Chapter 9 - The Woman Beside the ThroneThe first shot hit a marble column.
Gabriel fired back.
Not at Rourke.
At the chandelier chain above his officers.
Metal snapped.
Glass crashed.
Men scattered.
Gabriel grabbed Norah.
“Move.”
Daniel led them through a side door near the sacristy.
They entered a narrow corridor.
Behind them, Rourke shouted.
“Seal the exits!”
Daniel knew the church.
He pushed open another door.
Stairs descended.
“Basement.”
They ran.
Norah’s lungs burned.
Her ribs had mostly healed.
Mostly was not completely.
Gabriel stayed behind her.
Gun ready.
At the bottom, Daniel moved through storage rooms.
Old chairs.
Holiday decorations.
Boxes of hymnals.
He opened a maintenance door.
An alley waited beyond.
A black sedan pulled across the exit.
Norah stopped.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
Then the driver window lowered.
Frankie.
“You people are terrible at following instructions.”
Gabriel opened the rear door.
“Drive.”
They piled inside.
Frankie accelerated.
Two police vehicles turned into the street behind them.
“Official units?”
Frankie asked.
“Rourke’s men.”
Gabriel replied.
“Wonderful.”
Frankie drove through a red light.
Norah opened her laptop.
Gabriel stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Ending Rourke.”
“Now?”
“He brought armed officers into a church to steal evidence.”
“Yes.”
“That’s useful.”
Norah connected through a mobile hotspot.
Daniel looked over.
“What evidence do you have?”
“Seventeen years of payments.”
“That proves corruption.”
Norah said.
“But it doesn’t prove what happened today.”
Frankie smiled.
“It might.”
He tapped the dashboard.
“Body cam.”
Everyone looked at him.
Frankie shrugged.
“I installed cameras after the garment attack.”
“Boss gets shot at too often.”
Gabriel frowned.
“You installed a camera on me?”
“Insurance.”
“Remove it.”
“Later.”
Norah almost laughed.
“Did it record inside the church?”
Frankie nodded.
“Audio too.”
“Send it.”
Five minutes later, Norah had the footage.
Rourke entering.
Demanding the drive.
Offering “perhaps” to let them live.
His officers raising weapons without legal justification.
Everything.
Norah created three encrypted packages.
One went to the FBI public-corruption office.
One to the state attorney general.
One to a journalist who had spent years investigating police corruption.
Gabriel watched.
“You trust the journalist?”
“No.”
“That’s why I sent it to three places.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“Redundancy.”
Norah did not look at him.
“You taught me something useful.”
The police vehicles continued behind them.
Then one slowed.
The second followed.
Frankie checked the mirror.
“They’re backing off.”
Norah’s phone buzzed.
Breaking-news notification.
Video of Deputy Commissioner Rourke inside Saint Michael’s had already reached social media.
Faster than expected.
The journalist moved quickly.
Rourke’s leverage vanished in real time.
Police headquarters announced an internal investigation within an hour.
Federal agents arrived at his office before noon.
By evening, Michael Rourke was suspended.
Sokolov lost one of his highest-ranking protections.
But Norah knew victory would provoke retaliation.
She was right.
At 8:16 p.m., Viktor Sokolov called.
Gabriel answered on speaker.
“You embarrassed me.”
Sokolov said.
Norah sat beside him in a safe apartment in Queens.
Daniel stood near the window.
Frankie guarded the hallway.
Gabriel poured scotch.
“You embarrassed yourself.”
“Rourke was careless.”
“Yes.”
“And now he is useless.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Eleanor.”
Norah leaned forward.
“My name is Norah.”
“So you keep saying.”
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“No.”
“You sound like your father.”
“Hopefully with better judgment.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Sokolov did not.
“I can destroy Gabriel.”
Norah looked at Gabriel.
He drank his scotch.
Unconcerned.
“You’ve been trying.”
She said.
“I have barely begun.”
“Then begin.”
Gabriel turned toward her.
Even he looked surprised.
Norah continued.
“You want me frightened.”
“I spent seventeen years frightened.”
“It became boring.”
Silence.
Sokolov’s voice cooled.
“Be careful.”
“No.”
Norah said.
“You be careful.”
She ended the call.
Gabriel stared.
Daniel stared.
Frankie stared.
“What?”
Norah asked.
Gabriel set down his glass.
“That was attractive.”
Daniel grimaced.
“I’m standing here.”
Gabriel ignored him.
The next morning, Sokolov began attacking Rossi businesses.
Not with guns.
With regulators.
Health inspections.
Fire-code closures.
Tax audits.
Union complaints.
Shipping delays.
He had adapted.
Norah respected that.
It meant he understood Gabriel’s organization could not be destroyed by street violence alone.
So she responded in the same language.
Every official who initiated a suspicious action was checked against Daniel’s ledger.
Three appeared.
A port inspector.
A labor attorney.
A customs supervisor.
Norah contacted them separately.
Not directly.
Each received one page from Sokolov’s records.
Their own page.
Nothing else.
Attached was one message.
HE KEPT RECEIPTS.
Within six hours, the port inspector took emergency leave.
The labor attorney hired a criminal-defense lawyer.
The customs supervisor contacted federal authorities.
One support after another disappeared.
Sokolov’s system began shaking.
Gabriel watched Norah work.
She no longer looked like the woman from the precinct.
Her hand had healed enough that the brace was gone.
She wore black trousers.
White shirt.
Hair tied back.
No glasses today.
She sat at a cheap folding table inside the safe apartment and dismantled a transnational criminal network with a laptop.
Gabriel had never wanted anyone more.
That fact frightened him more than bullets ever had.
Not because desire made him weak.
Because Norah had become necessary.
He had never allowed anyone to become necessary.
His father taught him that lesson by dying.
His life reinforced it.
Men betrayed.
Women left.
Partners became liabilities.
Family became leverage.
Control required distance.
Then Norah entered his life three years earlier carrying a coffee and a calendar.
He had not noticed the invasion.
Now she occupied everything.
His office.
His penthouse.
His decisions.
His thoughts.
His future.
Gabriel walked toward her.
“Take a break.”
“No.”
“You’ve been working nine hours.”
“Seven.”
“Nine.”
“I worked while you slept.”
“That proves my point.”
Norah looked up.
“What?”
Gabriel held out his hand.
She stared at it.
Then took it.
He led her toward the small balcony.
Cold air hit them.
The city stretched beyond the rooftops.
Nothing like the penthouse view.
No height.
No fortress.
Just ordinary apartment buildings.
Laundry on fire escapes.
Traffic.
Someone arguing on the sidewalk.
Gabriel leaned against the railing.
Norah stood beside him.
“What happens after Sokolov?”
He asked.
She frowned.
“We rebuild.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“What happens to us?”
Norah became still.
He continued before he lost the nerve.
“You aren’t my secretary.”
“I know.”
“You aren’t merely my strategist.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what word comes next.”
Norah looked at him.
For once, Gabriel Rossi appeared uncertain.
That was rarer than fear.
“You could try boyfriend.”
She said.
His expression turned offended.
“I’m forty years old.”
“Partner?”
“Business ambiguity.”
“Lover?”
“Sounds temporary.”
Norah smiled.
“What do you want?”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“You.”
Simple.
No poetry.
No performance.
Norah’s smile disappeared.
He touched her face.
“Not because you’re useful.”
“Not because you saved my operation.”
“Not because you can read a ledger.”
“You.”
Norah’s throat tightened.
“You’re not very good at this.”
“I’ve never done it.”
“What?”
“This.”
Gabriel looked irritated by the confession.
“Whatever this is.”
Norah touched his chest.
“I’m scared too.”
He looked down.
“You don’t look scared.”
“Neither do you.”
“That’s because I’m emotionally unhealthy.”
Norah laughed.
Gabriel smiled.
Then kissed her.
No emergency.
No gunfire.
No approaching meeting.
No adrenaline.
Just a kiss.
Slow.
Warm.
Deliberate.
When they separated, Gabriel rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you.”
Norah stopped breathing.
Gabriel’s expression immediately became annoyed.
“Say something.”
“You chose a balcony in Queens?”
“What’s wrong with Queens?”
“For this?”
“I wasn’t aware there were venue requirements.”
Norah laughed again.
Then kissed him.
“I love you too.”
The words felt terrifying.
More terrifying than Sokolov.
Because fear of death was simple.
Love created things worth losing.
Inside the apartment, Daniel watched through the glass.
He looked away when Norah noticed.
For the first time, she wondered whether her father understood exactly why he had stayed away.
Not because he lacked love.
Because love had frightened him into making the worst decision of both their lives.
Norah would not repeat it.
She would not protect Gabriel by leaving.
She would protect him by staying.
Frankie opened the balcony door.
“I hate ruining whatever emotionally significant thing is happening.”
Gabriel turned.
“What?”
“We found Sokolov.”
Everything changed.
“Where?”
“Manhattan.”
Norah frowned.
“He’s here?”
Frankie nodded.
“Private hotel floor.”
“Russian diplomatic security around the building.”
“Officially, he’s attending an international energy conference.”
Gabriel smiled.
Cold.
Finally.
A physical target.
Norah saw the thought.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“You don’t even know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking about shooting him.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Norah.”
“If you kill Viktor, every file in the ledger becomes radioactive.”
“His network scatters.”
“His lieutenants fight over succession.”
“People die.”
“Evidence disappears.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“So what?”
“We make him surrender himself.”
Frankie laughed.
Then realized Norah was serious.
“You want Viktor Sokolov to walk into law enforcement voluntarily?”
“Yes.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“That’s impossible.”
Norah looked at her father.
“No.”
“It’s accounting.”
She opened the laptop again.
“Sokolov’s power depends on one assumption.”
“What?”
Gabriel asked.
“That his secrets are safer with him than against him.”
May you like
Norah smiled faintly.
“We’re going to reverse the equation.”
