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Gabe took a long gulp of water, then glanced her way, brow lifted, voice easy but direct. “So, what’s your story, Miss Cole?”
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “You already know my story.”
He gave a short shake of his head, eyes narrowing slightly like he was seeing past her surface. “I know your paper trail. Doesn’t mean I knowyou,and I like to know the people I’m working with.”
She let out a breath. “Cornell. Worked at a few big firms before I got tired of building someone else’s vision. Started Cole Innovations.”
Piper nodded “Big risk.”
“It wasn’t a risk. I knew what I wanted.”
Gabe smirked. “Outside of work?”
She hesitated. “I have two boys.”
Piper’s eyebrows lifted. “Didn’t peg you as a mom.”
“Most people don’t.”
Gabe grinned. “I got three. Mean little devils.” He finished off his empanada. “What does your husband do for a living?”
“My husband worked for the State Department,” she said softly, then hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Actually… he was DSS. He died in the field.”
Gabe’s expression shifted instantly, his demeanor sobering. “Damn,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He looked over at Piper, and Quinn met her eyes, then went back to Gabe’s. “That’s…” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, searching for words. “I don’t know what I’d do without my Maria.”
Quinn nodded faintly. Her voice was steady, but the ache behind it was unmistakable.
“He died here. In Venezuela.”
Gabe went still. “That’s heavy.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Now you’re here. Building an embassy on the same soil where he gave his life…”
The silence was a tribute, a quiet honoring of sacrifice and resilience. Gabe’s eyes met hers again, this time with something deeper, respect, empathy, awe.
He briefly squeezed her hand. “You’ve got more guts than most men I’ve ever known, Miss Cole.”
Quinn flinched. The sound was deafening. The first shot shattered the afternoon calm like breaking glass. She jolted, the breath yanked from her lungs. A second shot ripped through the air and a third, impossibly loud. Her ears rang, panic clawing at her ribs. The impact was like a hammer strike, sharp, hot, sudden. The force spun her sideways, pain blooming like fire beneath her sleeve. Her hand flew to the wound, fingers slick, trembling. She’d been shot. The thought spiraled like a siren in her brain.
Piper yanked her behind rebar, Gabe scrambling with them, but Quinn’s vision narrowed, panic tunneling her thoughts. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.
Chaos erupted.
Everything slowed. The noise faded. It didn’t feel real not until she saw the blood on her hand. Her blood. A deep, terrifying crimson, warm and wet between her fingers.
Shock slammed into her. Her knees gave out before she could scream, the rebar at her back the only thing keeping her from collapsing completely.
She could have died.
The thought punched through the numbness, sharp and cold. Her breath hitched as panic clawed up her throat. Where were the gunmen? Where were Langford’s people? Why weren’t they firing back?
She twisted her head, scanning wildly through the chaos, but the scene was worse than she’d realized, no return fire, no flanking maneuvers, no counteroffensive. Just her, Piper, andGabe ducked behind steel rods while men in black tactical gear advanced with chilling precision.
They were sitting ducks. Vulnerable. Unarmed. Exposed.
The mercenaries Dagger’s team had dismissed? They weren’t just incompetent. They were gone. Nowhere in sight.
Dagger was right. If he saw this, if he ever found out just how unprotected she’d really been, he’d lose his mind.
He would’ve never forgiven himself. Not if she’d bled out here, on this scorched ground, in the same country where Brian had died. Not if her boys had lost her too.