Chapter 4 - The Recognition
Madison Cole raised her phone, though her hand was trembling slightly now. The presence of the large man in the suit felt heavy, suffocating—like the air pressure before a tornado strike.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Madison snapped, trying to maintain her cheerful live-stream persona. "Her bodyguard? You can't just bust into a private restaurant and try to intimidate—"
Evan Price stood up from his chair.
He had been planning to throw his family’s legal name around. He had been planning to mention his father's partnership in Price & Associates.
Then Evan saw the white-haired giant standing near the door—Viktor—and his gaze shifted back to the scarred face of the man standing beside the soaked waitress.
Evan’s blood ran ice-cold.
Three months ago, Evan had accompanied his father to a private charity gala in the Harbor District. He had seen this man sitting at a corner table surrounded by city councilmen, police commissioners, and shipping magnates. He had watched his father—a man who terrified junior partners at his law firm—bow his head respectfully before speaking to him.
Evan’s phone slipped from his fingers, clattering against his wine glass before falling onto the floor.
"M-Mr... Mr. Moretti..." Evan stammered, his lips turning white. "Sir... I..."
Madison glared at her boyfriend. "Evan? What are you doing? Who is this guy?"
"Shut up, Madison!" Evan shrieked, his voice cracking with sheer panic. He reached out and tried to slap her phone out of her hand. "Shut the stream off! SHUT IT OFF NOW!"
"What is your problem?!" Madison yelled, pulling her phone away. "I have eighty thousand viewers! This is going viral!"
Gabriel didn't shout. He didn't raise his fist.
He took three slow steps forward until he stood directly at the edge of Table 12.
He reached out his broad, calloused right hand, picked up Madison’s glass of Pinot Grigio, and turned it over.
The wine poured out in a pale, red stream, splashing directly over Madison’s three-thousand-dollar white designer dress and soaking her bare legs.
Madison let out an ear-piercing scream, jumping out of her chair. "MY DRESS! ARE YOU CRAZY?! DO YOU KNOW WHO MY FATHER IS?!"
"I don't care if your father is the Pope," Gabriel said quietly, stepping closer until Madison was forced to back up against the railing. "You poured dark liquid over my wife for entertainment."
Madison froze. Her breath caught in her throat. "Your... your what?"
Gabriel turned his eyes to Evan.
"Evan Price," Gabriel said, remembering the face from his private dossiers. "Son of Arthur Price. Senior partner at Price & Associates."
Evan fell to his knees beside the table, his expensive Italian leather shoes dragging through the spilled wine and Coca-Cola on the floor.
"Mr. Moretti... please..." Evan sobbed, clutching his hands together in a desperate plea. "I didn't know she was married to you! I swear to God I didn't know! Madison was just doing a prank for her followers! I tried to stop her!"
"You applauded," Claire’s calm voice echoed from behind Gabriel.
Evan looked back at Claire, his face distorted by terror. "Miss... Mrs. Moretti! Please! Tell him! I didn't touch you! I didn't pour the drink!"
"You laughed," Claire said simply, her arms wrapped tightly inside Gabriel’s jacket. "You told her I couldn't move fast enough because of my weight. And then you asked if my husband was going to write a bad review."
Gabriel looked down at Evan lying on the floor.
"Viktor," Gabriel said softly.
May you like
"Yes, Don Gabriel?" Viktor answered from the doorway.
"Call Arthur Price," Gabriel instructed, his voice as calm as a frozen lake. "Tell him that his son’s presence in Harbor City is no longer requested. And tell him that the Apex Logistics contract... is officially dead."
