black sea below created an atmosphere that was breathtaking yet profoundly isolating.

Maeve stood in the center of a massive guest suite—a room larger than her entire apartment building—clutching a silk robe a maid had quietly handed her.

A soft knock echoed at the double doors, and Gabriel stepped inside. He had changed into a simple black turtleneck and trousers, looking less like a fugitive corporate executive and more like a lethal architect of shadows.

"The medical team has cleared you, and your belongings from your apartment are being moved here as we speak," Gabriel said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Moved here?" Maeve turned sharply, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I didn't agree to move into a prison, Gabriel! I have a job! I have a life!"

"Your apartment was raided ten minutes after we left," Gabriel stated flatly, cutting through her protest with chilling precision. "Miller’s men tore it apart. If you had gone back there tonight, you would be sitting in an interrogation room facing twenty years for federal conspiracy."

Maeve swallowed hard, the harsh truth of her situation sinking in like lead. She had nothing left. Her apartment was gone, her job was compromised, and her face was likely plastered across police bulletins.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly, the tough exterior finally fracturing. "You could have left me in that bar. You could have let the cops take me as a scapegoat. Why risk your own people to save a stranger?"

Gabriel pushed off the doorframe, walking slowly across the plush rug until he stood just inches away from her. Up close, his dark eyes were mesmerizing, filled with an intense, burning depth.

"Because my grandfather has not smiled or spoken a genuine word since my mother died twenty years ago," Gabriel whispered, his voice dangerously low. "When he came home last night, he was humming. He told me he met an angel in a grocery store who treated him like a human being, not like a broken old man."

Gabriel reached out, his warm fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. Maeve shivered at his touch, a strange, electric current shooting through her veins.

"You showed him kindness when the rest of the world looked away," Gabriel continued, his gaze locking onto hers. "In my world, Maeve, debts are absolute. But this... this is something else entirely."

Before Maeve could process the raw vulnerability in his tone, a sharp, frantic knock interrupted them. The door swung open, revealing Gabriel’s head of security, breathing heavily.