Chapter 9 - No More Shadows
Six months later, Clara Bennett walked into the St. Regis ballroom again.
The last time she had stood there, she had watched Gabriel celebrate his engagement to another woman.
Tonight, she entered on his arm.
Not behind him.
Not near the service doors.
Beside him.
The difference was small enough for strangers to miss.
Everyone who mattered understood it immediately.
The Costa empire had changed.
Gabriel had sold or closed nearly every company connected to illegal operations.
Costa Holdings remained wealthy, but legitimate.
Real estate.
Logistics.
Hotels.
Commercial development.
The transition had created enemies.
It had also created something Gabriel had never possessed before.
A future that didn't require constantly looking over his shoulder.
Clara had built something too.
Bennett Risk & Strategy occupied an office eight blocks away.
Her first clients had nothing to do with Gabriel.
She insisted on that.
Within six months, she had twelve employees.
Gabriel pretended not to be proud whenever newspapers mentioned her company.
He was terrible at pretending.
That evening's event was a charity fundraiser honoring witnesses who had helped dismantle a massive organized-crime financial network.
Marco joined them near the ballroom entrance.
He looked at Clara.
“Pink?”
Clara glanced down at her pale rose-colored dress.
“You dislike it?”
“No. Gabriel has been staring at you for eleven consecutive minutes. I'm concerned he may walk into furniture.”
Gabriel looked at his brother.
“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Marco disappeared into the crowd.
Clara smiled.
“You are staring.”
“I haven't seen that dress.”
“You don't own my wardrobe.”
“I wasn't complaining.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Gabriel leaned closer.
“You look beautiful.”
This time the words did not sound like a problem.
They sounded like gratitude.
Later, Clara slipped onto the balcony for air.
Chicago glittered below.
Gabriel joined her.
“No security tablet?” he asked.
“Not my job anymore.”
“You're enjoying that.”
“Immensely.”
He handed her champagne.
For a while, they stood silently.
Then Gabriel said, “I bought the clock shop.”
Clara turned.
“What?”
“Your grandfather's shop.”
“Why?”
“I thought you might want it.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
Gabriel immediately corrected himself.
“Wrong phrasing.”
“Very.”
“I bought it because the building was scheduled for demolition. It's now legally held by a preservation trust.”
Clara relaxed.
“And?”
“And you decide what happens to it.”
She stared at him.
“You're learning.”
“Painfully.”
“What do you want to happen?”
“That's a dangerous question.”
“Answer it.”
Gabriel looked toward the skyline.
“I thought maybe a scholarship foundation. In your father's name.”
Clara became quiet.
“For kids whose families get destroyed by organized crime,” he continued. “Education, housing, legal assistance.”
Emotion tightened her throat.
“That’s actually a good idea.”
“I occasionally have them.”
“Marco said that was a rumor.”
Gabriel smiled.
Then his expression shifted.
He reached into his pocket.
Clara immediately noticed.
“Gabriel.”
“What?”
“If you kneel at this fundraiser, I will throw you off this balcony.”
He looked offended.
“I wasn't going to kneel.”
“You have a ring.”
“I do.”
“Gabriel Costa.”
“Clara Bennett.”
“Don't.”
He took out a small velvet box.
“I said don't kneel.”
“I heard you.”
He remained standing.
That alone made her laugh.
Gabriel opened the box.
Inside was not an enormous mafia-dynasty diamond.
It was a simple vintage ring.
Clara recognized it.
Her mother's.
She stopped breathing.
“How?”
“Your aunt had it.”
“You found Aunt Margaret?”
“She dislikes me.”
“She has excellent instincts.”
“Apparently.”
Clara touched the ring.
Gabriel didn't take her hand.
He simply held the box.
“I spent most of my life believing love meant keeping someone close enough that nothing could take them from me.”
His voice became quieter.
“You taught me that love doesn't work when the door is locked.”
Clara's eyes filled.
“I don't want you because you manage my life. I don't want you because you fix things. I don't want you because you know where the bodies are buried.”
“That last one is romantic.”
“Clara.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled.
“I want you because when everything unnecessary is stripped away, you're the person I want to come home to.”
Clara looked at him.
“So I'm asking.”
Gabriel inhaled.
“Will you marry me?”
Clara waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Gabriel's confidence began visibly deteriorating.
She almost enjoyed it.
Then a waiter rushed onto the balcony.
“Mr. Costa?”
Gabriel turned.
The waiter held an envelope.
“This was delivered downstairs.”
Gabriel opened it.
His face changed.
Clara took the paper.
Only one sentence had been typed.
THOMAS BENNETT WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO SURVIVED THAT NIGHT.
Beneath it was a photograph.
A woman standing beside Clara's father.
Clara knew the face.
Her mother.
The woman Clara had been told died of cancer fourteen years earlier.
On the back was an address.
May you like
And a date.
Tomorrow.
