She Begged the Mafia Don Not to Hurt Her Baby, but What He Did Next Left His Own Men Speechless

When the vault door finally unlocked with a heavy pneumatic hiss, Gabriel was standing in the doorway.

He looked terrifying. His gray sweater was torn and stained with soot and blood. His face was covered in grime, a small cut bleeding down his cheekbone, but his eyes were bright, fierce, and entirely focused on her.

Behind him stood Dante, holding a blood-soaked bandage to his shoulder, but smiling grimly.

"Gabriel!" Norah cried out, setting Leo into Mrs. Rossi's arms and running across the concrete floor into Gabriel’s arms.

She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder, ignoring the smell of gunpowder and blood that clung to him. Gabriel held her tightly, lifting her slightly off her feet, pressing his face into her dark hair.

"It's over," Gabriel rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion. "Radrenko's strike force was eliminated. Radrenko himself was taken down at the gate."

Norah pulled back, her hands framing his bruised face, her thumbs gently wiping blood away from his cut. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing," he murmured, his eyes searching her face with fierce possession. "They tried to take you from me, Norah. I destroyed them for it."

"The Bratva won't come back?" she asked softly.

"There is no one left to come back," Dante chimed in from the doorway with a dark smirk. "The Moretti family controls North Chicago completely now. The war is finished."

Gabriel led Norah up out of the vault into the main house. The conservatory was ruined, but the main structure remained intact, already being swarmed by cleanup crews and contractors repairing the damage.

Gabriel guided her to his private quarters on the third floor—a master suite that no one, not even Mrs. Rossi, was usually allowed to enter without permission. The room was massive, featuring a king-sized canopy bed, a grand fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forested grounds.

Gabriel sat heavily on the edge of the bed, letting out a long sigh as he unbuttoned his ruined sweater, tossing it onto the floor.

Norah walked over to the adjoining bath, fetched a warm, damp cloth and a first-aid kit, and sat beside him on the mattress.

"Hold still," she murmured softly.

She gently began cleaning the cut on his cheekbone. Gabriel didn't move an inch, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her face as she worked. The tenderness of her touch was a stark contrast to the violence he had dealt with all afternoon.

"Why did you do it, Gabriel?" Norah asked quietly, applying a band-aid to his cheek. "You could have stayed in the safe room with us. You could have let your men handle it."

"A leader doesn't hide behind his men when his family is threatened," Gabriel said simply.

Norah froze, her hand resting against his jaw. "Family?"