Page 60 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Amara

W e were getting married in three days.

The preparations were in full swing with florists, tailors, security teams, and our parents’ iron-fisted scheduling.

Meanwhile, Kian was neck-deep in chaos of his own.

Apparently, he’d become a prime target of the Triad.

Earlier this year, he’d quietly slipped Enzo Marchetti confirmation of Nicki Popova and her psychopathic husband’s involvement in a sprawling organ trafficking ring. It was the kind of truth that didn’t just expose monsters, it disrupted empires.

Now, the new head of the Triad was eager to make an example of him.

Not with bullets, but with something even more insidious: sabotage.

His goal was to stir tension between Kian and the alliances he’d spent years carefully building.

And if Anya had been killed in Albania, it would have caused major conflict between the Santos and Cortes families.

And while he played political chess with a knife at his back, and Jet was MIA with Anya, I was supposed to be picking flower arrangements.

“I’m home,” I called, shutting the door to the penthouse behind me.

“In the living room,” Gabriel replied, and it was only then that I heard voices coming through the speakerphone. “I’m just finishing up a call and then I’m all yours.”

I chuckled at the irony of life. If someone had told me two months ago that I’d be walking into Gabriel Santos’s penthouse with a wedding dress carefully concealed while he was conducting business, I would have probably killed them.

Of course, it wouldn’t always be this way.

Once the wedding was behind us, I’d get into my father’s business and start helping Kian, and Gabriel would continue running the Santos Cartel. He and his brother agreed that Gabriel wouldn’t take over operations fully until his sight returned.

And if it didn’t… Well, we’d cross that bridge when we got there.

I tiptoed into our bedroom and put the wedding dress in the back of my closet. It wasn’t anything elaborate, just simple, and more me than any dress my mom or Liana had delivered. Those were currently crowding a different spot in my closet and would be donated first thing tomorrow with Luis’s help.

The call must have ended, because the apartment went silent.

I changed out of my clothes quickly, and instead of putting on my usual—shorts and a T-shirt—I opted for one of Gabriel’s shirts. I loved how his scent wrapped around me like a blanket.

I made my way out of the room and down the hallway. The whole penthouse had an open concept, which made it easy to spot my man seated on the midnight-gray leather sectional in the center of the room.

One arm was draped casually over the backrest, the other resting near his cane. His sleeves were rolled up to the forearm, shirt unbuttoned just enough to be considered a threat to my composure.

For days, I’d been watching him—adjusting, recalibrating, navigating his new reality like a man unwilling to bow to it. And now, here he was. Strong. Steady. And mine.

He tilted his head slightly toward me.

His eyes—still blue and searching, though no longer seeing—were pointed just off-center from where I stood near the kitchen island.

I crossed the room barefoot, the floors cool beneath my feet. The smooth polished stone reflected the low light and made the space feel larger than it already was. I dropped onto the couch beside him, careful not to jostle the cane as I curled into him on the cushion.

“How was shopping, preciosa ?” he asked, his voice all warm honey and dangerous charm, like he hadn’t just sent me into the ninth circle of bridal hell.

“Boring,” I muttered. “I wish we could have just gone to the courthouse and gotten married. This shebang is not me.”

He chuckled. “Shebang?”

“Yes. She. Bang.” I gestured vaguely at the universe. “The glitter, the tulle, the thirty-seven opinions about which shade of white looks ‘less corpse-like’ on me, and Liana treating me like I’m about to be a star in the Corpse’s Bride .”

He bit back a laugh. “A bride with a hint of spice and rage.”

I sighed. “Don’t make me put a dent in your pristine penthouse.”

He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t notice it anyhow.” My chest tightened, although there was no bite to his words. Just facts. “Just make sure your wedding dress has that mermaid-tail thing, otherwise Luis will be so disappointed.”

“Trumpet silhouette.” I shoved my shoulder lightly against his. “And Luis can put that shit on his own woman.”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

I sighed into his shoulder. “I just want to be your wife. I don’t need fifteen floral arrangements and a live harpist to prove it.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Then let’s compromise. We’ll have the harpist, but she only plays soundtracks from Stephen King movies.”

I snorted. “Deal.”

He smiled, although he stared out into the empty space. “Want to watch a movie?”

“No.”

“I thought you loved movies and popcorn,” he remarked.

I didn’t want to stare at the screen while he couldn’t see it.

“I just…” I trailed off, pressing my lips together, unsure how to relay that I was scared of peace.

I wasn’t afraid of his blindness or our enemies or the ticking clock of legacy. I was afraid of the quiet. Of having everything and not knowing what to do with it. I only knew how to survive chaos, but living in calm seemed to be a whole new ballgame.

Gabriel tugged me closer with gentle insistence until I tucked my legs beneath me and moved closer so he could wrap his arm around my waist. His body was warm, solid. Familiar in all the ways that mattered.

“You don’t have to hold your breath waiting for the next explosion. Sometimes, it’s okay to just be,” he said, his voice a low murmur against my hair.

I rested my head against his shoulder and exhaled. Let the weight press out of my ribs and into him. Let the quiet become something less oppressive. Just this once.

“We’re still getting married, right?” he asked casually, like he wasn’t talking about a life-altering decision. “Unless the mermaid-ruffle thing and Liana’s nagging changed your mind.”

I laughed into his shirt. “It strengthened my resolve, actually.”

“Excellent.” He sounded relieved.

“I’m never going to change my mind about you, Gabriel,” I assured him softly. “No matter what. I’m just terrified of normalcy, and this—us—is so normal.”

He smiled. “Welcome to my world, preciosa . You can thank Sailor’s upbringing for the normal.”

I chuckled.

“I feel like mine was anything but normal.” He nodded as if he understood, and I really thought he did. “My parents didn’t bother to raise me like a girly girl, recognizing it wouldn’t work for me. Maybe it was part of Mother Liana’s influence, or simply just who I am.”

“Probably a little bit of everything,” he said softly.

“Yeah, probably.”

“But you do know I wouldn’t have you any other way, right?”

Gosh, Gabriel knew how to say all the right things, and I loved him for it.

“Are you sure?” I whispered.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

I smiled happily.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time. It was gentle, soft around the edges.

Gabriel reached forward, his fingers brushing lightly across the surface of the low marble coffee table until they landed on a small, smooth object I hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s this?” I questioned when he held it out to me.

He smiled. “Open it and see.”

He held the velvet box with both hands. Like it was something sacred. Like I was. I reached for it and started unwrapping it, a gasp tearing from my lips.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain. So unlike his usually unshakable confidence.

I opened my mouth, but for a second, no words came out. My throat tightened and my heart thudded in that uneven way it always did around him.

“I know you’re not into anything flashy,” he continued, nervously rubbing his thumb on his thigh. “I was really specific—painfully specific—because I wanted it to feel like… you. Quiet but strong. Simple but impossible to overlook.” He smiled faintly. “One ring to bind us.”

That made me laugh, even as my eyes stung.

“I love it,” I breathed. My fingers trembled as I reached for the delicate band. It was elegant white gold, set with a gentle arc of tiny diamonds that caught the light without screaming for attention. “It’s perfect. Understated, stunning.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured, relief softening his features.

I held the ring up, admiring the way it glittered. A promise made solid. “This’ll be the only ring I ever wear. Forever.”

He grinned. “Guess that means I did okay, huh?”

“You did better than okay. You picked a ring I want to be buried with.”

His brow lifted. “Planning your funeral already? Damn, marriage is serious.”

I chuckled. “I’m just saying that from now on, you’re stuck with me. Blood, death, taxes, and this ring.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Well, since we’re exchanging gifts, I did pick up something for you while I was out today.”

I reached into my pocket and handed him the cold metal.

His brow arched. “You bought me a watch?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to lose your whole sexy-mob-boss aesthetic. It’s a vintage Braille Citizen Shine. You can feel the time instead of seeing it.”

He chuckled, running his fingers over the curved metal. “Describe it.”

“Very sleek. Silver face. Black leather band. Minimalist design. Also waterproof. You can open the outer layer and feel the handles. It’s sexy as hell, just like you.”

He turned the watch over in his hand, studying it with his fingertips. “You think I’m sexy?”

“You’re blind, not deaf, Gabriel,” I said playfully. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“Just needed confirmation.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper near my ear. “I love you, Amara.”

My breath caught. I turned to face him, suddenly very aware of the potent heat rising between us. It was the kind that was impossible to ignore. My heart fluttered with the deep ache of a woman who knew what it meant to almost lose everything.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

His hand found my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw, lingering like he was mapping every dip and curve.

“Even if my eyes permanently stay like this?”

“I didn’t fall in love with your eyes,” I said as I shifted, straddling him with slow purpose. My hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of the heartbeat I now knew like a rhythm under my skin.

“I fell in love with your heart,” I continued, eyes locked with his, “and your terrible yet suave charm that’s like a Bond villain trying to flirt his way out of any situation.”

He smirked, but it faltered when I leaned in closer, my words brushing against his mouth.

“I love the way you make me feel. Vulnerable, but also strong. I don’t feel like I have to hide any part of me from you. You’re the only man that loves both sides of me and doesn’t make me choose between soft and unbreakable.”

His hands gripped my waist reverently.

“I don’t just love you,” I whispered. “I recognize myself in you.”

He kissed me then with the kind of focus that made everything else vanish. It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t hurried. It was grounding, because we had nowhere to be.

Because the world had finally gone quiet in the right way.