Chapter 6 - THE MAN BENEATH THE WATER
Norah jumped before anyone could stop her.
The river closed over her head.
Cold water struck the wound in her thigh like a blade. Her dress dragged around her legs. Smoke and burning debris darkened the surface above.
She saw nothing.
Then a shape moved beneath her.
Gabriel.
He was sinking near one of the dock supports, unconscious, his jacket caught on a broken metal bracket.
Norah swam down.
Her lungs tightened.
She pulled at the fabric.
It did not move.
Above them, flames reflected across the water.
She reached for the small knife strapped beneath her dress and cut through the jacket.
The fabric tore.
Gabriel’s body became free.
Norah wrapped an arm around his chest and kicked upward.
Pain exploded through her leg.
For one terrible moment, they continued sinking.
Then hands reached into the water.
Matteo and Amos dragged them onto the dock.
Norah collapsed beside Gabriel.
He was not breathing.
“Move,” Matteo ordered.
He began chest compressions.
Norah could not look away.
Gabriel’s face had lost all color. Water ran from his hair. A cut above his temple bled down his cheek.
Matteo pressed again.
“Come on.”
Nothing.
Norah grabbed Gabriel’s hand.
It was cold.
“No.”
She had spent four years preparing for threats to his life.
She had imagined bullets, betrayal, arrest, war.
She had never imagined silence.
“Gabriel,” she said.
Matteo continued compressions.
“Breathe.”
Norah leaned closer.
“You do not get to decide I’ll be safe and then leave me.”
Still nothing.
“You do not get to order me out of your life.”
Matteo breathed into Gabriel’s lungs.
Norah tightened her grip.
“You do not get to die for me.”
Gabriel coughed.
Water spilled from his mouth.
He dragged in a ragged breath.
Norah closed her eyes.
For a second, the burning estate disappeared.
Only relief remained.
Then Gabriel opened his eyes and looked directly at her.
“You jumped.”
His voice was barely audible.
“You sank.”
“That was not permission.”
She laughed and cried at the same time.
Gabriel lifted a weak hand toward her face.
Then his eyes closed again.
An ambulance carried him to a secure hospital under federal guard.
Matteo was treated for the gunshot wound.
Norah needed another round of stitches.
Sloan sat in an interrogation room.
Peter Vale disappeared during the explosion.
Lucian Devereaux escaped by boat.
By morning, every network in the country carried images of the ruined wedding.
Headlines called it an organized-crime war.
Politicians denied knowing either family.
Guests who had begged for invitations claimed they had attended under professional obligation.
Gabriel woke sixteen hours later.
Norah was asleep in a chair beside the bed.
Her head rested against the wall.
Her hand was still wrapped around his.
He watched her for a long moment.
Without the sharp clothes and controlled expression she wore at work, she looked younger. Exhausted. Human in a way he had rarely allowed her to be.
He moved his fingers.
Her eyes opened immediately.
“You’re awake.”
“So are you.”
“I was not sleeping.”
“You were snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
“It was alarming.”
She stared at him.
Then she realized he was teasing her.
“You nearly died.”
“So did you.”
“That is not relevant.”
“It is extremely relevant.”
A doctor entered and examined him.
Mild concussion.
Water inhalation.
Two cracked ribs.
He would recover.
When the doctor left, Norah handed Gabriel a phone.
“Matteo wants to speak with you.”
Gabriel ignored it.
“Where is Sloan?”
“Federal custody.”
“Lucian?”
“Gone.”
“Vale?”
“Also gone.”
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“The explosion was his escape plan.”
“Yes.”
“How many dead?”
“Seven. Four Devereaux guards. Two catering staff. One federal officer.”
His jaw tightened.
“Injured?”
“Twenty-three.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
The dead were not abstractions to him.
Every casualty became a debt.
“Lucian will go to Blackwood,” Norah said.
Gabriel looked at her.
“You think he’ll return to Evelyn?”
“He needs leverage.”
“He already knows you want her.”
“He has always known.”
Gabriel pushed himself upright.
Pain crossed his face.
Norah pressed a hand against his shoulder.
“You are not leaving.”
“You entered a bridal suite after being stabbed.”
“And it was irresponsible.”
“Then we agree.”
“You have cracked ribs.”
“You have torn stitches.”
“You drowned.”
“You jumped into a river.”
They stared at each other.
Neither won.
The phone rang again.
Matteo.
Gabriel answered.
“What?”
“Good morning to you too,” Matteo said. “We found Lucian’s boat.”
“Where?”
“Abandoned twelve miles downstream. Blood on the seat.”
“His?”
“Unknown. But a vehicle was waiting near the shore.”
“Blackwood?”
“Possibly.”
“Prepare the helicopter.”
Norah took the phone from Gabriel.
“No helicopter.”
Matteo paused.
“Norah?”
“He cannot fly with water in his lungs.”
Gabriel reached for the phone.
She moved it away.
Matteo sounded amused.
“I will let you two resolve command structure.”
He ended the call.
Gabriel stared at Norah.
“You took my phone.”
“You were making poor decisions.”
“You are employed by me.”
“Technically, I am presumed dead.”
“Then technically, you are trespassing.”
A knock came at the door.
Agent Keller entered.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair cut at the jaw and the tired eyes of someone who had spent too many years watching powerful men avoid consequences.
“You look better than the last time I saw you,” she told Gabriel.
“When was that?”
“Face down in a river.”
“I’ve had worse introductions.”
Keller placed a folder on the bed.
“Lucian’s accounts are being frozen. Three officials have resigned. Two are requesting immunity.”
“And Romano Maritime?”
“Still under review.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“We had an agreement.”
“We have a developing situation.”
“That means no.”
“It means I cannot promise what prosecutors will do.”
Norah watched Gabriel carefully.
He had surrendered evidence believing it would protect his people.
Now the government was retreating.
Keller continued.
“However, I can guarantee consideration if Lucian Devereaux is captured alive.”
Gabriel gave a humorless smile.
“You want me to find him.”
“You know him.”
“I also want to kill him.”
“That is why I emphasized alive.”
Norah opened the folder.
Inside was a photograph from a traffic camera.
A black SUV on a rural highway.
The timestamp was six hours earlier.
“Virginia,” she said.
“Thirty miles from Blackwood,” Keller replied.
Gabriel swung his legs off the bed.
Norah blocked him.
“No.”
Keller watched them.
“Is she always like this?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said.
“No,” Norah answered.
Gabriel stood anyway.
His face tightened from pain.
Norah moved closer in case he fell.
He noticed.
“I can walk.”
“So could I.”
“That did not stop me carrying you.”
“You enjoyed being dramatic.”
“I enjoyed knowing where you were.”
The truth beneath the sentence silenced them both.
Keller cleared her throat.
“I’ll wait outside.”
After she left, Norah faced him.
“You cannot go after Lucian in this condition.”
“He has your mother.”
“We do not know that.”
“You believe it.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at her as though the answer should have been obvious.
“Because you jumped into a river for me.”
“That does not create a lifelong obligation.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“It creates a choice.”
“What choice?”
“To stop pretending you are only my assistant.”
Norah’s breath caught.
Gabriel lifted his hand and touched the side of her face.
For four years, he had maintained distance because distance made leadership easier.
Now distance felt like a lie.
“I should have seen you,” he said.
“You saw my work.”
“I saw what you allowed me to see.”
“You never looked for more.”
“No.”
The admission hurt because it was true.
Gabriel’s thumb moved lightly across her cheek.
“I am looking now.”
Norah’s eyes lowered.
“You are injured.”
“I have been injured before.”
“You nearly died.”
“So did you.”
“That does not make this wise.”
“I have never claimed wisdom.”
He leaned down.
The kiss was gentle.
That surprised her.
Gabriel Romano did nothing gently. Not negotiations. Not revenge. Not control.
But his mouth touched hers as though she were something he feared breaking.
Norah held still for one heartbeat.
Then she kissed him back.
Four years of silence collapsed between them.
When they separated, Gabriel rested his forehead against hers.
“Still think I should stay here?”
“Yes.”
He almost laughed.
Then Matteo called again.
This time, Norah answered.
“We found something at Blackwood,” he said.
“What?”
“A woman appeared at an upstairs window.”
May you like
Norah stopped breathing.
“She matches the age Evelyn Quinn would be now.”
