Chapter 5 - The Uninvited Guest
Maya stared at Gabriel in utter shock. Her jaw was slightly open, her mind struggling to reconcile the violent, ruthless mob boss she had heard rumors about with the dark-suited man currently kneeling on her level, carefully opening a plastic container with two fingers.
Gabriel peeled back the cracked lid, revealing the squashed chocolate cake. Without hesitation, he used his thumb to scoop up a small smudge of pink frosting and brought it to his mouth.
Chloe clapped her hands together in delight. "Is it yummy?"
Gabriel swallowed, his dark eyes softening as he looked at the little girl. "It is the best thing I've eaten all year."
Maya slowly pushed herself up from the floor, her heart still hammering against her ribs, but the paralyzing fear was slowly giving way to profound confusion. "Sir... I am so sorry. We will leave right now. I’ll pack up my things and—"
"Did I tell you to leave?" Gabriel asked, standing up to his full height. The sharp, commanding tone returned to his voice, but it was no longer directed at her with malice; it was simply the voice of a man accustomed to taking complete control of his environment.
Maya stopped. "N-no, sir."
Gabriel walked over to his desk, placed the plastic container gently on top of a stack of multimillion-dollar property deeds, and tapped a silver intercom button.
"Victor," Gabriel said into the speaker.
A second later, Victor’s crisp voice answered. "Yes, Boss? Security status?"
"Send up a tray from the kitchen," Gabriel ordered. "Sandwiches, milk, fruit, and whatever baked goods the chef made this morning. And tell the gate crew that Sterling Residential Services will be staying on site for the rest of the afternoon."
There was a distinct pause on the line. Victor was clearly shocked by the command, but he knew better than to question his boss. "Understood, Boss. Ten minutes."
Gabriel released the button and turned back to Maya. He looked at her worn clothes, the deep shadows under her eyes, and the quiet, protective stance she maintained in front of her children.
"Sit down," Gabriel said, motioning toward the plush leather armchairs in front of the fireplace.
"Mr. Russo, please," Maya said, her hands trembling. "I can't take your food. I'm just here to clean."
"My name is Gabriel," he said quietly. "And right now, you are guests in my house. Your children are hungry. Sit down."
It wasn't a request. Maya looked at Leo, who was staring at the crackling fireplace with wide, curious eyes, and then at Chloe, who was already marching over to sit on the plush oriental rug near the hearth. Defeated, Maya walked over and sat on the edge of the large leather armchair, holding Leo close to her side.
For the next twenty minutes, an surreal scene unfolded inside the grand, gloomy study of Property 17.
A uniformed guard brought in a large silver tray stacked with fresh turkey sandwiches, sliced strawberries, cold glasses of milk, and warm chocolate chip cookies. Leo and Chloe ate with pure delight, their initial fear completely evaporating in the warmth of the fire and the delicious food.
Gabriel sat in his chair, quietly watching them. He didn't speak much, but his eyes never left the small family. For forty years, this house had been filled with business deals, threat assessments, and cold betrayals. He had forgotten what it sounded like to hear a child laugh inside these stone walls.
Maya took a slow sip of tea, watching Gabriel closely. "Why are you doing this?" she asked softly, ensuring the children were distracted by their cookies. "I know who you are, Mr. Russo. I heard the guards talking in the hallway."
Gabriel didn't blink. "You know what people say about me. That doesn't mean you know who I am."
"They say you're dangerous," Maya said plainly, her voice remarkably steady. "They say you control everything from Westchester to Manhattan."
"I control what keeps my people alive," Gabriel corrected coldly. "Nothing more, nothing less." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What's your name?"
"Maya. Maya Collins."
Gabriel stared at her for a long moment, his sharp mind connecting tiny details—her nervous glances toward the window, her frantic work ethic, her mention of needing rent money.
"You're running from something, Maya," Gabriel said, his voice low and direct. "And it isn't just an overdue electric bill."
Before Maya could answer, the double doors of the study burst open without a knock.
May you like
Victor Hale stood in the doorway, his face dark with tension, his hand resting directly on the grip of his sidearm.
"Boss," Victor said, his voice urgent. "We have a problem at the south gate. Jimmy Silva just pulled up with three vehicles. He's demanding to see you."
