Page 21

21: Gabe

Years. I’ve lived in the dark for years, convinced the light wasn’t meant for me anymore. That I’d accepted my role, accepted that some people aren’t meant to feel warmth again. But then Diablo said, ‘ Guard my daughter,’ and in walked a 5’5” ball of attitude with a fire so bright, I had to shield my damn eyes.

Tori was nothing like I expected her to be. She had sharp edges but a soft heart, a walking contradiction that made no damn sense and yet—somehow—fit perfectly. She had no reason to, but she stuck up for me. Called off her wolves—Blaze, Ryder, and Thorne—even though she wasn’t sure if I was a threat. She teased me, taunted me, made me laugh when I’d long forgotten how… even if most of the laughter was internal. She cracked something open inside me.

She reminded me what warmth felt like.

The military changed me. As it does everyone. But coming back? That was worse. I had siblings to take care of, and I knew damn well I wasn’t the kind of man who should be raising kids with the amount of baggage I was hauling. So I left them with someone better. Someone not like me. And I thought that meant I was done feeling, that I’d buried whatever softness was left.

Then she walked in, and I don’t plan to let go of that light again .

Tori isn’t mine. She never was. And after today, I’m almost sure I won’t even be allowed near her. She’s taking down her father, and I’ll be right beside her, making sure it happens. I’ll be whatever she needs—her right-hand man, her stepping stone, her weapon. If she needs to walk over me to get to her goal, I’ll lay myself flat on the floor.

I watch her now, seated at the table across from her father, not an inch of fear in her. She doesn’t fidget. Doesn’t blink. Her shoulders square up, her chin high—she looks like she already owns the damn room.

Diablo doesn’t see it. He sees his daughter , the one he thinks he can still mold into the perfect heir. He has no clue he’s already lost.

The door opens, and Juan walks in. His usual confidence is toned down, just a fraction, but I catch it. He knows what’s about to happen. We both do. Our eyes meet, and he tilts his head subtly—a question, a hesitation.

I give a slow nod. We’re good. For now.

The conversation swirls around us, sharp words laced with polite edges, business disguised as civility. Diablo thinks he’s maneuvering the board, thinks he’s still holding the reins. Cassandra sits off to the side, swirling her drink like she’s a cat holding a mouse, completely blind to the knife at her back.

Tori shifts—just a flick of her fingers, so subtle. But I see it. I always do.

That's my cue.

I lean toward Juan, voice low. "Let’s see who loses their cool first."

He exhales through his nose, almost amused, then nods.

Let's get this show on the road.

The meeting starts slow, the way all power plays do. Diablo speaks first, voice smooth and even, like he hasn’t spent years shaping his empire through blood and betrayal. I keep my expression blank, my posture relaxed, but my mind is tracking every detail. Every flicker of movement, every stray glance exchanged between the people at this table .

Juan settles into his seat. He knows the pieces are moving. Knows that this ship is about to go down, and if he isn't careful, he might go down with it.

Tori, though—Tori looks completely at ease. Like she’s playing a game she’s already won. She doesn’t rush to fill the silence, doesn’t shift under her father’s scrutiny.

“You’ve been adjusting well,” he says, watching her like she’s an unpredictable animal. “I knew you had it in you.”

Tori cocks her head, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “You knew?” She leans forward, resting her arms on the table. “Funny. I didn't really get that notion when you asked Mia, Lila, and Eve to work for you.”

The air between them tightens, like a rope being pulled at both ends. Diablo doesn’t react right away, and that’s how I know she’s rattled him. He expected her to resist, but he didn’t expect her to be so damn confident while doing it.

Juan shifts beside me, just enough that I notice, his fingers tapping out a slow rhythm on the table. He’s waiting for the right moment to interject.

I don’t move, don’t speak. This part isn’t mine to play. I’m just watching, listening, like I always do. And I know the second Diablo starts talking again, the ground beneath him is going to crack.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t distracted,” he finally says, voice quieter now, like he’s trying to remind her. Trying to claim credit for the woman in front of him. “I wanted to give you the chance to see what your men are really like.”

Tori leans forward towards Diablo, eyes sharp and unyielding as she stares him down. “No. You tried to break us. We did fine in spite of it.”

Diablo exhales through his nose, a quiet laugh, but his fingers curl noticeably against the table. Frustration. He’s losing control of this conversation, and he hates it .

She leans back, crossing one leg over the other, her tone shifting into something more casual, almost mocking. “In fact, what's going on with Lila?”

Diablo’s fingers tense, just barely. “What about her?”

Tori shrugs. “I heard she got hurt, didn't she? Considering she's your employee, I’d think you’d be more concerned.”

His gaze sharpens, flicking between her and me, like he’s trying to decide whether this is bait. He settles for a half-truth. “She's no longer my problem. I have no use for failures.”

Tori hums, sounding as indifferent to his answer as she can, considering she's seething inside. “Good to know.”

That’s it. That’s all she gives him, but it’s enough. Diablo may be a bastard, but he’s not stupid. He knows it was her, that it was Blaze and Thorne who left Lila on his doorstep. They both know what they're really saying, but neither of them is willing to admit it to the other.

Juan clears his throat, shifting the energy. “Should we get to business?” he says, voice neutral.

Diablo takes the out, leaning back in his chair. “Of course.” He gestures toward Cassandra, who’s been quiet up until now. “We have pressing matters.”

Cassandra sits up straighter, eyes flicking briefly to Tori before she starts speaking. She’s good at this. At looking composed. But I see the tension in her shoulders. The way she avoids looking at Diablo for too long. She’s nervous.

She should be.

Tori doesn’t even glance in her direction. She keeps her focus on her father, watching him like she’s memorizing every breath he takes. Like she’s waiting for him to make his final mistake.

She's so powerful.

Cassandra clears her throat. "There have been...issues," she begins, her voice crisp but laced with hesitation. "Certain shipments have been delayed. Others have been intercepted. We need to discuss how to secure our supply lines."

Diablo barely spares her a glance, his focus still locked on Tori. "You should have handled that already. Why are you bringing it to me?"

Cassandra falters, barely, but I catch it. "Because whoever’s interfering knows our routes. Our operations. We must have a leak."

Juan leans forward, interest piqued. "And you think it’s someone inside?"

"I don’t think. I know," Cassandra replies, her tone more certain now, her eyes continuing to shift toward Tori. "This isn’t just random attacks. Someone is feeding them information."

Tori finally moves, reclining in her chair, her expression unreadable. "Then maybe you should be asking yourself who has the most to gain from those attacks."

Cassandra stiffens, but she doesn’t flinch. She’s smarter than that. “Funny. That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself.” Her gaze drifts over to me, then flickers to Juan before settling on Tori. “Someone’s been conveniently in the right places at the right times. The kind of access only someone with inside knowledge would have.”

I see what she’s doing. Twisting it. Trying to make the pieces fit a different puzzle.

Diablo finally turns to fully look at her, his patience wearing thin. "If there’s a traitor, you find them. You handle them. That’s why I keep you around."

For the first time, a flicker of panic crosses Cassandra’s face. "I will. But I need resources—"

"No excuses," Diablo cuts her off. "I want names. Soon. Or I’ll assume you’re protecting someone."

Tori angles her head to the right, studying Cassandra the way a cat watches a mouse right before the pounce. “You sound nervous, Cassandra. Almost like you’re trying to shift blame. ”

Cassandra lets out a tight laugh, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. "I just find it interesting that things started falling apart right around the time you and your men showed up."

Diablo’s eyes narrow. He’s listening now.

Tori smiles, slow and sharp. “Then you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for.”

The tension is suffocating. Cassandra nods, but I can tell she’s already running through every way out she has left.

Silence stretches across the room like a rubber band pulled too tight, waiting for someone to let go and snap it across the wrist. Cassandra keeps her face still, carefully blank, but I see the tension in her shoulders, the flicker of calculation in her eyes. She’s cornered, and she knows it.

Which means she’s about to do something really fucking stupid.

Diablo exhales slowly, fingers drumming against the armrest like he’s contemplating a firing squad.

That’s not an exaggeration. I’ve only seen him go this quiet right before wiping a man off the map.

"Don't imply, Cass," Diablo finally says, smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. "I don't care to hear your speculations. Find the leak. End it."

Cassandra nods, but there’s something tight in her expression, like she’s swallowing glass. She knows the margin for error just shrunk to nothing.

Tori, on the other hand, looks like she’s enjoying herself. Her fingers tap a slow rhythm against the table, not rushed, not nervous—just...waiting. I recognize the patience of someone who already knows how the game ends. She doesn’t even spare Cassandra a glance, just keeps her focus on Diablo like she’s waiting for him to step into a trap he hasn’t noticed yet.

I always thought power belonged to the biggest, baddest bastard in the room. The one who could break a man’s jaw with a glance, who commanded respect by sheer brutality. But watching Tori, I realize I had it wrong. Power is control. Owning the space without lifting a finger. Making every other person in the room adjust to your presence instead of the other way around.

And right now? This room belongs to her.

Juan leans back beside me, grinning like he’s watching a car wreck in slow motion. He hasn’t officially chosen a side yet, but he’s been playing this game long enough to know which horse to bet on. And it’s sure as hell not Cassandra.

Tori, ever the patient predator, shifts gears. "I have an idea."

Diablo raises a brow, intrigued despite himself. "Do you, now?"

"Cassandra should handle the next shipment personally," Tori suggests, leaning back like she’s just tossing out an idea instead of setting the stage for a masterstroke. "It would be the best way for her to find the leak. She can see at exactly what point it goes wrong and who she gave that information to."

Cassandra stiffens. Not enough for the untrained eye to catch, but I see it. Juan sees it too.

She knows we're up to something, but before she can figure it out, it'll be too late.

Diablo takes a moment, his breathing even, his fingers pressed together as he contemplates Tori's suggestion.

“Juan will join her in overseeing the shipment,” he finally responds, gesturing for Juan to join Cass and leave.

It's a simple order, but it derails our plans. Everything now rests on Tori and her ability to sway Juan to her side. If she can get him to back her one-hundred percent, then we have this in the bag.

Juan stands, scratching the floor with the back legs of his chair as he pushes away from the table in a huff. It's clear he's unhappy about the situation, but I'm not sure if it's toward Tori who suggested the plan or toward Cassandra who's causing the problem.

“We'll meet again tomorrow. I expect to see results. ”

With that, Cassandra follows Juan out, the two of them bickering as they exit the room. Their voices muffle when the door clicks shut behind them, and my attention snaps right back to the man I'm meant to be loyal to.

“Now, mija. We need to talk.” His voice drops a chilling octave, and my body tenses instinctively, ready to jump into action if needed. “I heard what happened between Mia and Thorne. It's to be expected, given the kind of relationship you have. You can't expect a man to be faithful when you're not giving him the same courtesy.”

Tori bristles under his comment, and part of me wants to snap at him for her. Neither of us do, though. It's obvious he's trying to get a rise out of her. With a long exhale, Tori’s fists loosen under the table.

“Funny you should say that.” She tilts her head ever so slightly. “We're actually going to get married.”

I have to restrain my laughter, biting my cheek to keep from snickering. Diablo's face is hard to describe, but it's as if someone stuck a cold rod up his ass and it got stuck to his skin on the way in.

“A second wedding, Victoria? Will that be two failed marriages then?”

This. This comment is what sets Tori off. Her chair falls to floor behind her, thrown down from the force as she stands so quickly she's almost a blur. Her hands grip the edge of the table so tight you can hear the wood creak in protest beneath her palms.

“Don't you dare throw that in my face. A marriage under duress to a kidnapper does not count and you know it.” Tori's eyes may be dark, but right now they're shining bright with the fire burning inside her. “Let me make one thing clear, Father: Thorne, Blaze, and Ryder aren't going anywhere. They're not unfaithful despite the many tricks you throw their way. They are mine. And if you keep trying to take them, you'll regret it. ”

Her shoulders rise and fall in uneven breaths as she struggles to calm herself. Yet there's a power radiating off her that could draw a moth to a flame.

“Now, if that's all, Gabe and I will be leaving. I need to go check on those guys you hate so much.” She pushes herself off the table, standing so straight she could pass for being an inch taller than she normally is. Her hand is on the doorknob when she turns to look at Diablo one last time. “Oh, and Mia, Eve, and Lila are officially fired. If I see any of them, you'll be short an employee.”

The threat is obvious, and the fury in her eyes tells me she means it. She'll kill them.

Diablo says nothing, his fingers twitching at his sides as he watches Tori. It's not often Diablo does not get the last word in, but it's clear he's too angry to think straight. Rather than say something stupid, he bites his tongue.

I hurry after Tori, closing the door on Diablo in a way that feels all too permanent. Sorry, sir, but I'm following your daughter now.

“Are you really marrying Thorne?” I whisper as I catch up, matching her stride toward the front door.

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don't fucking know.” She's huffing, her anger still high as her Converse hit the earth like they’re trying to tear it apart with each stomp.

“That clears that up.” I shake my head, opening the door to the bright afternoon sun.

She freezes, eyes wide and on me. “Did you—” she pauses, finger pointed at me. “Did you just crack a joke?”

I smirk at her as I take the first step out, leading us to the car.

“Oh my God. I'm rubbing off on you, aren't I?” She laughs, smiling so proudly as she follows closely behind.

“Sure. You can tell yourself that.” I pat her on the head before opening the door and gesturing her into her seat.

“Oh, I definitely will. ”

Her smile is wide, her anger faded, and my job done.

I know Tori can never be mine, not in the way I really want her, but she can still be the light in my darkness. I will keep her safe. I will keep her protected. I will keep her smiling, even if I can't have her.

I walk around the car and take my place behind the wheel, turning the ignition with a silent hum. “Okay, step one complete, Killer Queen. Now, on to step two. Ready?”

“As I'll ever be. But we need to work on your nicknames,” she laughs, shaking her head at me as I start to drive us to the estate.

“It's not any worse than KitKat.”

Her laughter rings in my ear, and I swear that with each giggle, she erases a little piece of the horrors I've lived through.

“I'll have you know I've grown fond of KitKat. But never tell Ryder that.”

“My lips are sealed.”

The rest of the ride is a mixture of her singing along to her crazy music or her taking a jab at me to get me to crack another joke or say another witty comment. I think she's made it her mission to hear me laugh hard, and I'm sure she'll soon succeed.

I'll love you from a distance, Tori. And if these three ever fuck up, I won't give them a chance to make it up to you.

I'll take you away.