Chapter 12 - Venomous Whispers
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Harper couldn't sleep. The grand room was luxurious, filled with the rich scent of cedar and lavender, but every creek of the old floorboards made her heart hammer against her ribs.
She crept out of bed, wrapping a silk robe around her slender shoulders, and walked down the grand staircase toward the dim light bleeding from the study.
Gabriel sat behind his desk, illuminated only by the green glow of a banker’s lamp. He was reading through legal files, his dark hair slightly disheveled.
"You should be resting, Harper," he said without looking up, his senses razor-sharp.
Harper hesitated at the threshold, her bare feet silent against the Persian rug.
"I heard the men talking in the hallway," she said softly.
"Viktor Vance is coming for us, isn't he? I brought a war to your doorstep, Gabriel."
Gabriel set his pen down and looked up. He stood, walking around the massive desk until he was standing just two feet away from her. The height difference was staggering, yet Harper didn't feel threatened.
"You didn't bring anything, Harper," Gabriel said gently.
"Vance and Lawson have been a cancer on Boston for years. You simply gave me a reason to cut them out."
"Lawson has federal backing, Gabriel," Harper warned, tears glistening in her eyes.
"He has badges, warrants, and prosecutors in his pocket. He can frame you. He can take Noah."
Gabriel reached out, his thumb gently catching a stray teardrop rolling down her cheek. His touch was shockingly warm, surprisingly gentle for hands that had committed so many violent acts.
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"Lawson has badges," Gabriel agreed softly.
"But I have power. And more importantly, I have a team of lawyers who eat federal prosecutors for breakfast. Go back to bed, Harper. Tomorrow, we take the offensive."
