Chapter 5 The Price of Protection

Gabriel

He leads me down a quiet hallway, away from the others, until we reach a massive office. Dark wood, leather chairs, bookshelves lined with things I doubt he's ever read.

He closes the door behind us.

I cross my arms. "What was that?"

He tilts his head. "Dinner."

"Bullshit." I step closer, my pulse thrumming. "That was a test."

Something flickers in his eyes-approval.

"Smart," he murmurs. "You're learning."

Anger coils in my chest. "I don't want to learn. I don't want any of this."

He steps closer. "Then leave."

I freeze.

He just stands there, calm, controlled, waiting.

Daring me.

I hate him.

But I hate the truth even more.

I can't leave.

Because he's right.

I have nowhere else to go.

His gaze softens just enough. "Stay, Alba. Let me keep you safe."

I shake my head. "You don't do things out of kindness."

A slow smirk. "No. I don't."

A pause.

Then he leans in, his voice dropping to something dangerously soft.

"But I protect what's mine."

My breath catches.

And for the first time, I wonder...

If I've just traded one monster for another.

And which one will destroy me first.

Alba

The walls are closing in.

I can feel it.

The weight of this world. The cold eyes watching me, waiting for me to fail. The way Gabriel Moretti moves through it like a king ruling over shadows and blood.

I should be terrified.

I am.

But terror isn't enough to stop me from thinking. From planning.

Because one thing is certain-this is not my home.

And I will not stay here forever.

The morning light barely filters through the heavy curtains when I wake.

The bed is too soft. The sheets too smooth. Everything about this place feels wrong-a golden cage pretending to be comfort.

I swing my legs over the edge and stand. I won't lie in this bed and let the world swallow me whole.

A knock on the door makes me tense.

Before I can answer, it opens.

Gabriel.

Because of course it's him.

He's dressed in a crisp black shirt, the top two buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up. He looks... untouched. Like he didn't just force me into his world, into his protection, into his game.

His eyes sweep over me, sharp and assessing. "You're awake."

I cross my arms. "Brilliant observation."

He smirks, stepping inside like he owns the air in this room. "Get dressed. You're coming with me."

I don't move. "Where?"

"You'll see."

I hate the way he says it. Like he's enjoying this-enjoying me fighting him.

I glare at him. "What if I say no?"

His smirk fades. "Then I'll carry you out myself."

I grit my teeth. "You wouldn't."

His eyes darken. Try me.

I swallow my retort and turn away, grabbing the first outfit in the closet. Of course, it's not mine-everything here is something he provided. But I don't have the luxury of choice.

Minutes later, I'm in the passenger seat of a sleek black car, watching the city pass by in silence. Gabriel drives like he does everything else-calm, controlled, and dangerous beneath the surface.

I don't ask questions. I know he won't answer them.

So I wait.

And when we finally stop, my stomach tightens.

Because we're not at a restaurant. Or a meeting. Or anything normal.

We're at a warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

Gabriel steps out. I don't.

He opens my door, leaning down just enough to invade my space. "Move, dolcezza."

I move.

Inside, the air is thick with tension.

A group of men stand around a chair in the center of the room. A man sits in it, tied down, his face bloodied and bruised.

I freeze.

"What the hell is this?"

Gabriel walks ahead like this is normal.

Because it is.

I feel sick.

One of the men-Luca, I think-grins at me. "Morning, doc."

I don't answer.

Gabriel nods toward the tied-up man. "He was caught tailing you."

My blood turns to ice.

I stare at the man, really looking this time. He's young, maybe mid-twenties, his clothes torn and stained. His breathing is shallow, his face swollen from whatever they did to him before I got here.

"Who sent you?" Gabriel asks, voice calm.

The man doesn't answer.

Gabriel sighs, then takes a knife from his pocket.

I take a step back.

The room is silent as he crouches in front of the man. He trails the tip of the blade along his throat, barely pressing in. Just enough to be felt.

"Talk."

No response.

Gabriel shifts his grip and suddenly, there's a cut, thin but deep enough to make the man flinch. Blood beads along his skin.

Panic seizes my chest.

"Stop," I blurt out.

Gabriel doesn't even glance at me. "You don't give orders here, Alba."

I hate the way my name sounds in his mouth. Like he owns it. Like he owns me.

I take a breath, trying to steady myself. "He's already half-dead. This won't get you anything."

Gabriel finally looks at me. His expression is unreadable, but there's something calculating in his gaze.

Then, without a word, he stands and hands me the knife.

I go rigid. "What-"

"You fix problems, don't you?" His voice is soft, dangerous. "Fix this."

My pulse pounds. I look at the knife, at the bloodied man in front of me, at the watching eyes all around us.

A test.

Another goddamn test.

I can't do this.

I won't do this.

I meet Gabriel's gaze and do the only thing I can.

I drop the knife.