Chapter 3 - The Night Chicago Came for HerAt 3:17 in the morning, the first bullet struck the penthouse glass.
Norah was awake.
She had fallen asleep at the kitchen island with her pharmacology notes beneath one cheek and a cold mug of coffee beside her hand. The sauce she had been making hours earlier was gone. Gabriel had eaten dinner at midnight, then disappeared into his office with Leo and the captains.
For almost three hours, the apartment had been unnaturally quiet.
Then came the sound.
Crack.
Norah opened her eyes.
For half a second, she thought she had dreamed it.
Then the second bullet hit.
The floor-to-ceiling window beside the dining area exploded inward.
“DOWN!”
Gabriel’s voice tore through the penthouse.
Norah barely had time to move.
A heavy body slammed into her, knocking her from the stool.
Gabriel covered her as glass rained across the marble floor.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Not one weapon.
Several.
The night became thunder.
Gabriel dragged Norah behind the kitchen island.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Check.”
“What?”
“Check yourself!”
His hands moved over her shoulders, arms, ribs.
Norah slapped them away.
“I said I’m fine.”
Another round punched through the remaining glass.
Gabriel pushed her flat.
Leo and two guards rushed from the hallway carrying rifles.
“Roof across the avenue!” Leo shouted. “Maybe two shooters.”
“Kill the lights.”
The penthouse went black.
Emergency lighting glowed faintly near the floor.
Gabriel pulled a handgun from beneath his shirt.
Norah stared at it.
She had seen guns before.
Growing up in the Narrows meant learning the difference between fireworks and gunshots before learning long division.
But this was different.
These bullets were for her.
Five hundred thousand dollars had transformed her existence into a prize.
“Service corridor,” Gabriel ordered.
Leo nodded.
“Norah, move.”
Gabriel grabbed her wrist.
She resisted.
“My books.”
He stared at her.
“My exam notes are on the counter.”
“You're worried about notes?”
“My exam is in eighteen days.”
A bullet struck the refrigerator.
Gabriel looked toward the ceiling as if asking God for patience.
Then he grabbed Norah’s textbook and shoved it under his arm.
“Happy?”
“Not particularly.”
They ran.
The service corridor behind the kitchen connected the penthouse to a freight elevator and a reinforced emergency stairwell.
Gabriel pushed Norah through first.
Leo followed.
Three guards remained behind.
“What about them?” Norah asked.
“They know their jobs.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means keep moving.”
They descended four floors.
On the forty-third floor, Gabriel stopped.
He pressed his thumb against a concealed biometric panel.
A section of wall opened.
Norah stared.
Behind it was a narrow reinforced room containing monitors, weapons, medical supplies, water, and enough canned food to survive a siege.
“You have a panic room?”
“I have several.”
“That is the least surprising thing I’ve learned about you.”
Leo almost smiled.
Gabriel didn't.
He pushed Norah inside.
“You stay here.”
“And you?”
“I’m ending this.”
“No.”
Gabriel turned.
Norah folded her arms.
“You promised the violence stayed outside my kitchen.”
“They shot through your kitchen.”
“Exactly. Your promise is already doing badly.”
“This isn't funny.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“That’s why you’re not walking out there half-crazy and getting yourself killed.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“Norah—”
“You haven’t eaten since midnight.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“And your hands are shaking.”
Gabriel looked down.
She was right.
Not from hunger.
Adrenaline.
Fear.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
Norah saw the realization in his face.
So did Leo.
Leo suddenly became fascinated with one of the security monitors.
Norah stepped closer.
“Sit.”
Gabriel actually laughed.
A short, humorless sound.
“People don't tell me to sit.”
“I do.”
“Because you have no survival instinct.”
“Probably.”
She opened a cabinet.
Emergency food.
Protein bars.
Crackers.
Peanut butter.
Everything factory sealed.
She found a packet of crackers and handed it to him.
Gabriel looked at it.
Then at her.
“Eat.”
“Norah—”
“Eat the damn cracker, Gabriel.”
Leo coughed into his fist.
Gabriel opened the package.
He ate.
Only then did Norah realize what she had done.
A month earlier, he could barely swallow food prepared by anyone except her.
Now he had opened a sealed package himself.
Progress.
Small.
But real.
The monitors showed armed men moving through neighboring buildings.
Gabriel watched them.
“Chicago didn't send professionals.”
Leo frowned.
“How can you tell?”
“They’re shooting from exposed positions. Professionals would've waited until Norah left the building.”
Norah looked at him.
“That was supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Gabriel studied the screen.
“They want us frightened.”
“They succeeded,” Norah said.
He looked at her.
She refused to pretend otherwise.
Her heart was hammering.
Her palms were wet.
Every primitive part of her brain screamed to run.
But there was nowhere to run.
That realization changed something.
Fear became anger.
“Who is running Chicago?” she asked.
Gabriel's face hardened.
“Vincent Moretti.”
“What does he want?”
“My docks. My routes. Half the unions. And now he wants to prove I have a weakness.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt more than she expected.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“But you aren't my weakness.”
Norah raised an eyebrow.
“You threw yourself on top of me while someone shot through bullet-resistant glass.”
“That was tactical.”
“You grabbed my pharmacology textbook while escaping an assassination attempt.”
“That was stupidity.”
“Your stupidity.”
For the first time that night, his expression softened.
Then an alarm sounded.
Leo turned toward the monitor.
“Movement in the service elevator.”
Gabriel instantly changed.
The man Norah knew disappeared.
The king returned.
“Positions.”
Leo chambered a round.
Gabriel pushed Norah behind the reinforced wall.
“No matter what happens, don't come out.”
The elevator indicator moved.
Someone was coming up.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
The doors opened.
Gunfire erupted.
Norah covered her ears.
The sound inside the corridor was unbearable.
Men shouted.
Something heavy hit the floor.
Then silence.
Norah waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Twenty.
“Gabriel?”
Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
“Gabriel!”
She stepped out.
Leo was standing.
One guard was wounded.
Two attackers lay near the elevator.
And Gabriel—
Gabriel was sitting against the wall.
Blood covered his shirt.
Norah stopped breathing.
“Gabriel.”
He looked down.
A bullet had entered beneath his ribs.
“It's nothing.”
“You've been shot.”
“I noticed.”
Norah dropped beside him.
Training replaced panic.
She ripped open his shirt.
Entry wound.
Lower right abdomen.
No obvious exit.
“Leo, medical kit.”
Gabriel caught her wrist.
“Norah.”
“Don't.”
“Listen.”
“Don't you dare give me some dramatic last words.”
Despite the pain, he smiled.
“I wasn't going to.”
“Good.”
She pressed gauze against the wound.
Gabriel grunted.
“You said you heal people.”
“I’m not a nurse yet.”
“You're close enough.”
“No. I'm not.”
Her hands trembled.
Gabriel noticed.
He covered one with his bloody hand.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Tell me about bone repair.”
“What?”
“You told me once.”
Another alarm sounded somewhere.
Leo was calling the private physician.
Gabriel kept his eyes on Norah.
“Tell me.”
Norah swallowed.
“A hematoma forms first.”
“Then?”
“A soft callus.”
“Then?”
“Bone remodeling.”
“And the break?”
“It heals.”
“Stronger?”
“Sometimes.”
Gabriel breathed through the pain.
“Then fix me.”
Norah pressed harder against the wound.
“You arrogant bastard.”
“That's not medical terminology.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then she cried.
Only one tear.
Gabriel saw it.
His expression changed.
“Don't.”
“Shut up.”
“Norah.”
“Shut up and stay awake.”
The private doctor arrived seven minutes later.
The bullet had missed Gabriel’s liver by less than an inch.
It had lodged in muscle.
Painful.
Bloody.
But survivable.
The doctor removed it on a steel table in the fortified medical room.
Norah remained outside.
Her clothes were covered in Gabriel’s blood.
At dawn, Leo found her sitting on the floor.
“He's awake.”
Norah stood immediately.
Gabriel lay beneath white sheets, pale but conscious.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“So do you.”
She approached.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel reached for her hand.
Norah let him take it.
“You saved me.”
“I held gauze.”
“You stayed.”
“Apparently I'm bad at following evacuation orders.”
His thumb moved over her knuckles.
“Chicago knows that now.”
Norah understood.
The war had changed.
Vincent Moretti had attacked Gabriel's home.
He had tried to kill Norah.
And Gabriel had bled protecting her.
She should have wanted to escape more than ever.
Instead she looked at the wounded man before her and felt something terrifyingly different.
Not obligation.
Not gratitude.
Something warmer.
Something dangerous.
Something she had been refusing to name.
Gabriel watched her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Norah pulled her hand away.
“You need antibiotics.”
“I need revenge.”
“You need antibiotics first.”
May you like
Gabriel smiled.
For once, he obeyed.
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