Chapter 12 - The Broken Vow
The cold voice on the speaker belonged to Helena Vance—the sole heiress of the Vance empire and the woman Gabriel had been betrothed to five years ago in an arranged mob treaty he had violently walked away from.
Gabriel’s fingers curled into white-knuckled fists. "Helena. If your scouts set foot within five miles of my perimeter again, I won't just kill them. I will mail their remains to your father’s penthouse in Lake Forest."
A melodic, cruel laugh echoed through the speaker. "Always so theatrical, Gabriel. But you forget the rules of the High Table. You walked away from our blood pact to play king of Boston on your own terms. We allowed it because your ports made us billions. But then you destroyed Miller’s precinct. You allowed federal agents to audit the dock accounts just to avenge a battered cleaning woman."
Clara stepped closer to the phone. She didn’t shrink back. She didn’t look at Gabriel for permission. Her voice cut across the room with sharp, unwavering clarity.
"That 'cleaning woman' put your corrupt puppets behind bars, Miss Vance. And if you think Gabriel is fighting this war alone, you’ve severely underestimated who runs this household."
A brief, icy silence fell across the line. Helena Vance had clearly not expected the former maid to speak.
"How quaint," Helena said, her tone dripping with venomous amusement. "The stray dog learned how to bark. Enjoy your borrowed palace while you can, Clara. Father has called an assembly of the Five Families tonight at the Harbor Crown Hotel. If Gabriel does not appear alone, with signed transfer deeds for the South Boston shipping docks, we will not come for him. We will collect the debt from the boy."
The line went dead with a hollow click.
Gabriel instantly reached out, pulling Clara flush against his chest, his arms locking around her like an iron vault. "You shouldn't have provoked her," he murmured against her temple, though his eyes held fierce admiration.
"I spent years running from Derek because I thought hiding would keep Noah safe," Clara said, staring directly into Gabriel's dark eyes. "It didn't. Running only makes wolves hungry. What is the Harbor Crown assembly?"
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"A setup," Gabriel answered flatly. "They want me isolated away from my perimeter defense. They expect me to grovel to save my empire."
"Then don't grovel," Clara said, her fingers resting over the heavy silver watch on his wrist. "Make them bleed."
