Chapter 6 - Desperate Measures
That evening, the storm intensified, burying the city beneath twelve inches of fresh powder.
Inside a cheap, run-down motel near the industrial docks of Newark, Gabriel sat on the edge of a stained mattress, clutching an unlabelled bottle of cheap vodka.
His bespoke suit was ruined, covered in mud and grease, and his silver watch had been traded to a cab driver who refused to take his frozen credit cards.
Across the room sat Jessica Mercer, her silver gala gown replaced by an oversized gray hoodie, her mascara smeared across her red, swollen eyes.
"Gabriel, what are we doing here?" Jessica sobbed, shivering on the plastic chair by the rattling heater. "My credit cards don't work! My landlord locked me out of the penthouse this afternoon! Two strange men took my sports car from the parking garage!"
Gabriel didn't answer; he simply took another long, burning swig from the bottle.
"You said you were going to divorce her!" Jessica screamed, her voice cracking with hysterical panic.
"You promised me we would be married at the Plaza in the spring! You told me she was a pathetic, timid little mouse who would crawl back to her father with nothing!"
Gabriel hurled the glass bottle against the bathroom door, shattering it into hundreds of jagged green shards.
"Shut up!" he roared, leaping to his feet like a wild animal. "You think I care about your pathetic sports car? I lost three hundred million dollars today! My family name is ruined!"
Jessica cowered back against the peeling wallpaper, shielding her face with her arms.
Gabriel paced the narrow room, his fingernails digging deep into his palms until blood welled beneath the skin.
He pulled a disposable burner phone from his jacket pocket and dialed a number he had sworn never to call again.
The line clicked after four agonizing rings.
"Speak," a heavy, accented voice answered from the receiver.
"Viktor," Gabriel gasped, his breathing ragged. "It's Gabriel Hale. I need a contract executed tonight."
A dry, raspy chuckle echoed over the speaker.
"The disgraced former prince of the docks. We heard about your little trial today, Gabriel. Your credit is no good in this city anymore."
"I have two million in bearer bonds stashed in a private safe deposit box in Jersey City," Gabriel pleaded, sweat dripping down his nose. "I will give you the key and the security codes right now. Just kill Elias Reed and bring Nora back to me alive."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, filled only by the crackle of static.
"Elias Reed is back?" Viktor asked, the amusement completely vanishing from his voice.
"Yes! He's staying at the Vance family estate on the north shore," Gabriel urged frantically. "They think they've won! Their security detail will be relaxed tonight because of the storm!"
"Bearer bonds first, Hale," Viktor said coldly. "Leave the key in locker forty-two at the Newark train station within the hour. If the papers are real, my men will breach the north estate before midnight."
The line went dead.
Gabriel turned to Jessica, his eyes glowing with manic, unhinged triumph.
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"You see?" Gabriel sneered, grabbing his damp coat from the back of the door. "Power isn't about rules or council votes, Jessica. Power belongs to whoever is willing to spill blood."
Jessica stared at him in sheer terror, realizing too late that the powerful, glamorous billionaire she had chased was nothing more than a violent, desperate madman.
