Chapter 9
Gabriel did not sleep. Dawn was threatening to break over the city skyline, casting a bruised, purple light across the horizon. He sat in the back of his SUV, the convoy speeding back toward the Continental Hotel. The Vale family problem had been resolved, stripped of their wealth and abandoned to the wolves they had courted. But Gabriel knew the Romanovs would not stop. A failed hit demanded a response.
His encrypted phone buzzed. It wasn't Marcus. It was the emergency line he had left with Rose.
Gabriel snatched the phone. "Speak."
"Gabriel!" Rose’s voice was breathless, panicked, accompanied by the chaotic sound of shattering glass and heavy thuds. "They're here! Men in the stairwell! Your guards are fighting them off, but they breached the eastern fire escape!"
Gabriel’s blood turned to ice. "Lock the primary suite. Put the children in the reinforced panic room behind the master closet. Do not open the door until you hear my voice."
"Hurry!" she cried before the line went dead.
Gabriel slammed his fist against the partition. "Drive this car through the lobby doors if you have to! Move!"
The SUVs tore through the empty morning streets, running red lights and swerving past delivery trucks. They hit the hotel courtyard like a military strike team. Gabriel didn't wait for the car to stop; he threw the door open and sprinted into the lobby, his weapon already drawn.
He bypassed the elevators, knowing they would be disabled or trapped. He took the emergency stairs, his tailored suit restricting him as he took three steps at a time, his men right behind him. They reached the top floor just as a heavy explosion blew the stairwell doors off their hinges.
Smoke and plaster dust filled the opulent hallway. Four Romanov hitmen, armed with assault rifles, were advancing toward the primary suite.
Gabriel stepped out of the smoke like a ghost. He didn't shout a warning. He raised his weapon and fired. His shots were methodical, coldly precise. One, two, three. Three men dropped instantly, their bodies hitting the carpet with heavy, lifeless thuds.
The fourth man spun around, firing blindly into the smoke. Bullets chewed through the drywall inches from Gabriel’s head. Gabriel didn't flinch. He walked slowly forward, advancing through the hail of gunfire with terrifying calm. He raised his arm, aligned his sights, and pulled the trigger.
The final hitman collapsed against the heavy mahogany doors of the primary suite, sliding down to the floor, leaving a streak of crimson on the wood.
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Gabriel lowered his gun. The silence that followed was ringing, thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. He stepped over the bodies, reached the door, and knocked twice.
"Rose," Gabriel said, his voice returning to its low, controlled cadence. "It's over. Open the door."
