Page 27 of Obsidian Devotion

All he knows is that I'm the enforcer who taught him how to extract information when all else fails, who showed him the lines we cross so the rest of the family doesn't have to.

The response comes almost immediately:‘Don't hurt her. I'll be there.’

Hours later, I watch from the shadows as Gabriel enters the factory, gun drawn, eyes wild with panic.

He's thinner than when I last saw him, his once-sharp suit hanging loose on his frame. Being on the run hasn't been kind to him.

"Anna!" His voice echoes through the factory. "Baby, are you here?"

I step into the light, keeping my gun trained on him. "Drop the weapon, Gabriel."

He whirls toward me, eyes narrowing in anger. "Where's my daughter?"

"Safe. For now." I gesture to the floor with my gun. "Weapon down. Now."

For a moment, I think he'll fight. Then his shoulders slump, and he places the gun at his feet, kicking it toward me.

"Please, Lorenzo. She's innocent in all this."

"I know." I move forward, retrieving his gun. "That's why she'll go home tonight, unharmed. Unlike the men who died because of your betrayal."

Relief and confusion flashes across his face. "You're... letting her go?"

"I'm not a child killer, Gabriel. My father raised me better than that." I signal to Dante, who appears from a side door with Anna. The girl runs to her father, who clutches her.

"Go with the nice man, baby," Gabriel whispers, kneeling to look his daughter in the eyes. "He's going to take you to Aunt Maria's house, okay? I'll see you soon."

The lie is smooth and practiced. Gabriel knows he's not walking out of here alive. But he manages a smile for his daughter, kissing her forehead before Dante leads her away.

Once she's gone, all pretense falls away. Gabriel straightens, meeting my gaze.

"Let's get this over with."

I almost admire his courage. "Not here." I gesture to the exit with my gun. "We're going somewhere more private."

The drive to Peccato Noir is silent. Gabriel sits in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the city lights as if seeing them for the last time. Which, I suppose, he is.

In the club's basement, I secure him to the steel chair bolted to the floor—the same chair where I've extracted countless confessions, where I've done the family's darkest work so Matteo can keep his hands clean, so father can sleep at night.

"I trusted you," I say finally, removing my suit jacket and rolling up my sleeves. "Trained you. Made you my right hand. And you betrayed me to the feds."

"They have evidence against all of you," Gabriel replies, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead. "Enough to put the entire Bellanti family away for life. Your father will die in prison, Lorenzo. Matteo will never see daylight again and the rest of your family will spend their lives in jail. I'm just the first domino. You can't stop what's coming."

My fist connects with his jaw before I can stop myself. "My father rebuilt this family from nothing. Matteo is guiding it into legitimacy. Who are you to destroy that?" I grip his chin, forcing him to look at me. "As long as I breathe, no one touches my family."

I leave him there, instructions clear to my men: guard him, keep him alive, wait for my return. Tomorrow, I'll extract every piece of information about what he's told the authorities, who his contacts are, and what evidence might still be out there. Then I'll decide his fate.

For now, I need a drink and a clear head to process everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours and the nagging suspicion about Sofia that I can't quite silence.

Tomorrow, I'll get answers.

From Gabriel.

And from Sofia.

If I've failed the family because of her, there will be no forgiveness—not from my father, not from Matteo, and certainly not from myself.

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