Chapter 9 - The Hidden Ledger
Gabriel ate in silence, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing with every bite. The meal wasn't fancy, but it was real—grounded in simple, honest flavors that cut through the sterile paranoia of the penthouse.
When he finished, he set the fork down and looked up at me.
“You have a talent for keeping people alive, Norah,” he said quietly. “Too bad you’re wasting it in a diner.”
“I’m not wasting anything,” I replied, wiping down the counter. “I’m paying my way forward. Speaking of which—if you want to keep eating, you need to fix the root of your problem.”
“Which is?”
“You’re treating paranoia like a strategy,” I said, leaning against the counter. “It’s not. It’s a cage. If you want to know who poisoned Paulie, you don't wait for them to poison you next. You force their hand.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “And how do you suggest I do that?”
Before I could answer, a sharp, urgent knock echoed from the kitchen doorway.
Leo pushed the door open, his face pale and tight, holding a secure encrypted tablet in his hand. He didn't look at me; his gaze was locked entirely on Gabriel.
“Boss,” Leo said, his voice dropping an octave. “We just got a flag on the offshore accounts Marcus manages. The secondary transfer we’ve been tracking for two weeks just executed.”
Gabriel stood up instantly, all the warmth from the meal vanishing from his expression in a fraction of a second. “Where did it go?”
“It didn't go to an offshore syndicate,” Leo said, his jaw working tightly. “It went to an account registered under Elena’s maiden name. And that’s not all. The security logs show someone accessed your private study ten minutes ago while we were in here.”
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He bolted past Leo toward the private study down the hall, his hand instinctively slipping inside his jacket toward his holster.
I followed right behind them, my heart racing.
When we reached the double doors of the study, they were standing slightly ajar. Inside, the room was dark except for the blue glow of a computer terminal left open on the mahogany desk. Papers were scattered across the floor, and the heavy wall safe behind Gabriel’s desk—the one containing the physical ledger of every operation, alliance, and compromise in the city—was swinging wide open.
Empty.
Gabriel walked slowly into the center of the room, staring at the empty safe. His face went entirely bloodless. For weeks, he had suspected Marcus, watched Vincent, and questioned Elena. He had locked himself in his penthouse, starved himself, and doubted his own shadow.
But the betrayal hadn't come from just one of them.
Lying on the center of the desk was a single, printed document with a handwritten note clipped to the top.
Gabriel picked up the note. His eyes scanned the lines, and for the first time since I had met him, the invincible boss of the city looked truly, utterly shattered.
He didn't say a word. He simply handed the paper to me.
I looked down at the page. It was a signed partnership agreement between Elena, Marcus, and a federal prosecutor’s office—dated three months ago.
They weren't fighting over who would take over the syndicate.
May you like
They were selling it all to the government, piece by piece, while using Gabriel as the scapegoat to take the fall for everything.
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