Chapter 1 - The Ledger and the Bullet
Gabriel Moretti stood in the center of the cramped accounting bullpen, the crisp scent of sandalwood and expensive leather entirely out of place among stale coffee and carpet cleaner. Richard Gable, still shaken from Matteo’s grip, scurried over, smoothing his tie with trembling fingers and trying to regain a shred of dignity.
"Mr. Moretti," Richard blustered, his voice pitching high. "I am Richard Gable, senior partner. If you're here regarding an audit or corporate representation, my associates can—"
Gabriel did not blink. He kept his eyes fixed on Khloe, his expression unreadable beneath the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. "I didn't come for an audit, Mr. Gable," Gabriel said, his deep voice carrying easily across the silent room. "I came for my accountant."
A collective gasp rippled through the office. Khloe felt every pair of eyes lock onto her—the same peers who usually ignored her or watched her struggle with the office water cooler now stared in stunned disbelief.
"Your... accountant?" Richard stammered, looking from Gabriel to Khloe's desk, where a half-eaten bag of pretzels sat next to a stack of tax forms. "Chloe? She handles mid-tier retail accounts and quarterly expense reports. She doesn't do private wealth or..."
"She does now," Gabriel interrupted smoothly. He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a thick envelope stamped with a crimson wax seal, and laid it directly on top of Khloe's keyboard. "Effective immediately, my holding companies require a forensic audit of three subsidiaries. I want you on it, Chloe. Full time, private office on the top floor of Moretti Tower, starting tomorrow morning."
Khloe’s breath caught. The salary listed upside down through the paper's heavy stock was more than she made in three years at Harrison and Gable. But the financial lure wasn't what terrified her; it was the absolute finality in his tone. This wasn't a request.
"I can't just leave," Khloe whispered, her cheeks burning hot as thirty coworkers eavesdropped. "I have a contract. I have active files."
Gabriel stepped closer, invading her personal space in a way that made her pulse spike, reminding her instantly of the heat of his mouth in the crowded nightclub. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, velvet purr meant only for her. "Your contract has a thirty-day termination clause, sweetheart. Which I bought out ten minutes ago from human resources. As for your files, Mr. Gable has kindly agreed to let you pack your things right now."
Richard nodded frantically, too terrified to argue.
Khloe looked up into those stormy eyes, searching for a joke, a prank, or a hidden threat. All she found was an intense, deliberate focus that suggested he had planned every second of this entrance. She stood up slowly, her emerald silk dress from the weekend replaced by a sensible navy blazer, though she felt anything but sensible.
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As Gabriel turned and gestured for Matteo to carry her modest cardboard box of desk supplies, Khloe realized her quiet, predictable life was officially over. But as she followed the most feared man in Chicago out the glass doors, a strange, terrifying question formed in her mind: why was a mob boss hiring a corporate accountant to look at his books?
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