Chapter 10 - The Only Contract That Matters
The battle for the harbor house was brutal, swift, and decisive.
Dante Moretti had expected to find a soft target—a mob boss distracted by a woman in an isolated coastal house. Instead, he had walked into a fortress designed by a man who had survived thirty-two years of Boston underworld warfare.
Gideon moved through his home like a phantom. He knew every dark corner, every sightline, every angle. Within four minutes, his tactical security team, combined with his own lethal precision, had neutralized fourteen of Dante’s mercenaries in the grand entry hall and dining room.
The heavy gunfire outside died down as Mateo’s team secured the driveway, burning out the remaining trucks with precise heavy-caliber fire.
Inside the house, silence descended once again, broken only by the wail of the security siren and the crackle of fire in the living room.
Dante Moretti, wounded in the shoulder and bleeding heavily, stumbled backward down the hallway toward the study, his hand holding a smoking revolver. He was desperate, looking for a hostage—looking for the woman who had caused his downfall.
He kicked open the study door.
“Get up, girl!” Dante screamed, raising his revolver as he scanned the dark room. “Get out here or I’ll—”
A cold, sharp metal barrel pressed directly into the side of Dante’s neck from the shadows beside the doorframe.
Gideon stood there, drenched in sweat and gun smoke, his eyes empty of all humanity.
“You picked the wrong house, Dante,” Gideon whispered.
Before Dante could pull his trigger, Gideon swept his arm, disarming the older man with brutal efficiency, knocking the revolver to the floor, and driving a knee straight into Dante’s ribs. The old boss collapsed onto the hardwood floor, gasping for air, clutching his shattered chest.
Gideon stepped over him, raising his pistol toward Dante’s forehead.
“Gideon!”
Ruby’s voice called out from behind the mahogany desk. She stepped into the light, holding her weapon down at her side, her face pale but her eyes remarkably calm.
Gideon froze, his finger on the trigger. He looked at her, then down at the ruined, bleeding man at his feet.
“He tried to kill you,” Gideon said, his voice flat, struggling against the dark bloodlust that had ruled his life for decades. “He threatened my home.”
Ruby walked across the room, stepping past the fallen mobster, and placed her soft hand directly over Gideon’s gun hand, gently pressing the weapon down.
“He’s finished, Gideon,” she whispered, looking up at him with profound love and gentleness. “Don't give him your soul. You don't need to be the monster they built anymore. The police and Mateo can handle the rest.”
Gideon looked into her warm brown eyes. The red fog of violence in his brain slowly cleared, replaced by the deep, tranquil light of her presence. He took a slow breath, feeling his heartbeat stabilize.
He slowly engaged the safety on his weapon and tucked it back into his belt.
“Mateo,” Gideon called out quietly into the hallway.
Mateo stepped into the room with four armed guards. “Sir?”
“Take Mr. Moretti away,” Gideon ordered, turning his back on his rival forever. “Ensure he lives to spend the rest of his life in a maximum-security federal facility.”
“Yes, boss,” Mateo replied, dragging the broken former Don out of the room.
Ten minutes later, the sirens of arriving federal law enforcement vehicles wailed in the distance, responding to the breach on private coastal property.
Gideon and Ruby stood together on the high balcony overlooking the ocean. The afternoon sky was clearing, blue light breaking through the fading smoke.
Gideon reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a small, sleek velvet box he had carried with him since his trip to the North End two days ago.
He turned to Ruby, popping the box open.
Inside sat a new ring. It was not the massive, three-carat cold diamond selected by his assistant to show off wealth. It was a simple, exquisite platinum band, embedded with a brilliant green emerald that matched the deep color of the Atlantic pine forests where they had walked together.
“No contracts,” Gideon said softly, taking her hand in his. “No property clauses. No three-year timelines. Just a man who was completely lost until a brave woman walked into his boardroom and refused to bow.”
He looked down into her eyes, his hands trembling slightly—a man who faced armies without flinching, trembling before the woman he loved.
“Will you marry me, Ruby Gallagher? For real this time?”
Ruby looked at the beautiful ring, then up into the face of the man who had burned his empire to follow her into a storm.
She didn't hesitate.
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“Yes,” she whispered, letting him slide the emerald ring onto her left ring finger. “Yes, Gideon.”
He pulled her into his arms, lifting her high against the clear blue sky, his laughter ringing out across the Atlantic ocean—a warm, beautiful sound that proved, once and for all, that the most precious things in life could never be owned, only loved.
