Chapter 2 - The Price of Blood
The armored Maybach tore through the torrential Pennsylvania rain like a dark bullet, escorted by two black SUVs filled with armed syndicate enforcers.
Inside the rear cabin, Hannah sat buried in soft leather, holding a pristine glass of orange juice Gabriel had forced her to drink to raise her blood sugar. Beside her, Gabriel sat with a leather folder open on his lap, making rapid, low-toned phone calls in Italian and English.
“...No, Arthur. The transfer happens immediately,” Gabriel was saying into his phone, his tone colder than ice. “The debt on the Cole account is cleared. Check your wire transfer in thirty seconds.”
He hung up and tapped his tablet screen.
“It’s done,” Gabriel said, turning to Hannah. “The seventy-eight thousand dollars has been cleared. I also deposited an additional two hundred thousand into a secure trust for Noah’s long-term transplant care.”
Hannah stared at him, her throat choking up again. “Two... two hundred thousand? Mr. Moretti, I can never repay that. Even if I work for you for thirty years—”
“I didn't ask you to repay it,” Gabriel interrupted, closing his leather folder with a soft snap.
“Why?” Hannah whispered, searching his striking, scarred face. “Why are you doing this for me? I’m just a maid who’s been in your house for three weeks.”
Gabriel turned his head, looking out the tinted window at the passing grey trees. The silence in the car grew long and heavy, filled only with the steady hum of the V12 engine.
“Five years ago,” Gabriel began, his voice dropping into a register so dark and hollow it made Hannah’s skin prickle, “a woman named Evelyn died in my arms.”
Hannah held her breath.
“She had a younger sister,” Gabriel continued, his jaw tightening until a muscle leaped beneath his skin. “The opposition family—the Castellos—wanted a leverage point against me. They kidnapped the girl. They demanded ten million dollars in cash within three hours. I was arrogant. I thought I could launch a rescue operation without paying the ransom.”
He turned back to look at Hannah, his gray eyes shadowed with a profound, eternal guilt.
“I was four minutes late,” Gabriel whispered. “When we breached the warehouse, she was gone. I spent five years building an empire where no one under my roof is ever left at the mercy of a clock or a price tag.”
He reached out, his long, warm fingers brushing a strand of dark hair away from Hannah’s temple.
“You slept in my bed last night, Hannah,” Gabriel said softly, his touch surprisingly gentle against her feverish skin. “Whether you meant to or not, you came under my roof and slept under my protection. You are mine to protect now. Do you understand?”
Hannah’s heart gave a strange, violent thud against her ribs—a mixture of fear, safety, and a deep, unexpected warmth that swept through her veins.
Ten minutes later, the convoy pulled into the emergency bay of Mercy Ridge Medical Center.
The hospital doors flew open. A team of elite doctors led by Dr. Harrison—the top specialist Gabriel had summoned—was already waiting with a mobile life-support gurney.
Dr. Nolan rushed out to meet them, looking stunned, holding an iPad with updated vitals. “Miss Cole! The entire hospital board just received a wire confirmation... and Dr. Harrison’s team is taking over Noah’s case immediately!”
Hannah ran toward the glass doors. “Where is he? Is he awake?”
“He’s in Room 402,” Dr. Nolan said, looking nervously at Gabriel Moretti, who walked behind Hannah like a towering, lethal shadow, surrounded by four suited bodyguards. “His pressure stabilized as soon as we started the specialized blood-filter unit.”
Hannah practically burst into Room 402.
Inside, resting beneath crisp white blankets, was sixteen-year-old Noah. He looked tiny, his face pale, but the oxygen mask over his mouth was rising and falling steadily. A modern dialysis monitor hummed quietly beside his bed.
“Noah!” Hannah gasped, rushing to his side and taking his weak, cold hand in hers.
Noah opened his eyes slowly, squinting up at her through heavy eyelids. “Han...? Why are you crying? Did I miss school?”
“No, baby, no,” Hannah wept, pressing his hand against her cheek. “You're okay. You're going to be okay now.”
Noah looked past her shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the tall, formidable man standing near the doorway. Gabriel stood with his arms crossed, watching the brother and sister with an expression of quiet, solemn satisfaction.
“Who’s that?” Noah whispered weakly. “Is he a superhero?”
Hannah let out a soft laugh through her tears, looking back at Gabriel. “No, sweetie. That’s Mr. Moretti. He’s... he’s the man who saved us.”
Gabriel met her gaze across the quiet hospital room. A faint, almost imperceptible soften occurred around his eyes.
Suddenly, Marco stepped up behind Gabriel, leaning in to whisper urgently into his ear.
May you like
Gabriel’s expression instantly returned to stone. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, boss,” Marco whispered back, his hand resting near his concealed firearm. “Our perimeter scouts at the warehouse just spotted two Castello spotters near the hospital parking garage. They know you’re here. And they know about the girl.”
