Page 97 of Thunder's Reckoning
I turned, eyes blazin’. “He laid hands on my family.”
“And he’ll pay,” Devil said, unshaken. “Every mile, every man, every drop of blood, it’ll be his. But we do it smart, or we lose ’em for good.”
Silence stretched thick.
I forced myself to breathe. To swallow the fire. For now.
But starin’ at that bent, button-eyed bunny, I swore on every drop of blood in me—
I was gonna make Gabrial burn in the flames he worshipped.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
GABRIAL
I ROLLEDup just after midnight, the SUV slidingthrough the gates smooth as a blade. My guards stood on either side of the drive, rifles ready, faces empty. Not men — soldiers. Mine.
The estate stretched wide and dark across the land, its windows burning faint in the night. From a distance it could pass for comfort. Up close, it was nothing but warning.
I stepped out into the damp night air, pine and rain sharp in my lungs. The gravel crunched under my boots, steady. Everysound here belonged to me. That’s how you keep power, you own the silence, you own the air, you own the fear.
Inside, the marble floor gleamed under low light, each step echoing. The house wasn’t built for softness. It was built to remind anyone inside that survival was a privilege, not a right.
Sable and the children were secure. Contained. The flame preserved. My circle unbroken.
Mateo waited at the stairs, shoulders bent. “She’s waiting.”
“She’s waiting.”
“In the office?”
He nodded once.
“Good.”
I pushed the door open, light spilling out in a hard strip across the polished floor.
Leena sat in the middle of it, blouse undone, skirt hiked high on her thighs. She looked like sin dressed up for sale — lipstick thick, hair loose, skin gleaming under the lamplight. She thought she understood the game.
“Gabrial,” she purred, voice dripping sugar. “You’ve kept me waiting.”
I didn’t answer. Just stepped inside and closed the door.
She shifted, crossing her legs slow, showing me exactly what she thought I wanted to see. “You work too hard. A man like you deserves to be taken care of.” Her hand skimmed her neck, down over her chest, pushing fabric aside as though undressing in prayer.
I leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching. Letting her play it out.
“You gave me a job,” she whispered, rising from the chair. Her hips swayed, deliberate, practiced. “I delivered. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t hesitate. I did it all for you.”
She stopped in front of me, close enough I could smell the perfume clinging to her skin, sweet, heavy, desperate. Her hand slid up my chest, nails tracing the line of my lapel.
“Doesn’t that earn me something?” she murmured. “A place beside you? Protection? A little…” her voice dropped, sultry, “gratitude?”
Her fingers moved lower, bold, brushing against my belt. She tilted her chin, her lips inches from mine.
“Let me show you,” she breathed. “You don’t have to carry this weight alone. I can be what Sable never was. Loyal. Obedient. Yours.”
Her mouth almost touched my jaw. She thought she was winning. She thought her body was currency I’d cash.
