Corrupted Empire - Nicole Fox Page 0,111

little sauce to my voice for that last sentence, and I watch Windsor’s eyebrows knit in concern. I have to remember that anyone else who’d been through a night like the one where the Cartel attacked would be absolutely traumatized.

I sniff. “They came bursting through the doors and started to round us up. I got away and called for help, but they caught me too. They were about to—” My voice breaks. “They were about to hurt the baby. Gabriel’s security team came in at the last second, and Gabriel fought his way through the ballroom to get to me and make sure the baby and I were safe. They shot him two times.”

I finish with a big fat tear rolling down my cheek. I deserve a fucking Oscar for this. Whatever steel edge Windsor came in here with has been blunted by my performance, and he hands me a tissue. When he speaks next, his voice is softer. Kinder.

“I understand that you and Gabriel have a family together, but if he’s a bad man, you’re only going to get hurt.”

I want to snap that Gabriel would never let anything happen to me, but I’m playing a part. Plus, I’m not that naive. I am a part of this now, and that might involve getting hurt somewhere down the line. I’ve made peace with that.

“Gabriel’s a good man.” I pat my tears dry like a grieving widow in a film noir. “He really cares about people. He would never do anything to hurt anybody.”

“Okay.” Windsor sighs. There goes his case. I can almost see it drifting away behind him, like smoke disappearing into the vents. “But if you did want to tell us anything, Ms. Wright, we could protect you. You and your son.”

Time for the nail in the coffin. I reach across the table and clasp Windsor’s hand, smiling as though grateful.

“Thank you, Detective Windsor, but I don’t need any help.”

He nods. “Okay. You can go.”

He escorts me back into the waiting area, where Gabriel is still in the same chair. He already completed his questioning.

“Ready to go?” Gabriel says, getting to his feet. His features pull taut as he fights through the pain.

I link my arm in his. “Let’s go.”

When we get outside, Gabriel pulls me to him on the curb before we get into the car. He kisses one cheek, then the other, and finally my forehead.

“What’s that for?” I ask, giggling.

Gabriel’s ink-black eyes swim before me. “I could have lost you that night,” he says. “I just want to make sure I cherish every last second we spend together, even if it’s outside of a police station following your interrogation regarding my criminal pursuits.”

“Alleged criminal pursuits,” I correct.

He grins. “Let’s go home.”

We have been living in the house on the leafy street for a couple of weeks now, but I’m still not used to the feeling of peace I get just from walking through the front door. It has been painted, decorated, and outfitted with handpicked furnishings, and now it is our home. This place doesn’t belong to the Bellucci dynasty or to the mob. It belongs only to us—me, Gabriel, Harry, and soon another little one who I can’t wait to meet.

I practically float through the front door. I’m so relieved that I can finally close this chapter of our life—the Cartel, Felicity Huffman, and the aftermath. It’s been a long few weeks, but it’s finally over.

“I want to sit on the deck,” I announce. Clara and Angelo have taken Harry out for the day, and since my interrogation took less time than I thought it would, we’ve got a couple hours to ourselves.

Gabriel, who had started to take his coat off, shrugs it back on. “It’s freezing outside.”

“So?” I grin.

He shakes his head, chuckling, and follows me through the house to the back door. The wooden deck was freshly stained a couple of weeks ago, and the railings painted a delicate cream. I perch on one of the comfy wooden deck chairs, and Gabriel brings me a blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders.

I have grown very fond of our backyard. It’s big, but not massive. It’s just big enough for a family like ours. There is a shed parked in the back corner, which I intend to fill with gardening tools once the spring comes back around. A crooked oak tree grows from the center of the yard, its gnarled branches reaching for the sky. Perfect for a tree house, just like Gabriel promised.

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