Chapter 2 - The Contract Written in Charcoal and Blood
Gabriel Costa walked with a terrifying ease.
He did not hurry.
He moved like a predator that had never known fear in any room, alley, or empire he entered.
Behind him, two towering men stepped out from the town car.
They wore tailored black suits and kept their coats unbuttoned.
Dean let go of Tessa’s hair and stepped in front of her.
He tried to puff out his chest.
“I said walk away!” Dean snapped, his voice cracking at the edges. “This is between me and my girlfriend!”
Gabriel didn’t look at Dean.
His eyes were locked on Tessa.
He looked at the red marks on her wrist.
He looked at the tear track on her pale cheek.
He looked at the trembling breath catching in her throat.
“She does not belong to you,” Gabriel said.
His voice was a low, resonant baritone that cut through the garage dampness like a steel blade.
Dean reached into his jacket.
“You think you’re tough because you got money? I’ll—”
Dean never finished the sentence.
Before Dean’s hand could clear his jacket pocket, Gabriel closed the distance in two blurring strides.
A sound like a dry branch snapping echoed across the concrete.
Gabriel had seized Dean’s wrist, twisted it backward with clinical precision, and driven him face-first into the concrete pillar.
Dean screamed.
The zip ties fell from his pocket, scattering across the wet floor.
A small folding knife clattered beside them.
Gabriel stood over Dean, one polished leather shoe resting lightly on the back of Dean’s neck.
Dean sobbed into the dirt, his arm pinned at an unnatural angle.
Gabriel did not breathe heavily.
He did not look angry.
He looked like a man wiping a speck of dust from his sleeve.
“Marco,” Gabriel murmured.
One of the men in the dark suits stepped forward immediately.
“Yes, Don Gabriel.”
“Remove this garbage from my city,” Gabriel said calmly. “If he is seen within five hundred miles of this perimeter, bury him where the grass does not grow.”
“Understood, sir.”
Marco grabbed Dean by the collar like a sack of damp laundry.
Dean tried to kick, weeping hysterically, but Marco struck him once behind the ear, rendering him limp, and dragged him toward a secondary black SUV that had quietly appeared on the ramp.
Silence fell over the parking level.
Only the sound of rain dripping from the ceiling remained.
Tessa pressed her back against her sedan, her heart hammering against her ribs so violently she felt dizzy.
She was shaking.
Gabriel turned his gaze back to her.
Up close, he was taller than she had realized—well over six feet, smelling of cedarwood, expensive tobacco, and cold night air.
He knelt smoothly and picked up her fallen car keys.
He straightened up and held them out.
Tessa stared at the silver keys.
Her hand trembled so badly she could barely raise it.
When she took the keys, his leather-gloved fingers lightly brushed hers.
A strange, electric shock traveled up her arm.
“You are Tessa Lynn,” Gabriel said.
It was not a question.
Tessa swallowed hard, her throat dry as sand.
“Yes. Mr. Costa... thank you. I... I didn’t know what to do.”
“He will never touch you again,” Gabriel said.
His voice held no theatrical boast; it was simply a statement of objective reality.
“I... I should call the police,” she murmured faintly.
“The police do not protect sheep from wolves, Miss Lynn,” Gabriel replied, his gaze intense, studying her features with an unsettling focus. “They merely draw chalk lines around the remains.”
He pulled a clean linen handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.
She took it and dabbed the damp coldness from her cheek.
“Get in your car,” Gabriel ordered gently. “Follow my vehicle. You will not return to your apartment tonight.”
Tessa bristled slightly despite her terror.
“Excuse me? I have to go home.”
“Your address was compromised three days ago,” Gabriel said coldly. “He had your landlord’s spare key in his back pocket. If you had gone home tonight, you would not have woken up tomorrow.”
Tessa’s breath hitched.
The world tilted beneath her feet.
“Why do you care?” she whispered. “You don’t know me.”
Gabriel paused.
For a split second, a shadow of something ancient and unreadable crossed his dark eyes.
“You work for my establishment,” he said flatly. “I protect what is mine. Starting tomorrow morning, you no longer work the front desk.”
“What?”
May you like
“You are my new executive secretary,” Gabriel stated. “Fortieth floor. Costa Tower. My driver will pick you up at eight.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and walked back to the town car.
