Chapter 5 - The Ambush at the Pier
Three weeks passed.
Winter slowly began to turn into early spring, though the cold wind off Lake Michigan remained sharp and bitter.
The estate had settled into a new, comfortable routine. Little Leo was thriving—he had gained two pounds, was beginning to crawl across the plush rugs, and had taken a hilarious liking to the formidable Mrs. Vane, who secretly fed him sweet puréed apples when Gabriel wasn't looking.
More surprisingly, Gabriel had begun spending his evenings upstairs.
The ruthless Don of Chicago—a man who had spent his life ordering executions and managing a multi-million-dollar empire—could often be found sitting on the sofa in Norah’s private sitting room, holding eight-month-old Leo on his knee while reading through financial reports.
To Leo, Gabriel wasn't a mob boss. He was simply the big man with the warm hands who let him play with his silver signet ring.
And to Norah, Gabriel had become the center of her universe.
On a rainy Tuesday morning, Dante knocked sharply on the library door.
"Boss," Dante said, stepping inside with a dark, satisfied grin on his face. "We found him."
Gabriel looked up from his desk, his eyes instantly sharpening. "Thomas?"
"He was trying to board a cargo ship out of the Port of Milwaukee using a forged Canadian passport," Dante reported. "Sal Petrovic’s men cornered him at an abandoned warehouse near Pier 9. Sal is holding him there right now. He sent a message: he wants to trade Tommy for full control of the North River docks."
Gabriel slowly stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Call Bruno. Prepare three teams."
Norah, who was walking down the hallway toward the library carrying Leo, caught the tail end of the conversation.
She stepped into the doorway, her face pale. "Gabriel... is it Tommy?"
Gabriel looked at her, his expression softening as he walked over to her. "Yes. Sal Petrovic has him."
Norah’s fingers tightened around Leo’s small blanket. "Are you going to kill him?"
Gabriel reached out, gently cupping the back of her neck. "He stole from me, Norah. He used you and Leo as human shields. In my world, that carries a heavy price."
"I don't care about Tommy," Norah said, her voice shaking with genuine emotion as she looked up into Gabriel's dark eyes. "I don't love him. I haven't loved him for a long time. But please... don't walk into a trap for him, Gabriel. Sal Petrovic wants you, not Tommy."
Gabriel smiled—a rare, breathtaking smile that lit up his dark features. He leaned down, pressing a warm, lingering kiss onto her forehead, before looking into her eyes.
"Sal Petrovic has been a thorn in my side for ten years, Norah," Gabriel said softly. "Tonight, I finish this. For my sister. For my city. And for you."
An hour later, six black armored SUVs sped down the rain-slick highway toward the abandoned warehouses of Pier 9 in Milwaukee.
The warehouse was a massive, rotting structure of corrugated steel and broken glass, surrounded by rusty shipping containers.
Gabriel stepped out of his lead vehicle, wearing a long dark coat, flanked by Dante, Bruno, and twelve heavily armed enforcers.
Inside the dark warehouse, a single floodlight lit up the center of the concrete floor.
Thomas Bennett sat tied to a wooden chair beneath the light, his face bruised, his clothes torn, his eyes wide with wild, pathetic terror.
Standing behind him was Sal Petrovic—a greasy, heavily built man in his late fifties, surrounded by twenty armed men carrying assault rifles.
"Gabriel!" Sal called out, his raspy laugh echoing off the iron rafters. "I wondered if you'd come for this little rat!"
Gabriel stopped twenty feet away, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. "You have five minutes to leave my territory, Sal."
Sal sneered, resting his hand on top of Thomas’s shoulder. "Your territory? This rat stole three hundred grand from me! And I hear you've been keeping his wife sweet and warm up in your mansion! What's the matter, Gabriel? Getting soft in your old age? Taking another man’s scraps?"
Thomas looked up at Gabriel, his voice desperate, shrill, and pathetic. "Gabriel! Please! Help me! I'll pay you back! I swear! Just get me away from this maniac! Tell Norah to give you the money!"
Gabriel looked down at Thomas Bennett.
He saw no dignity. No honor. No love for the woman and child he had left to rot in a freezing apartment.
"Norah doesn't have your money, Thomas," Gabriel said coldly, his voice echoing through the silent room. "She never did. You left her with twelve dollars and a broken door."
"She's my wife!" Thomas screamed, his eyes wild with greed. "You can't let him kill me! We're family!"
"You stopped being family the moment you used an eight-month-old child as a distraction," Gabriel replied.
Gabriel looked back at Sal Petrovic.
"The docks are mine, Sal," Gabriel declared softly. "And Thomas Bennett’s debt is settled."
Sal’s eyes narrowed in shock. "Settled? How?"
"Because," Gabriel said, stepping back into the shadows of his men, "I am taking full ownership of everything Thomas Bennett abandoned."
Before Sal could react, Dante pulled a detonator switch from his pocket.
The heavy steel doors behind Sal’s men slammed shut with a deafening hydraulic boom, as twenty Moretti enforcers dropped from the upper catwalks, weapons raised, sweeping the warehouse in a display of absolute, lethal dominance.
Within three minutes, Sal Petrovic’s crew was disarmed, broken, and forced to their knees.
Sal sat on the cold concrete, bleeding from a grazing wound on his shoulder, staring up at Gabriel in total terror.
Gabriel walked over to the tied form of Thomas Bennett.
He pulled a sleek silver pen and a legal document from his inner pocket, tossing them into Thomas's lap.
"Sign it," Gabriel commanded.
Thomas sobbed, his hands shaking as he looked at the document. "What... what is this?"
"Full, unconditional divorce papers," Gabriel said flatly. "Relinquishing all parental rights to Leo Bennett, transferring all marital assets to Norah, and an agreement to leave the state of Illinois forever under penalty of death."
Thomas didn't hesitate. He signed his name with trembling fingers, dropping the pen onto the floor.
"Am I free to go?" Thomas wept.
May you like
Gabriel looked down at him with pure, unadulterated disgust.
"Dante," Gabriel ordered, turning his back on Thomas. "Put him on a cargo ship to South America. If he ever steps foot on North American soil again... end him."
