Chapter 3 - The Target on My BackThe realization hit me like a physical blow. The Irish syndicate—headed by Liam O'Connor, Gabriel’s most brutal competitor—wasn't just waging a territory war. They had realized that the invisible woman managing Mercer Holdings was the key to breaking Gabriel Mercer.
"They think you're my weakness," Gabriel said, walking to a hidden wall safe in his study and pulling out two black handguns. He loaded them with practiced, terrifying speed.
"Am I?" I asked softly, standing in the doorway of his study, my emerald dress flowing around my ankles.
Gabriel stopped. He racked the slide of the gun, set it on the desk, and walked over to me. He reached out, his warm fingers brushing back a lock of my hair.
"You're not my weakness, Chastity," he murmured, his eyes locking onto mine with fierce devotion. "You're the only reason I care about staying alive. Which means I am going to tear O'Connor's empire apart piece by piece before he ever lays a finger on you."
Over the next twenty-four hours, the penthouse became a command center.
The quiet, reserved secretary in me vanished, replaced by the brilliant strategist Gabriel had relied on for three years. While Gabriel’s enforcers patrolled the streets and raided Irish safehouses, I sat at his grand oak desk in my silk robe, analyzing financial records, tracking encrypted offshore transactions, and pinpointing the exact shell company funding O'Connor's hit squads.
Gabriel sat across from me, reviewing tactical reports, but every few minutes, his eyes would drift to me. The professional barrier between us had completely dissolved. When I handed him an encrypted ledger, his fingers would linger over mine. When I rubbed my exhausted temples, he would stand up, place his massive hands on my shoulders, and knead the tension away with surprising gentleness.
"You're brilliant, you know that?" Gabriel murmured on Sunday evening, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck as I mapped out O'Connor's bank accounts.
"I've been brilliant for three years," I teased softly, leaning back into his chest. "You were just too blind to notice."
Gabriel chuckled—a low, sexy sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I wasn't blind. I was terrified."
"The feared mafia kingpin of Boston... terrified?" I turned my head to look at him.
"Terrified of this," Gabriel admitted, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me tight against him. "Terrified of loving someone so much that it gives my enemies a target. But I was wrong to hide it. I'm never hiding you again."
My heart swelled with a deep, overwhelming warmth. For three years, I had loved this man from afar, believing he was a creature of ice and stone. Now, wrapped in his arms, I knew he was capable of a fierce, unyielding love.
"I found it," I suddenly said, pointing at the monitor. "Look at this ledger. O'Connor isn't just planning a hit. He’s hosting an underground auction at the North End docks tomorrow night to sell off seized Mercer shipments... and he's using a private bank account registered in Switzerland."
Gabriel leaned over my shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he read the screen. "That bank account belongs to Councilor Vance... Julian’s father."
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My jaw dropped. "Julian?"
"The man who took you to the gala," Gabriel growled, his jaw clenching tightly. "He wasn't just courting you, Chastity. He was setting you up."
