Chapter 11 - The Shadow of Beacon Hill
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By midnight, the third-floor guest suite of the mansion had been transformed into an impenetrable fortress.
A team of private doctors, bound by non-disclosure agreements and Gabriel's lethal reputation, had cleaned Harper’s wounds and given Noah a mild sedative. The young boy was sound asleep under a heavy down comforter, his hand still holding onto his sister’s thumb.
Gabriel stood by the fireplace in the library, holding a glass of neat bourbon. Marcus stood across from him, laying out a series of surveillance photographs on the dark mahogany desk.
"Lawson isn't working alone, Gabriel," Marcus said, pointing at a grainy photograph taken at the Boston fish pier.
"He’s on Viktor Vance’s payroll. Vance is using Lawson’s badge to clear his illegal maritime shipments through Harbor Security. Harper stumbled into their exchange while working her night shift at the precinct."
Gabriel took a slow sip of his drink, his face carved from marble.
"So Lawson tried to silence her before she could talk to internal affairs."
"Precisely," Marcus confirmed.
"And now Vance knows she fled into Beacon Hill. Vance sent a message through his lieutenant two hours ago. He wants the girl handed over before sunrise, or he threatens to turn the docks into a war zone."
A cold, dark smile touched Gabriel’s lips. It was the kind of smile that made seasoned hitmen step backward.
"Vance forgets who owns this city," Gabriel murmured softly.
"Tell my men to lock down every harbor entrance. Double the guard on the estate perimeter."
"And the girl?" Marcus asked.
May you like
"She stays here," Gabriel commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Under my personal watch. If Vance or Lawson want her, they’ll have to walk over my dead body first."
