Chapter 8 - The Price of Treason
Derek laughed—a high-pitched, unhinged sound that echoed through the luxurious bedroom. "You think you scare me, Ashford?! I’m a cop! I’ve put guys like you in high-security prisons for years! You step any closer and she dies!"
Gabriel didn't stop moving. He continued his slow walk toward them.
"You're not a cop anymore, Lawson," Gabriel said quietly. "You're a trespasser. A domestic abuser who lost his badge. And right now, there are no body cameras, no union reps, and no Captain Harrington to cover up your mess."
Derek’s eyes darted frantically around the room. He realized suddenly that Gabriel was entirely unbothered by the knife pointed at Harper’s neck. That supreme, absolute confidence struck a sharp nerve of panic deep inside Derek’s chest.
In a fit of wild desperation, Derek thrust Harper violently forward, throwing her weight toward Gabriel, and lunged forward with the hunting knife aimed directly at Gabriel’s chest.
Harper fell to the marble floor with a hard thud, her knees scraping against the stone.
Gabriel didn't even blink. As Derek lunged, Gabriel dodged gracefully to the side with blinding speed, grabbing Derek’s knife wrist with his left hand and shattering it instantly with a devastating, sickening CRACK.
Derek screamed in agony as the knife slipped from his limp fingers, clattering uselessly against the floor.
Before Derek could fall, Gabriel grabbed him by the throat with his right hand, lifting the heavy officer completely off his feet and slamming his body against the solid brick wall beside the window.
The impact rattled the glass frames. Derek gasped for air, his feet dangling six inches above the floor, his hands frantically clawing at Gabriel’s iron grip around his windpipe.
"You beat her for three years," Gabriel whispered, his voice dropping into a register so dark and lethal that even Harper, lying on the floor, felt a chill run through her bone marrow. "You broke her ribs. You cut her face. You made her feel like she was nothing."
Gabriel’s fingers tightened. Derek’s face turned a dark, suffocating purple, his eyes bulging as he fought for oxygen.
"Please..." Derek managed to choke out, his cocky bravado completely shattered. "Please... don't..."
"Mr. Ashford!" Harper called out from the floor, her voice trembling.
Gabriel didn't turn his head, but his grip remained locked on Derek’s throat. "Do you want him dead, Harper? Say the word, and I will snap his neck right now and drop his body into Boston Harbor before dawn."
Harper looked at Derek—the man who had tormented her life, who had made her fear every footstep outside her door, who had turned her home into a prison. He was clawing at Gabriel’s hand, crying, begging for his life like a coward.
She felt no desire for revenge. She only felt a sudden, profound sense of release.
"No," Harper said softly, standing up on shaky legs. "Don't kill him."
Gabriel glanced sideways at her, his brow furrowed slightly. "He will never stop hunting you if he lives."
"If you kill him, you become the monster he claimed you were," Harper said, her light green eyes meeting Gabriel’s dark gaze with unwavering strength. "Don't ruin your life for a piece of trash like him. Give him to the law he pretended to serve."
Gabriel stared at her for three long seconds. The lethal tension in his shoulder muscles slowly relaxed.
With a look of supreme disgust, Gabriel released his grip. Derek hit the floor like a sack of bricks, coughing violently, gasping for air as he clutched his shattered wrist against his chest.
Gabriel stepped over him, pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, and meticulously wiped his hands.
"Frank," Gabriel said calmly to the empty doorway.
Frank immediately stepped into the suite, holding a heavy suppressed pistol, followed by two other security guards.
"Take Mr. Lawson to the basement," Gabriel ordered flatly. "Call Federal Agent Miller at the FBI field office. Tell him we have a rogue police officer caught on security cameras committing home invasion, attempted murder, and kidnapping. Give him the full audio recordings of Lawson confessing to domestic violence."
"Got it, Boss," Frank said, grabbing Derek by his jacket collar and dragging him out of the room. Derek didn't fight back; he was sobbing hysterically as he was hauled away into the dark corridor.
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The suite fell silent once again. The heavy rain continued to drum against the high glass windows.
Harper stood in the center of the room, her knees shaking as the rush of adrenaline finally began to recede. She looked at Gabriel, who was standing by the desk, looking out into the stormy night.
