Chapter 8 - THE SAFE HOUSE KISS
Gabriel blamed himself.
I could see it in everything he did.
The way he checked every door twice.
The way he stopped sleeping.
The way his voice became colder whenever Vittorio’s name came up.
“You weren’t the one listening under the table,” I told him.
“I chose the table.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“That might be the problem.”
He looked at me.
We were staying at a secured apartment overlooking Central Park.
Luca was somewhere else.
Salvatore remained hospitalized.
For the first time since this began, Gabriel and I were alone.
Really alone.
No waiters.
No bodyguards in the room.
No old men insulting anyone in Sicilian.
Gabriel loosened his tie.
“You should go somewhere far from this.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“My mother is here.”
“I’ll protect her.”
“I’m not asking you to solve my life.”
His expression tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked toward the window.
“I’m trying.”
That answer disarmed me.
I sat beside him.
For months, I had thought Gabriel Rossi was a man who felt nothing.
Now I understood the truth.
He felt too much.
He simply believed showing it would give someone a weapon.
“Why do you come to Ilvento every Thursday?”
He gave a faint smile.
“My mother used to take me there.”
“I thought Vittorio owned it.”
“He does now. He didn’t then.”
“So your terrifying weekly steak ritual is sentimental?”
“Never repeat that.”
I laughed.
He looked at me.
Something changed.
The room became quieter.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the night you told my father to eat chickpea fritters somewhere else,” he said.
I stopped breathing.
“That is an unusual romantic milestone.”
“I don’t have much experience with normal.”
“I noticed.”
He moved slightly closer.
Then stopped.
“Tell me no.”
“What?”
“If you don’t want this.”
My heartbeat stumbled.
He was waiting.
That mattered.
More than I expected.
So I closed the distance myself.
The kiss was slow.
Careful.
Nothing like the dangerous man people described in newspapers.
When we separated, Gabriel rested his forehead against mine.
Then his phone rang.
Of course it did.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What happened?”
He stood.
I already knew it involved Salvatore.
The hospital had gone into lockdown.
Someone posing as a specialist had entered his room with a syringe.
A bodyguard stopped him before he reached Salvatore.
They arrested the man.
But the doctor said something during questioning.
He had not been hired by Vittorio.
He claimed the money came from another Rossi.
Gabriel demanded the name.
The answer reached us twenty minutes later.
Gabriel Rossi.
I stared at him.
Someone was framing him now.
Then Luca called.
His voice sounded terrified.
“Gabriel, get Tessa out of there.”
“Why?”
“Because Uncle Vittorio has stopped trying to make us suspicious of each other.”
A crash sounded behind Luca.
Then shouting.
“Luca?”
The line went dead.
Gabriel called back.
No answer.
Ten minutes later, security found Luca’s apartment empty.
On the wall, someone had written one sentence in Sicilian.
One son for one brother.
May you like
Angelo Rossi was alive.
And Vittorio knew where he was.
