Chapter 2 - Three Knocks After Midnight
Harper did not open the door.
Not immediately.
She stood barefoot in the freezing apartment with the frying pan raised like she intended to defeat organized crime with cookware.
“The man with one shoe?” she called.
A pause.
“Yes.”
“You found the other one?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Harper lowered the frying pan slightly.
That wasn't reassuring.
“Why are there fifty cars outside?”
“Closer to eighty.”
Her grip tightened again.
“That was not the reassuring answer.”
A second male voice spoke quietly outside.
“Boss, perhaps we should explain.”
Harper's eyes widened.
Boss?
She moved toward the peephole.
The hallway was filled with men in black suits.
At the center stood the stranger.
Except he no longer looked like a dying man beside a dumpster.
His hair was still damp. Fresh bandages showed beneath the collar of a clean shirt. He wore a dark coat that probably cost more than everything Harper owned.
Two men stood behind him.
Both looked capable of breaking down her door without interrupting their breathing.
Harper cracked the door two inches, keeping the chain attached.
Gabriel looked through the opening.
“You ate the sandwich?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“That was rude. Half was technically mine.”
Gabriel smiled.
It transformed his face.
Then Harper noticed the exhaustion beneath it.
“You should be in a hospital.”
“I dislike hospitals.”
“I noticed.”
His gaze moved past her into the apartment.
The space heater was broken.
A bucket caught water beneath the kitchen ceiling.
An overdue electricity notice lay on the table.
Gabriel's smile vanished.
Harper noticed where he was looking and moved to block his view.
“What do you want?”
“To repay you.”
“For grilled cheese?”
“For stopping.”
Harper stared at him.
“I don't want money.”
“I didn't say money.”
“Then what?”
Gabriel looked toward the stairwell.
His men became still.
Something passed silently between them.
When he looked at Harper again, his expression was different.
“First, I need you to come with me.”
“No.”
“Harper—”
“No.”
“It isn't safe here.”
She laughed once.
“There are three hundred terrifying men outside my apartment. I had actually reached that conclusion myself.”
“They're mine.”
“That makes it worse.”
A faint sound came from Gabriel's lieutenant, suspiciously close to a laugh.
Gabriel ignored him.
“The men who attacked me know someone helped me.”
Harper's amusement disappeared.
“How?”
“We don't know.”
“And they know who I am?”
Gabriel didn't answer quickly enough.
Harper's face drained.
“Oh my God.”
“I can protect you.”
“You brought this to my door.”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
No excuse.
No denial.
Gabriel continued quietly.
“And that means protecting you is my responsibility.”
Harper stared at him.
“I didn't save you so you could own me.”
His expression hardened—not with anger at her, but at the idea.
“I don't own people.”
“You have three hundred men outside.”
“Two hundred eighty-seven.”
Harper blinked.
“That's your defense?”
“No. Accuracy matters.”
Despite herself, Harper almost smiled.
Almost.
Then a sharp sound echoed from outside.
Gabriel moved before Harper understood what she'd heard.
His hand struck the door.
It slammed shut.
A second later—
Glass shattered inside Harper's apartment.
A bullet buried itself in the wall.
Harper screamed.
Gabriel tore the door open, ripped the chain from its mount and pulled her into the hallway.
Men surged around them.
“Roof!” someone shouted.
“North building!”
Gabriel pushed Harper behind him.
“Matteo!”
“Already moving.”
Half the men disappeared down the stairs.
Harper stared at the bullet hole visible through her doorway.
Someone had fired at her.
Not Gabriel.
Her.
Because she had stopped in an alley.
Because she had given away half a sandwich.
Gabriel turned.
Their eyes met.
For the first time, Harper saw something truly frightening in his face.
Not cruelty.
Fear.
Fear for her.
“We leave now,” he said.
Harper couldn't argue anymore.
Five minutes later she sat inside an armored SUV surrounded by men whose names she didn't know.
Gabriel sat opposite her.
Blood was beginning to seep through his fresh bandage.
“You're bleeding again.”
He glanced down.
“So I am.”
“You're an idiot.”
Matteo looked out the window.
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“I've been called worse.”
Harper looked through the tinted glass.
Her apartment disappeared behind them.
She had no idea when—or whether—she would see it again.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“My home.”
Harper looked at the convoy.
Then at Gabriel.
“What exactly do you do?”
Matteo turned slightly.
Gabriel remained silent.
“Gabriel.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You never told me your name. Your man called you that.”
“Gabriel Vescari.”
Harper waited.
The name meant nothing to her.
Matteo stared at her.
“You seriously don't know?”
“Should I?”
Gabriel's mouth curved.
“No.”
Matteo muttered something in Italian.
Harper folded her arms.
“I work doubles at a diner. I don't have time to memorize rich psychopaths.”
Gabriel's smile widened.
Then headlights appeared behind them.
Matteo looked into the mirror.
His expression changed instantly.
“Boss.”
Gabriel turned.
Three vehicles had entered the convoy.
They didn't belong there.
“Down!” Gabriel shouted.
The night exploded.
Gunfire struck the armored SUV.
Harper dropped to the floor.
Gabriel covered her with his body despite his wounds.
The driver accelerated.
Cars swerved.
Men shouted through radios.
Harper could hear bullets hammering against reinforced metal.
Then Gabriel's hand found hers.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Whatever happens, don't let go.”
For reasons she couldn't understand, she obeyed.
And as Belladonna Harbor blurred beyond the windows, Harper realized something terrifying.
The stranger she had saved was not merely wealthy.
He wasn't merely dangerous.
May you like
Someone was willing to start a war to kill him.
And now they were willing to kill her too.
