Chapter 10
Gabriel stood silently for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Evelyn’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure the family standing behind him.
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the polished marble floors, and focused his entire attention back on Phoebe and the boys.
Phoebe was kneeling on the floor now, her rumpled apron pooling around her. She was weeping silently, the tears tracking heavily down her rosy cheeks. Samuel stood close beside her, his small hand resting on her shoulder, his cream sweater a beacon of warmth.
Slowly, agonizingly, Phoebe extended an open, trembling hand toward Isaac.
The six-year-old boy in the navy velvet jacket looked at the housemaid. He didn't understand the complex, violent mafia politics that had just transpired, but he understood the profound, undeniable pull of the woman weeping for him. Isaac took a tentative step forward, watching her trembling fingers.
Gabriel crouched down, his tailored suit shifting, and looked his adopted son in the eye.
"It's okay, Isaac," Gabriel murmured, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal edge. "She is your mother. You can go to her."
Isaac looked at Gabriel, his innocent eyes wide, seeking permission. When Gabriel nodded, Isaac stepped into Phoebe's open arms.
Phoebe collapsed forward, wrapping her arms around both Samuel and Isaac, pulling the identical twins tightly against her chest. She buried her face in their matching dark hair, her sobs echoing loudly in the quiet salon.
Gabriel watched them, a profound sense of protective devotion washing over him. The fierce, gentle love she displayed was a rare, precious commodity in his dark, violent world.
"You are no longer a maid in this house, Phoebe," Gabriel stated, his voice a low, gravelly command laced with quiet affection. "From this moment forward, you and your sons answer to no one but me. You will move into the secure wing tonight. No one will ever separate you again."
Phoebe looked up, her breath hitching. The magnitude of the offer, and the absolute safety it provided, was overwhelming. "Thank you, Gabriel."
Before Gabriel could respond, the heavy mahogany doors of the salon burst open again. A bloodied security operative stumbled into the room, gasping for breath, his dark suit torn.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Gabriel asked, spinning around, his hand already reaching for the concealed weapon beneath his vest.
"Yes, Boss!" the operative choked out. "The Cross syndicate didn't wait! Evelyn's personal guards got a signal out before we disarmed them! They hit the outer gates! We have multiple hostiles on the grounds!"
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Gabriel looked back at Phoebe and the twins, his cold, perceptive eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Gabriel asked the quiet room, racking the slide of his handgun with a sharp, metallic clatter as the estate's high-pitched security sirens began to wail, signaling the beginning of a brutal war.
