Chapter 2 - THE SHELTER OF A MONSTER
"What do you want from me?" Claire asked, her voice trembling, though whether from the freezing Chicago wind or the terrifying reputation of the man standing before her, she couldn't be sure.
Gabriel Moretti looked at her. His dark eyes, usually cold and unreadable to the men who feared him, softened just a fraction. He did not smile—a fake smile would have sent her running—but his expression held a quiet, unshakable gravity.
"Right now, Mrs. Dawson?" Gabriel replied, his voice a low, steady rumble that barely carried over the howling snowstorm. "I want you to get in the car before that child freezes. Everything else can wait until you are warm."
He hadn't called her Claire. He had called her Mrs. Dawson. He knew exactly who she was.
Panic flared in Claire's chest, hot and sharp, but Emma let out a fragile, high-pitched whimper against her collarbone. The baby was losing heat. The storm was worsening, the snow swirling into a blinding white vortex around the hospital entrance. Claire looked at the waiting black SUV, its engine purring, the heavily armored doors offering a sanctuary she desperately needed.
Pride was a luxury for the rich and the safe. Claire was neither.
She tightened her grip on Emma, pulled Gabriel’s heavy wool coat closer around them both, and nodded.
Gabriel immediately signaled his men. One guard seamlessly took Claire’s small, battered suitcase, while another held the rear door open. Gabriel did not hover or try to touch her. He stepped back, giving her the space she needed to climb into the heated, leather-scented interior of the vehicle.
The moment the heavy door chunked shut, the roar of the blizzard vanished, replaced by the soft hum of the climate control. Claire sank into the plush leather, her entire body shaking as the warmth finally began to penetrate her frozen skin.
Gabriel slid into the seat opposite her. He tapped the glass partition, and the SUV smoothly pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the whiteout.
For a long time, the only sound was Emma’s soft, even breathing.
Claire watched Gabriel cautiously. He was staring out the window at the passing city, giving her privacy. He was a striking man, imposing and broad-shouldered, wearing a bespoke suit that spoke of immense, old money. But there was a hardness to his jawline, a lethal stillness in his posture that reminded her of a coiled panther. This was the man who had supposedly dismantled rival organizations with ruthless efficiency. This was the man who owned half the freight lines in the Midwest.
"You know who I am," Claire said softly.
Gabriel turned his head. "I know your husband. Or, more accurately, I know his father's company. Dawson Urban Development."
"Ethan left me," Claire blurted out, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She didn't know why she was confessing this to a mafia boss, but the exhaustion was breaking her down. "He wanted a son to inherit his firm. I gave him a daughter. He handed me divorce papers ten minutes after she was born."
Gabriel’s expression did not change, but the temperature in the SUV seemed to drop a few degrees. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a second, Claire saw the monster the newspapers wrote about.
"A man who abandons his blood because of pride is not a man," Gabriel said quietly. "He is a liability."
Twenty minutes later, the SUV passed through massive wrought-iron gates, pulling up to a sprawling stone estate overlooking Lake Michigan. It was a fortress disguised as a mansion.
Inside, the efficiency of Gabriel’s household was staggering. Before Claire could even process the grand foyer with its sweeping staircase and crystal chandeliers, she was ushered into a private, ground-floor guest wing.
Dr. Levin, a discreet, gray-haired physician who clearly worked exclusively for the Moretti family, was already waiting.
Gabriel stepped back out into the hallway. "I will leave you to the doctor. My staff has prepared clothes for you and everything the baby might need. Rest."
Dr. Levin examined Emma first, declaring her perfectly healthy, just a little cold. Then he checked Claire. He gave her vitamins, a warm, nutrient-rich broth, and orders to sleep.
When Claire finally emerged into the adjoining bedroom, she stopped dead in her tracks.
The room was larger than the condo she had shared with Ethan. A massive four-poster bed was piled high with down comforters. But what made her burst into fresh tears was the corner of the room.
A state-of-the-art bassinet stood near a roaring fireplace. Beside it was a changing table stocked with hundreds of diapers, wipes, formula, and dozens of tiny, brand-new outfits.
She had arrived with nothing. Gabriel Moretti had given her everything, asking for nothing in return.
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Claire placed Emma into the bassinet, watching her daughter sleep safely in the warmth. For the first time in three days, the crushing weight of panic lifted from Claire's chest. She climbed into the massive bed, sinking into the mattress, and let the darkness take her.
Outside her door, at the end of the hall, two of Gabriel’s best men stood guard. No one, especially not Ethan Dawson, was going to touch them.
