Chapter 2 - The House of Thorns
Nora placed her fingers on Gabriel’s forearm, feeling the coiled strength beneath his crisp white shirt. As they walked toward the heavy glass doors of the conservatory, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Society matrons who had turned their noses up at Nora five minutes ago bowed their heads in panic. Young men who had snickered hurriedly looked at the floor. Behind them, Brooke stood frozen in humiliation while Celeste frantically tried to stammer an apology to Gabriel’s stone-faced bodyguards, who merely blocked her path with silent contempt.
A sleek black Maybach rolled up to the marble entrance the second Gabriel stepped outside. The cool night air of Charleston swept over Nora’s face, clearing the suffocating smell of expensive perfumes and fake smiles. A chauffeur in a dark suit held the door open, bowing deeply as Gabriel helped Nora into the plush leather interior before sliding in beside her.
""Where are we going?"" Nora asked, pulling his jacket tighter around herself. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. She was sitting inside the private car of the city's most dangerous man, wearing her ruined dress, clutching the torn scrap of her mother’s embroidery.
""Somewhere safe,"" Gabriel replied gently, leaning back against the seat. ""Somewhere where people know how to treat a queen. But first, tell me everything. Why were you treated like an unpaid maid in that room? Your mother owned a prestigious bridal atelier before she passed. What happened to it?""
A bitter lump formed in Nora’s throat. ""When my mother got sick with cancer, she was too weak to manage the business. My father had already married Celeste. Celeste brought her daughter Brooke into our house. When Mom died, my father fell apart and let Celeste control the finances. Three years ago, my father passed away from a sudden heart attack. Celeste showed me a will that left the entire estate, the family home, and the atelier to her and Brooke. She claimed my mother’s business was drowning in debt and that she was doing me a favor by letting me live in the attic bedroom and sew for them.""
Gabriel’s eyes darkened to charcoal. ""And the designs Brooke takes credit for?""
""All mine,"" Nora confessed, looking down at her calloused fingers. ""The white gown Brooke wore tonight took me nearly forty hours of hand-beading. Celeste told me that no one would buy high fashion from a plus-size woman whose body 'ruins the aesthetic.' She convinced me that the world would only mock my work unless a thin, pretty girl like Brooke modeled it as her own.""
A terrifying smile touched the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. It was not a smile of amusement; it was the chilling grin of an apex predator that had just picked up a scent. ""They didn't just steal your labor, Nora. They stole your mother’s legacy. June Bellamy was a master artisan, but she was also a woman of immense pride and sharp business sense. She would never have left her daughter penniless, and she never ran an unprofitable ledger in her life.""
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Gabriel tapped the privacy divider, and the driver immediately turned toward the historic district of the Battery, driving toward a heavily gated waterfront estate surrounded by towering live oaks and ancient wrought iron.
""Tonight, you rest,"" Gabriel said, his tone softening as he turned back to her. ""Tomorrow morning, my forensic accountants and legal team will dismantle Celeste Bellamy’s little kingdom piece by piece. You spent your life sewing dreams for people who gave you rags. Starting tonight, we make them pay for every single stitch.""
