Chapter 9 - The Wrath of the Rossi Empire
Through the smoke and shattered wood poured Gabriel’s elite security detail, moving with terrifying, military-grade precision.
And leading them, holding a customized SIG Sauer pistol with absolute, chilling calm, was Gabriel Rossi himself.
Marcus spun around, trying to pivot his aim toward the doorway, but before he could pull the trigger, two clean cracks echoed through the room. Marcus dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder as he collapsed hard onto the linoleum floor.
Gabriel stepped over the writhing traitor, his face carved from dark, unyielding granite. He didn't look at Marcus. His gray eyes locked entirely onto Sadie.
He crossed the room in two strides, holstering his weapon, and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her fiercely against his chest.
“Are you hurt?” Gabriel demanded, his voice tight, rough, and stripped of all composure.
“I’m fine,” Sadie breathed, burying her face against his wool coat, breathing in the familiar scent of cedar and rain. “I’m okay.”
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Gabriel held her tightly for a long moment, his chest rising and falling heavily before he turned his cold gaze down toward Marcus, who was groaning in pain on the floor.
“Take him to the harbor basement,” Gabriel told his lead enforcer without a trace of emotion. “Let him think about what happens when he touches what is mine.”
