Chapter 9 - The Mafia Don
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Trust in the Salvatore household was a fragile, dangerous illusion.
It shattered on a humid Tuesday evening. Clare had put Maya and Leo to bed and went down to the kitchen for a glass of water. She heard voices echoing from the attached underground garage. The door was slightly ajar.
Clare hesitated, her curiosity overriding her survival instincts. She crept to the door and peered through the crack.
The sprawling garage was dimly lit. Gabriel stood in the center of the concrete floor, his crisp white shirt rolled up to the elbows. Two of his men were holding a badly beaten, bloodied man on his knees.
“You skimmed from the shipment, Marco,” Gabriel’s voice was devoid of all humanity. It was a cold, mechanical sound. “You stole from my family to pay your gambling debts to the Colombians.”
“I swear to God, Boss, I was going to put it back!” the man sobbed, spitting blood onto the floor.
Gabriel didn't yell. He didn't monologue. He simply pulled a sleek, suppressed pistol from his shoulder holster.
“Your debts are paid,” Gabriel said softly.
He raised the weapon and fired a single shot into the man’s chest.
Clare gasped, stumbling backward. The sound of her foot hitting a metal bucket echoed like a gunshot in the silent kitchen.
Gabriel’s head snapped toward the door. His dark eyes widened in sheer panic as he realized she had seen everything.
Clare turned and ran. She sprinted up the marble staircase, her breath tearing through her lungs. She had traded a domestic abuser for a cold-blooded murderer. She reached her bedroom and frantically began stuffing clothes into a duffel bag, her hands shaking violently.
The bedroom door opened slowly.
Gabriel stood there, his gun holstered, his hands raised in a placating gesture. He looked terrified.
“Clare, please,” he whispered.
“Don't come near me!” she screamed, backing away until she hit the wall. “You killed him! You just murdered a man in cold blood!”
“I am the head of a syndicate, Clare,” Gabriel said, his voice pleading, stripped of its usual armor. “In my world, if I show weakness, my enemies will slaughter everyone in this house. Including you. Including my son.”
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“I can't be part of this,” Clare wept, clutching her bag.
“You already are,” Gabriel said softly, stepping closer. “I didn't want you to see the monster I have to be. I only wanted you to see the father I am trying to become.”
