Chapter 4 - The Aftermath in the Rain
By 4:00 a.m., the St. Regis Hotel had been cleared of bodies, police had been kept away through careful political bribes, and the crisis that nearly tore New York apart was officially over.
A quiet rain fell over the private terrace of Gabriel’s penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park.
Clara stood near the glass balustrade, holding a warm cup of chamomille tea. She wore an oversized silk robe that belonged to Gabriel, her dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders. The adrenaline of the night had finally faded, leaving behind a deep, heavy exhaustion.
Soft footsteps sounded on the stone tiles behind her.
Gabriel walked out onto the terrace wearing black trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt. He carried a small black velvet box in his hand.
He didn't speak immediately. He walked up behind her, wrapping his massive arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Clara leaned her head back against his shoulder, letting out a long, contented sigh.
"You should be sleeping," Gabriel murmured into her hair.
"My brain won't shut off," Clara admitted softly. "I keep thinking about how close Dominic came to pulling that trigger."
"He will never see the sun again, Clara," Gabriel said, his tone turning dark for a brief second before softening again. "I promise you."
Silence settled over them, broken only by the gentle patter of rain against the glass roof above.
"Did you mean what you said in the ballroom?" Clara asked quietly, her fingers tracing the edge of her tea cup. "About terminating the Marino engagement?"
Gabriel turned her around in his arms so she was forced to look into his eyes.
"Isabella Marino signed the mutual release papers an hour ago," Gabriel said gently. "She never wanted to marry me anyway, Clara. She was in love with a civilian doctor in Boston. Her father forced her into the arrangement just as my capos forced me."
Clara stared at him, her breath hitching. "You... you knew that?"
"I knew," Gabriel admitted. "I was using the merger to buy peace for my family. But when I walked into my office on Friday morning and saw your resignation letter sitting on my desk... I realized that an empire built on peace without you in it is just a very expensive prison."
Gabriel reached into his pocket and opened the small velvet box.
Inside rested a magnificent vintage engagement ring—a flawless three-carat emerald-cut diamond set in platinum, surrounded by smaller, glittering sapphire baguettes.
Clara gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Gabriel..."
"This was my mother's ring," Gabriel said softly, taking the delicate ring from the box. "My father gave it to her the day he left the streets to build our legitimate business. I swore I would only give it to a woman who possessed the courage to stand beside me in the fire."
He knelt down on one knee on the rain-slick terrace, looking up into her tear-filled eyes.
"Clara Bennett," Gabriel said, his voice trembling with an emotion he had hidden for four long years. "You have managed my schedule, my business, and my life. Now I am asking you to manage my heart. Will you marry me?"
Tears spilled over Clara’s eyelashes, shining like diamonds in the dim city lights. She sank to her knees on the stone tiles in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
May you like
"Yes," Clara sobbed happily against his neck. "Yes, you absolute idiot. Yes."
Gabriel laughed—a rich, joyful sound that echoed across the quiet terrace—and slid the platinum ring onto her left ring finger. He pulled her into his lap, kissing her lips with a tender, overwhelming passion that erased every doubt and fear she had carried for four long years.
