Chapter 7 - The Dawn of Moretti
Silence descended over the Moretti estate like a thick blanket.
Below in the foyer, Marco and the surviving Moretti enforcers secured the remaining Castello survivors who threw down their weapons upon seeing their boss’s body at the base of the stairs.
At the top of the staircase, Gabriel stood breathing heavily, his wounded shoulder bleeding onto his white shirt.
He turned slowly to look at Hannah.
She stood near the stone pillar, the brass statue still clutched in her trembling hands, her eyes wide with shock, her face pale.
“You didn't take the elevator,” Gabriel said, his voice raspy, thick with emotion.
Hannah dropped the brass statue. It hit the rug with a dull thud.
“I told you,” Hannah whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as she walked toward him. “I’m not leaving you.”
Gabriel let out a low, breathless sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He stepped forward, pulled her into his uninjured arm, and buried his face in her soft hair, holding her so tightly that she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart against her ribs.
“You crazy, incredible woman,” Gabriel murmured, his lips pressing against her neck, her temple, her forehead. “You could have been safe.”
“I’m only safe where you are,” Hannah whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest, unbothered by the blood on his shirt.
Marco walked up the stairs, his tactical vest scuffed with soot, holding his radio.
“Boss,” Marco reported, looking at Hannah with new, profound respect in his eyes. “The Castello leadership is wiped out. The remaining lieutenants in New York are already calling to surrender their territories. The war is over.”
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Gabriel lifted his head, keeping his arm wrapped securely around Hannah’s waist.
“Clean up the house, Marco,” Gabriel ordered. “And call Dr. Harrison. I need my shoulder stitched... and then I have an announcement to make to the entire organization.”
