Chapter 6 - The Betrayal
For one terrible second, Clara believed what she saw.
Gabriel stood beside Salvatore.
Gun raised.
Expression empty.
Paul Marino smiled.
“I told you, Clara. Blood always wins.”
Clara looked at Gabriel.
He gave her nothing.
No signal.
No reassurance.
Nothing.
Salvatore held out his hand.
“The ledger.”
Clara's fingers tightened around the bag.
“You murdered my father.”
“He became inconvenient.”
The casualness of the answer made her stomach turn.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas was idealistic enough to believe numbers should tell the truth.”
Salvatore smiled.
“In our world, numbers tell whatever story the surviving man pays them to tell.”
Clara looked at Gabriel.
“And him?”
“My nephew finally remembered what family means.”
Paul laughed.
“After some persuasion.”
Clara noticed Gabriel's left hand.
Two fingers moved slightly.
Once.
Twice.
A signal.
Four years of meetings had taught Clara Gabriel's silent language.
Wait.
She forced herself not to react.
Salvatore stepped closer.
“The ledger.”
Clara removed it.
Paul reached for it.
Gabriel fired.
The bullet struck Paul's shoulder.
Chaos erupted.
Gabriel grabbed Clara and pulled her behind a concrete column as his security team emerged from both entrances.
Salvatore fired wildly.
Paul dropped behind a bench.
Police sirens sounded outside.
Clara looked at Gabriel.
“You could have warned me!”
“You were being watched.”
“You pointed a gun at me!”
“It wasn't loaded.”
“That does not improve the experience!”
A bullet struck the column.
Gabriel leaned out and returned fire.
“Can we argue later?”
“I’m scheduling it.”
“Good.”
Paul escaped through a maintenance corridor.
Salvatore wasn't as lucky.
Marco tackled his uncle near the platform stairs.
When police entered, Salvatore Costa was on the floor with Marco's knee against his back.
The operation should have ended there.
It didn't.
Salvatore began laughing.
Gabriel approached him.
“What?”
“You think Paul is the problem?”
“He's about to be.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“You still don't understand.”
His eyes shifted toward Clara.
“Ask her why Thomas kept two ledgers.”
Clara froze.
“What?”
Salvatore smiled.
“The one you found proves corruption. The second one destroys the Costa family.”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“Where is it?”
“Thomas died before he told me.”
Salvatore looked at Clara.
“But I think his daughter knows.”
“I don't.”
“You will.”
Police pulled him away.
By morning, the arrest had become public.
Not the mafia part.
The newspapers reported Salvatore Costa had been arrested in connection with financial crimes and a decades-old homicide investigation.
Paul Marino disappeared.
Isabella entered protective custody.
And Gabriel canceled his engagement.
Publicly.
Immediately.
No diplomatic language.
No delay.
No merger.
Clara watched the announcement from Gabriel's office.
He entered afterward.
“It’s done.”
“The engagement?”
“Yes.”
“You just started a war.”
“It was already a war.”
Clara looked at him.
“You didn't have to cancel it publicly.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
Gabriel approached.
“Because you were right.”
She blinked.
He continued.
“I spent years telling myself Isabella was business and you understood that. What I actually did was ask you to accept less because it was convenient for me.”
Clara said nothing.
“I treated your loyalty as permanent.”
“Gabriel—”
“No. Let me finish. I'm unlikely to attempt emotional maturity twice.”
That made her laugh despite herself.
He stepped closer.
“I don't want Isabella.”
“I know.”
“I never did.”
“I know that too.”
“I want you.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Clara's heart betrayed her by beating faster.
“But wanting me doesn't mean you get me.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I know.”
That surprised her.
“And I'm still resigning.”
Pain crossed his face.
This time, he did not hide it.
“All right.”
Clara stared.
“All right?”
“I said I wouldn't stop you when this was finished.”
“You're actually letting me leave?”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Gabriel almost smiled.
“I'm not letting you do anything. You're leaving because you're choosing to leave.”
The distinction mattered.
More than Clara wanted it to.
He reached into his jacket.
Her passport.
Her banking cards.
A new phone.
And her apartment keys.
“Everything is restored.”
She accepted them.
“What will you do?”
“Find Paul Marino.”
“And the second ledger?”
“That too.”
Clara nodded.
She should have walked away immediately.
Instead she asked, “What happens after that?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“I build something you wouldn't have to disappear from.”
Clara's throat tightened.
She turned before he could see.
Three hours later, she boarded a flight.
Not London.
Boston.
She rented a small apartment overlooking the Charles River.
She bought furniture herself.
She found a consulting job under her own name.
For the first time in four years, nobody followed her.
Nobody ordered her schedule.
Nobody needed her to clean up blood.
Two weeks passed.
Then three.
Gabriel never called.
It hurt more than she expected.
On the twenty-third morning, Clara opened her apartment door.
A package waited outside.
No return address.
Inside was her father's old wristwatch.
The one that had disappeared after his death.
Clara turned it over.
Something was engraved into the back.
C.B. — TRUST THE TIME BETWEEN 11:17 AND 11:19.
Her father had died at 11:18 p.m.
Clara stared at the watch.
Then she heard movement behind her.
She turned.
A man stood at the end of the hallway.
May you like
Paul Marino.
And he was holding a gun.
