Chapter 7 - A Midnight Confession in the Penthouse
That night, a violent thunderstorm rolled over the city.
Lightning illuminated the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting jagged white shadows across the hardwood floors.
Tessa woke up shivering from a nightmare of sirens and shattering glass—the recurring memory of the night her mother died.
Unable to sleep, she walked into the dimly lit kitchen to pour a glass of water.
She found Gabriel sitting at the island counter, a glass of bourbon in hand.
He wore only a black silk shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular, scarred forearms.
“You couldn't sleep either,” Gabriel said softly.
“Just bad memories,” Tessa admitted, sitting on the stool across from him.
Gabriel looked at her with an intensity that made the air feel thin.
“Tell me about your mother, Tessa.”
Tessa cradled the glass of water.
“She was quiet. Beautiful. Always looking over her shoulder, just like I used to do. She taught me Italian lullabies, but she forbade me from ever speaking Italian in public. She told me that one day, when the world was safe, a family would come for us. But nobody ever came.”
A tear slipped down Tessa’s cheek.
Gabriel reached across the marble counter and gently wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“My mother was named Isabella,” Gabriel confessed, his voice heavy with raw emotion. “Fifteen years ago, during the first syndicate war, our estate was burned to the ground. My mother was smuggled out of the fire by her closest confidante and bodyguard. My mother survived... but her protector disappeared into the shadows to draw the killers away.”
Tessa’s breath caught.
“What happened to her protector?”
“Her name was Elena,” Gabriel whispered.
May you like
Tessa felt the room spin.
“Elena... my mother?”
