Chapter 4 Beneath the Silence

The house had fallen into darkness. An alarm blared once, then stopped as quickly as it had started. Ivy stood frozen in the hallway, her pulse roaring in her ears.

"Gabriel!" she shouted into the echoing silence.

No answer.

Seconds stretched like hours. Her bare feet padded swiftly across the cold floor as she grabbed a heavy vase-anything for defense-and crept toward the east wing where the alarm had sounded. But before she could reach the threshold, a light snapped on. Gabriel appeared at the far end of the corridor, flanked by two of his security men.

"It's okay," he called out, rushing toward her. "It was a false trip. One of the sensor beams in the wine cellar was misaligned. No one breached the perimeter."

Ivy sagged against the wall in relief.

His arms wrapped around her without asking permission. His hold was firm, reassuring, and warm.

"You're shaking," he said into her hair.

"I thought-" she began, then shook her head. "Never mind."

He drew back slightly to look at her. "What did the message say? The last one."

Ivy pulled her phone from her back pocket and showed him. The words glowed against the screen:

> "Too late."

Gabriel's jaw tightened, and his hand slid to the small of her back.

"You're not safe here," he murmured.

"I don't think anywhere is safe anymore."

Gabriel exhaled sharply. "Then I'll build the safest place around you. Brick by brick, if I have to."

It was the kind of promise that should've sounded exaggerated. But coming from him, it didn't.

He meant it.

Later, after the team had reset the sensors and confirmed no threat remained, Gabriel poured them both glasses of bourbon. Ivy curled up on the velvet chaise in the library, the flickering fireplace casting amber across the room.

Gabriel sat across from her, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from running his hands through it one too many times. The cold billionaire mask he wore in public had vanished, leaving only the man beneath-tired, but present.

"You've been silent," he said gently.

"I don't know what to say."

"Start with how you're feeling."

She smiled without mirth. "Terrified. Tired. Confused. Angry."

"At me?"

"No," she said, after a pause. "Not at you. At the world. At Julian. At whoever keeps reminding me I can't outrun what happened."

"You're not running anymore."

"Then why does it still feel like I'm being hunted?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes locked with hers.

"Ivy," he said slowly, "I need you to hear something. No matter what we uncover, no matter who's behind these threats, you're not going through this alone."

The words landed with unexpected weight.

Alone.

She hadn't realized how often she still felt that way-until now.

Her voice was soft. "Why do you care?"

Gabriel rose and crossed the room to kneel in front of her. He took the glass from her hands and set it on the side table, then brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Because I see you," he whispered. "Even when you try to hide. Even when you hate yourself for what you've lost. I see everything you've been through... and I'm still here."

Her breath caught.

"You shouldn't be."

"And yet I am."

The air between them thickened with something unspoken, unfiltered. Ivy reached up, her fingers brushing his jaw.

"I'm tired of pretending I don't want this," she whispered.

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in slowly. "Then stop pretending."

Their lips met in a kiss that stole oxygen and replaced it with heat.

This kiss was different than the ones before. It wasn't impulsive. It wasn't fleeting. It was a slow descent into something deeper-something neither of them could ignore anymore.

Gabriel's hands cradled her face as he kissed her, as if afraid she might break.

But Ivy didn't feel fragile.

She felt alive.

When they parted, their foreheads touched. The silence between them was tender.

"Come with me," he said.

She followed him without asking where.

He led her to the master suite, where the lights were dimmed and the balcony doors let in the soft hush of the ocean below. The bed was massive-sleek and modern-but what struck Ivy most was the vulnerability in Gabriel's eyes.

"I've only ever brought one woman here," he said. "My mother. Years ago. Before she died."

Ivy's breath caught. "You've never...?"

"Never invited anyone into this space. Until you."

The meaning in his voice wasn't lost on her. This wasn't just physical. He was giving her part of himself no one else had touched.

Ivy stepped closer. "Then let me be here now. With you."

Their kiss resumed, but this time it deepened into a rhythm of need and reverence. Ivy's hands explored the planes of his chest as Gabriel unzipped her dress with a slowness that betrayed his hunger. The fabric slid from her shoulders like a whisper and pooled at her feet.

He stepped back to take her in, his gaze reverent.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured.

"So are you."

He chuckled softly. "I doubt that."

"I don't."

She reached for his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Her hands trailed the hard muscles of his chest and down his abdomen, memorizing him with her touch.

The kiss resumed as they fell back onto the bed, skin against skin, breath tangled with breath. Gabriel's mouth traced a path down her neck, her collarbone, her stomach-each kiss a promise, each caress a revelation.

Ivy gasped his name as he worshipped every inch of her, not as a man claiming her, but as one honoring the space she let him in.

When he entered her, it was slow and deliberate-an intimate connection forged from all the silence, the longing, the fear they'd both carried.

Their movements built like waves-gentle, then wild, crashing and rolling in a tide neither could control. They lost themselves in each other, in shared heat and whispered names, until the world beyond the room ceased to exist.

Afterward, they lay in tangled sheets, limbs entwined, hearts beating in harmony.

Ivy turned her face into the crook of his neck. "That shouldn't have happened."

Gabriel's hand slid along her back. "And yet it did."

She laughed softly. "You say that a lot."

"I say what's true."

She looked up at him. "What happens now?"

Gabriel exhaled. "Now we face it together."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, the sound of the ocean their only lullaby.

The next morning was golden with sunrise.

Ivy awoke to the smell of espresso and the warmth of sheets still carrying his scent. Gabriel was already dressed, a robe tied loosely at his waist, his laptop open on the desk.

He looked up. "You're awake."

"Barely."

"Come eat. I had breakfast brought in."

She slipped into one of his shirts and padded over to him.

He kissed her forehead. "You look dangerous in my clothes."

"And you look tired."

He sighed. "Didn't sleep much. Been going through internal logs. I think I found something."

"What?"

He turned the laptop so she could see.

"There's been a series of unauthorized log-ins into the KnightTech communications system-coded through a backdoor that only high-level execs should have access to. And one of the emails linked to the breach? It was masked under Roth's hedge firm."

Ivy's blood turned to ice.

"So he is behind it?"

Gabriel nodded. "Or someone close to him. But here's the twist-I traced a few of the flagged emails, and one was forwarded from... a Valor Strategies server."

Her breath stopped.

"That's my old firm."

"Which means someone used your downfall as leverage to leak company secrets. Possibly using your credentials, even after you left."

Ivy sat down slowly. "Then that means... they didn't just sabotage my reputation. They used me."

Gabriel nodded. "And we're going to expose them."

But before he could say more, his phone buzzed sharply on the desk.

A video message.

He clicked it open-and both of their expressions hardened.

It was grainy but clear.

A video of Ivy and Gabriel kissing on the private beach in Capri.

A voiceover followed:

> "Lovely couple. Shame if the world saw this... or your investors. Back off, Knight."

Gabriel's face darkened. "They're blackmailing us."

Ivy clenched her fists. "Let them leak it."

He turned to her. "It's not just about scandal now. It's war."