Chapter 9 - The Anatomy of Healing
"Are you hurt?" Gabriel asked, his voice returning to its calm, measured cadence.
"No," Harper whispered. "I'm... I'm fine."
Gabriel turned to look at her. He walked over to where she was standing, stopped two feet away, and reached out. His fingers gently touched her cheek, right where Derek had pressed the cold edge of the knife moments earlier. His thumb brushed softly over her soft skin, checking for any cuts.
Harper didn't pull away this time. The touch of his warm hand felt impossibly comforting, a stark contrast to the violence she had endured for years.
"You were very brave," Gabriel said softly. "Most people would have begged me to kill him."
"I wanted him gone," Harper admitted, looking down at his dark tie. "But I didn't want his blood on my hands. Or yours."
Gabriel let out a soft, almost invisible smile—the first real smile Harper had ever seen on his stern, handsome face. It transformed his entire demeanor, softening the harsh angles of his jawline.
"You have a good heart, Harper," he murmured, his thumb lingering on her jawline for a moment longer before he withdrew his hand. "A rare thing in this city."
He walked over to his desk, picked up a pen, and pulled a folder from his drawer.
"Lawson will spend the next fifteen to twenty years in a Federal prison," Gabriel said, opening the folder. "Between the home invasion charges, the corruption evidence I provided to the FBI, and his illegal use of police databases, he will never see the light of day again. You and your brother are completely free."
Harper felt a tear slip down her cheek—not a tear of pain or terror, but of pure, overwhelming relief. The heavy, suffocating iron weight that had rested on her chest for three long years had finally been lifted.
"Thank you," she choked out, her voice filled with deep emotion. "Thank you, Gabriel."
"You don't need to thank me," Gabriel said, looking up at her. "You earned this. Now, sit down. Your hands are still shaking."
He poured a small glass of expensive amber brandy and handed it to her. Harper took the glass, sitting on the plush leather sofa. She took a small sip, feeling the liquid burn gently down her throat, warming her cold body.
"What happens now?" she asked softly. "My contract... Derek is gone. You don't need to protect me anymore."
Gabriel walked over and sat on the opposite leather chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her.
"The contract remains in place if you wish it to," Gabriel said calmly. "Your brother’s school tuition is paid for the next four years. The South Boston brownstone is yours for as long as you want to stay."
Harper looked at him, puzzled. "Why? I'm just a maid."
"You were a maid," Gabriel corrected smoothly. "Now, you are the chief medical officer of my household. And if you want to finish your nursing degree at BU, I will personally fund your tuition. You can attend morning classes and work here in the evenings."
May you like
Harper stared at him in complete shock. "You... you would do that for me?"
"I invest in valuable assets, Harper," Gabriel said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a quiet, undeniable warmth. "And you are the most valuable person in this house."
