A Love of Vengeance

by Nancy Haviland

She looked into Gabriel’s blazing eyes and felt their scorch on her skin. Despite his I’m-the-boss bluster, she’d heard something that finally chased the chill in her skin away. Made her feel protected, safe. Without giving herself the chance to beat herself up for it, she tenderly cupped his face.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For caring enough to be concerned about me. I’m not sure how partial I am to your methods, but it’s still really nice to have again.”

  Nice, but possibly dangerous, according to the man who’d broken into her home. But then, how reliable was a man who’d just committed a B and E on her own property?

  No, Gabriel was the safest choice right now. She only hoped he could help her uncover why there was so much danger surrounding her.

  CHAPTER 12

  Gabriel’s cell rang, and he released her with a seeming reluctance.

  “I’ll go up and pack a bag while you get that,” Eva said, turning away.

  He snagged her wrist and held her in place, shaking his head. “It’s already done.” Before her shock could fully register, he plucked his phone from his pocket and gave a crisp, “Yeah.”

  He must have gone upstairs during his time-out earlier. She frowned. He’d gone through her things. Seen her room. Eva’s lips thinned in irritation, her warm and fuzzy feelings toward him taking a beating.

  He’s helping you. He’s the only one helping you.

  That took the wind out of her sails. But she still would have liked the option of showing him around herself.

  “Goddamn,” Gabriel said. “Great work. Give me a few and I’ll get back to you.”

  The satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.

  “You sound happy,” she observed as he put his phone away.

  “Security caught some asshole nosing around one of the closed-off job sites near Issaquah.”

  “Oh. What do you do in a case like that? And don’t you have foremen to deal with it? Why would they call you?”

  Gabriel looked at her for a suspended moment, a small smile forming. “This one was armed.”

  He put his hand out and she took it, allowing him to help her down the hallway even though she could walk just fine on her tender feet. “Do you want to change before we go?”

  She nodded and made her way up to her room and discarded her work dress, opting for stretchy cotton yoga pants and a tank top. Five minutes later she was carefully moving down the stairs to where Gabriel was waiting.

  When she reached the bottom, he scooped her up and opened the door, carrying her through it. She inhaled his familiar scent deeply as he crossed the front walkway and opened the rear door of the Escalade, placing her in the backseat. “Be right back,” he said before shutting her in.

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the seat. Drowsy thoughts floated around. She was going to be living with Gabriel for the time being. What would that be like?

  Her lids snapped open and she lifted her head, focusing on the entrance to her house. How had Gabriel known her home so well? Or even remembered where it was, for that matter, since he’d only been here the once? The way he’d picked her up at the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a room that wasn’t visible from the entrance. Tendrils of unease snaked around her when she remembered him turning on the lights. The switch was hidden behind the calendar on the wall. How had he known it was there?

  The shiver that rocked her caused the hair on her arms to stand up, her stomach to curl in on itself. Was she being completely naive to discount her intruder’s crazy warning?

  She jumped when Gabriel and Quan appeared from out of the now-dark house. Gabriel headed toward the truck as Quan closed and locked the door. They’d somehow made a makeshift cover for the busted window. It wasn’t foolproof, but hopefully it would keep out any further break-ins.

  Was she really going to take the word of some lowlife criminal over a reputable, successful businessman? Sure, Gabriel hadn’t been honest about being her boss when they met, but he’d certainly been there for her when she needed someone to save her skin—first with the man from the charity benefit and then again tonight.

  Kind of hard to hold a grudge against someone so clearly bent on protecting her.

  The door opened and he climbed in beside her.

  “You good?” he questioned.

  She nodded, softening, keeping her concerns to herself.

  “Fasten your seat belt.”

  She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “However would I get by without you?” she muttered sarcastically.

  “Let’s not find out, hmm?”

  The driver’s door opened and Quan climbed in.

  “I’ll have someone come for your car tomorrow,” Gabriel told her.

  “Wouldn’t it save time for me to drive it now?”

  Quan choked a little, and Gabriel gave her a sidelong look that said, “Are you okay in there?”

  “I’ve driven tired before.” She ruined any standing she had with a yawn. “Forget it,” she muttered as her head hit the backrest.

  Gabriel’s “Forget what?” was barely audible.

  Too tired to resist, she let her head fall to his shoulder and didn’t protest when he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. God, he smelled wonderful.

  And, really, had she bothered to ask, he probably would have told her he’d refreshed his memory by checking her address on her employee file. Her contact info was also listed on her resume and all the paperwork she’d filled out for HR earlier in the day.

  And him knowing how to navigate her house?

  “Gabriel?” she started, the question forming on her lips.

  “Yeah, sweetheart.”

  “How did you know . . . ?”

  Sleep conquered consciousness.

  “What?”

  Gabriel heard the impatience in his tone as he questioned Quan’s expression, a sleeping Eva in his arms. The numbers continued to flash on the panel above the doors as they ascended to the top floor of the Crown Jewel.

  Quan shrugged. “That bruise on her face from a fist?”

  Gabriel worked his jaw. “I won’t know until she tells me. But if it is, someone’s going to wish their old man had pulled out.”

  Quan chuckled under his breath.

  The elevator stopped, and the doors swooshed opened to reveal Alek standing in the center of the corridor, arms crossed, legs braced apart. “How the fuck did we not realize sooner that she’d left the office? That shouldn’t have happened.” In his perturbed state, he’d reverted to the mother tongue.

  Quan, in a reasonable tone that must have been annoying, said something about “free will.”

  “What are you doing here?” Gabriel asked Alek. Why the hell wasn’t he guarding Stefano’s guy?

  “The Berkman twins are with him in a Motel 6 off I-90 near Issaquah.” Impatience lanced like a whip through Alek’s words even as Gabriel relaxed slightly, knowing their captive was being held by two of their best men—brothers who’d followed Gabriel to Seattle from Queens. “I had one of our SPD set up a DUI checkpoint”—he air quoted—“before the bridge. It’s Furio, by the way. Fingered him and that haircut a dozen cars in.”

  The tension came back with a vengeance, his blood running cold as he pictured that Mohawked motherfucker, Stefano’s underboss. The merciless prick had been recruited by Albert Moretti himself the year before his death. Gabriel and Furio had even done the odd job together, which is where Gabriel had learned the guy had no soul. Thinking of Eva anywhere near that evil fuck made his skin want to crawl off his body.

  Alek looked Eva over. “What happened to her face? And what’s that?” He motioned to her bandaged hand.

  “I don’t have the full details yet, but she cut her hand on the glass from a broken window and walked all over the shit for good measure.” He lifted her legs and tilted his chin at the fluffy socks he’d put on her in the car. “Furio’s mine, no matter what.”

 
; He started down the corridor after nodding to the two boys now stationed on either side of the elevator, repeating the greeting to two more halfway down the hall. He thought of the pair tucked away near the front entrance to the hotel’s garage, another duo squatting in a tinted sedan a few cars over from his parking space, a deuce stationed in plain view at his private entrance. And now he was inclining his head to two others taking up real estate outside the suite: Bobby T and . . .

  “What the fuck are you doing here, brother?” he demanded of Maksim’s right-hand man.

  Micha Zaretsky, known to some as Torpedo because, well, he was a deadly sonofabitch, briefly shook Gabriel’s outstretched hand, careful not to jar Sleeping Beauty. Didn’t even look at her, actually, which was a nice change. “Maks sent me.”

  And that’s when it hit Gabriel like a bullet train. That’s when he realized . . .

  He still had a crew. He was still in the game, even though he’d gone straight years ago. He didn’t have a “security team.” But a fucking crew. And because trouble was brewing, his allies were gifting him.

  Lucian Fane had given him information.

  Maksim had sent Micha—a lethal weapon.

  Holy shit.

  Unsure what to think, he entered the suite through the door Quan had opened. Shouldn’t he be more surprised? Angry at himself, maybe? Disappointed in himself that he’d never completely left the organized crime world behind as he’d wanted everyone to believe—himself included. He’d simply downsized. By hundreds of men. Not that he’d ever fooled himself into thinking he’d become some philanthropic, law-abiding, respectable businessman, but he’d definitely thought he was a little further from being “organized” than he actually was.

  But he was glad. At this moment anyway. He had respectability, sure, but it was the intimidation and his capacity for instilling fear that would be an aid when it came down to it.

  Because that was the way things worked in their world—the bigger and badder someone was, the better off he’d be. That survival-of-the-fittest mentality was alive and well. If one was weak, he was a target. Period. If he toughened up, toed the line, played—mostly—nice, he could get by.

  Until bullies like Furio and Stefano showed up, threatening loved ones. Then a man had no choice but to lose his inhibitions and whatever conscience he had, and take the fuckers down before they triumphed first.

  “Think she’s out for the night?”

  A funny sound escaped Eva, and she lifted her head, looking around in confusion. It hadn’t been Quan’s question that had woken her, though, but Gabriel’s suffocating grip. He loosened his arms.

  “We’re here?” she asked sleepily.

  “I was going to put you to bed.”

  She squirmed. “I’m good now. I can walk.”

  He glared at her.

  “Really, Gabriel. I’m fine.”

  He slowly lowered her to the floor. Last thing he wanted her thinking was that he or his boys saw her as weak.

  “I’m going to use the washroom.” Her movements were uncharacteristically subdued as she headed through the main room and into the bedroom. Understandable.

  Once he heard the bathroom door close, he stalked over to the bar in front of the window and poured two fingers of Stoli into three glasses. Without hesitating, he downed the clear liquid, savoring the burning trail it left as it slid down his throat. Quan and Alek wasted no time in doing the same.

  Palming his phone, he dialed the Berkman twins. “Which one?” he asked when the call was picked up. Couldn’t tell which brother had answered the phone by the voice alone.

  “Abel.”

  “You guys tight?”

  “Of course.” Abel’s calm tone was the antithesis to what was swirling through Gabriel’s head.

  “I can’t get out there—”

  “Weren’t expecting you, boss. How long do you want us to let this one circle the drain?”

  Gabriel sighed in frustration. He was torn. He needed to take care of Furio himself, but he couldn’t leave Eva. The longer the boys held that fucker—who was just as much a pro at this as they were—the greater the chance something could go wrong. “Hurt him,” he finally said, Eva’s fear and injuries front and center in his mind as explanation for the unusual request. “I need to hear his pain.”

  Through the phone, Gabriel heard a thump and a bellow, followed by a round of tense cursing, but he didn’t feel satisfaction since he hadn’t been the cause of it.

  “Ball peen to the radius, if the added visual helps,” Abel volunteered as if he knew more was needed. “And I’m pretty sure the ulna didn’t fare so well either. Little bonus.”

  “That does help.”

  “Reaper called.”

  Gabriel massaged the back of his neck, the action doing little to ease the tension. Why would Vincente have called Abel? Unless Alek had let him know they’d tagged Furio. “Did he?”

  “Yeah. After he recommended the best way to deal with this piece of shit, he said, ‘See ya shortly.’ What do you make of that?”

  Damned Vincente. The guy never gave up anything until he was good and ready. “Only V knows, man.”

  “True. I’ll expect him sooner rather than later, though.”

  “Me, too.”

  Abel cleared his throat. “Pakhan’s kid okay?”

  The Russian term, meaning boss, was spoken with the utmost respect. Gabriel felt guilt kick him in the balls, before he silently cursed Vasily to hell and back for giving him this disease he now suffered from. Eva-fucking-itis. “She will be,” he muttered, looking longingly at the quarter-filled bottle of vodka.

  “I don’t doubt it.” Click.

  Alek cleared his throat. “Call my uncle, G. He needs to know what’s happening.”

  “Like he doesn’t already,” he said dryly, swearing he’d heard a tsk-tsk in Alek’s voice.

  “Still, you don’t need me to tell you that it would be in your best interest to call and fill him in yourself.”

  Gabriel leveled his friend with a dry stare. “Where would you suggest I start? By telling him all the ways I’ve failed and brutally disrespected him in the past weeks? The worst being that I’ve claimed his fucking daughter without his knowledge or permission? Or should I begin by informing him that I’ve been so distracted by her that I’ve let harm come to her more than once?” He cracked a sharp, humorless laugh as the foreign taste of what he had to assume was embarrassment coated his tongue. “You’d have to put me down within the hour, and you know it, brother. Now why would I do that to you?” he asked as he turned back to the Stoli and poured a chaser, which he downed immediately.

  “He won’t go that far. Not with you.” Alek elbowed him out of the way and reached for the bottle. “And you know it.” He splashed the remainder in his glass and walked off with it.

  “I think she needs to know what’s doing.” Both Alek and Quan groaned at that. Man, his temples were throbbing. “It’s too dangerous for her to be in the dark anymore. The minute her shadow goes down she’s wide-open. Look at tonight. Nick went down—Furio got to her. Not that she’ll be out of my sight ever a-fucking-gain, but she needs to know what to look for and how best to protect herself.”

  Fucking Stefano and his vendetta.

  Gabriel hung his head, sweat beading his brow as that night five years ago rushed through his memory.

  His father had come to him as he’d been getting ready to head out for the night, handing him a set of keys. He’d been instructed to leave the cube van out front of a factory in the Bronx, and, like the good little soldier he’d been, he’d done just that. He remembered wondering vaguely which family it was that owned the building. And what was it he’d just delivered? A body? Something as simple as a shipment of goods?

  Who knew? At that point, who cared?

  They’d gotten about two blocks away from the drop when his silent question was answered. The explosion had rocked the ground, feeling like an earthquake, th
e sound so loud Gabriel could have sworn he heard it even now. The drive back to his house had been spent wondering if anyone had been inside the building. Or had his father just wanted to put an end to his enemy’s livelihood?

  Back at home, he’d found his father in the living room, the old man pale and shaking. He’d never seen the Don not in total control. But his concern had been waved aside, pushed onto his mother, who’d also been crying. Something had gone down, and to this day, Gabriel didn’t know what.

  He’d left them alone. And an hour later, Gabriel was walking into a quiet warehouse in the heart of Queens to meet Stefano at his request.

  That’s far enough.

  His brother had moved into a swath of moonlight that shone through one of the high windows, and Gabriel swallowed a curse. His brother’s features were ravaged, his clothes and skin saturated with blood. The man hated him, but concern still reared up for his only sibling.

  What the hell happened, Stef?

  You. You’re what happened, Gabe. Did you know Adrianna was in her father’s factory before you blew their building to hell?

  Gabriel’s heart had slammed against his rib as his brother’s features contorted with rage.

  I’m guessing by that stunned look on your spoiled rotten face that you didn’t. I can’t get over what a fuckin’ puppet you are, not to ask one fucking question when your owner sets you loose.

  Stefano had stood for a moment, his breath coming hard, and when he spoke again his voice was filled with a bitter hate that, for once, Gabriel felt was justified.

  I’m not going to kill you right now, Gabe. No. I’ve decided to make this a little more interesting than that. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But just remember. The day I hear you’ve found the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with . . . I’ll be there to take her away from you. The same way you took Adrianna from me.

  Gabriel’s attention snapped back to the present and the cell in his hand. Opening his burning eyes, he scrolled through the names and pressed a contact Vincente had given him a while back, one neither of them had ever expected him to use. But for Eva, Gabriel was clearly willing to do just about anything.