Chapter 7 - Thunder On The Terrace
A black Bell 429 twin-engine helicopter descended through the rain and cloud cover, hovering just thirty feet off the penthouse terrace, its searchlight bathing the concrete deck in blinding daylight. The downwash from the massive rotor blades whipped the torrential rain into a violent hurricane, knocking the mercenary off his balance.
Before the gunman could recover, the helicopter’s side door slid open.
Gabriel Moretti didn't wait for a landing skid. Fast-roping down onto the slippery terrace in his tailored suit, his movement was a blur of lethal, kinetic violence. He hit the deck rolling, drew a custom black semi-automatic pistol from his shoulder holster, and fired two precise rounds through the mercenary’s chest before the man could even raise his weapon.
The killer collapsed backward onto the rain-drenched tiles, lifeless.
Gabriel didn't spare the body a second glance. He holstered his weapon and sprinted across the slick terrace toward Rebecca, who was huddled against the glass balustrade, soaked to the bone and trembling violently from the adrenaline.
""Rebecca!""
He dropped to his knees, pulling her into his arms with a ferocity that took her breath away. His hands cupped her face, his stormy eyes wild with a panic she had never seen in him before. The untouchable mafia billionaire was completely undone by the mere thought of her being hurt.
""Did they touch you? Did he shoot you?"" Gabriel demanded, his voice hoarse over the thundering roar of the helicopter hovering above.
""No... no, I hit him with a bookend,"" Rebecca gasped, clinging to his wet lapels as tears mingled with the rain streaming down her face. ""Gabriel, you came... you jumped out of a helicopter...""
Gabriel pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his entire body shuddering with an overwhelming wave of relief. ""I told you, Little Bird. As long as I draw breath, no one will ever harm you again. You are mine to protect.""
Adrien appeared at the broken terrace doorway, clutching his wounded shoulder, followed by a dozen heavily armed Moretti tactical operatives who had retaken the penthouse.
""The building is fully secured, Mr. Moretti,"" Adrien shouted over the storm. ""Four hostiles neutralized. One captured alive. He’s already singing. Daniel Mercer orchestrated this hit from inside the federal detention center using a smuggled burner phone.""
Gabriel slowly rose to his feet, lifting Rebecca effortlessly into his arms as though she weighed nothing at all. As he carried her past the shattered glass and into the safety of the penthouse, the warmth in his eyes hardened into absolute, unyielding obsidian.
""Contact the director of the Bureau of Prisons,"" Gabriel commanded coldly. ""Inform him that Daniel Mercer is to be transferred to the highest-security federal isolation wing in Florence, Colorado, within the hour. No visitors. No phone privileges. No commissary. If he so much as looks at another guard with a pencil, that guard will answer to me.""
""Understood, sir,"" Adrien replied.
Gabriel carried Rebecca straight into his private master suite—an untouched inner sanctuary behind reinforced steel doors. He set her down gently on the edge of the king-sized bed, immediately wrapping her in a dry, thick down comforter.
""Take off the wet clothes,"" he ordered softly, his voice dropping back into its tender cadence. ""I will have my personal nurse check you over again.""
""Stay,"" Rebecca whispered, reaching out from beneath the blanket to grab his wrist. Her fingers curled around the falcon tattoo. ""Please, Gabriel. Don't leave me alone tonight.""
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Gabriel looked down at her hand, his stormy eyes softening into something raw and beautiful. He knelt beside the bed, bringing her cold fingers to his lips, pressing a gentle, reverent kiss against her knuckles.
""I'm not going anywhere, Rebecca,"" he promised. ""Not tonight. Not ever.""
