Chapter 5 - THE THREAT AT THE DOOR
Three days passed in a blur of surreal peace.
Claire quickly learned that the Moretti estate was a self-contained world. There were gardens, a private library, a theater, and staff who treated her with a level of respect bordering on reverence.
Gabriel was rarely home during the day, busy running his vast empire, but he always returned for dinner. He would sit with Claire, asking about Emma, offering quiet advice, and revealing small glimpses of the man beneath the armor. He was brilliant, fiercely protective of his employees, and entirely unbothered by a crying baby.
In fact, the first time Emma threw a massive tantrum during dinner, Claire had panicked, apologizing profusely and trying to leave the room.
Gabriel had simply stood up, taken the screaming infant from her arms, and walked her around the grand dining room, speaking softly to her in Italian until she fell asleep on his broad shoulder. Claire had watched, mesmerized, as the terrifying crime boss rocked her daughter with a gentleness Ethan had never possessed.
But the peace could not last.
On the fourth morning, the massive iron gates of the estate buzzed.
Claire was in the conservatory, bouncing Emma on her knee, when the head of Gabriel’s security—a hulking man named Dante—stepped into the room.
"Mrs. Dawson," Dante said respectfully. "There is a situation at the front gate."
Claire’s blood ran cold. "Is it Ethan?"
"Yes, ma'am. He is demanding entry. He says he is here to collect his wife and child."
Claire clutched Emma tightly to her chest, her breathing quickening. "No. Please, don't let him in. I don't want to see him."
"You don't have to," a deep voice rumbled from the doorway.
Gabriel strode into the room, his face a mask of cold fury. He was wearing a dark suit, looking every inch the ruthless king of Chicago.
"Dante, open the gates," Gabriel ordered. "Let him drive up to the front steps. Do not let him inside the house."
"Yes, Boss." Dante bowed and hurried away.
Claire stood up, terrified. "Gabriel, please, he'll try to take her."
Gabriel crossed the room and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Look at me, Claire."
She forced her eyes up to his.
"No one is taking this child," Gabriel said, his voice an absolute vow. "I am going to handle your husband. Do you trust me?"
Claire looked at the man who had saved her life. She nodded.
Gabriel walked out the front doors of the mansion and stood at the top of the sweeping stone steps, the bitter winter wind whipping his dark coat around his legs. Flanking him were four heavily armed security guards.
A sleek silver Mercedes pulled into the circular driveway, braking aggressively.
Ethan Dawson stepped out. He was wearing his expensive designer coat, his hair perfectly coiffed, but his face was pale, his eyes darting nervously toward the armed men.
He looked up the steps and swallowed hard at the sight of Gabriel Moretti.
"Mr. Moretti," Ethan called out, forcing a fake, confident smile. "I apologize for the intrusion. There seems to have been a terrible misunderstanding. I'm here to pick up my wife, Claire, and my daughter."
Gabriel did not move. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at Ethan like a lion examining a sick gazelle.
"You don't have a wife," Gabriel said, his voice carrying easily over the wind. "And you certainly don't have a daughter."
Ethan’s fake smile faltered. "Look, I know what this looks like. Claire and I had a fight. She was emotional after the birth, hormones running wild. She wandered off. I’m incredibly grateful you found her, and my father's company will gladly compensate you for your trouble. But I need to take my family home now."
"She didn't wander off," Gabriel said coldly, taking one slow step down the stairs. "You handed her divorce papers in her hospital bed. You cut off her credit cards. You told her she had to leave the condo because she gave birth to a girl instead of a boy."
Ethan bristled, his aristocratic arrogance briefly overriding his fear. "That is a private marital matter! You have no right to interfere in my marriage, Moretti! Bring Claire out here right now. She is legally my wife!"
Gabriel took another step down. The armed guards tightened their grips on their weapons.
"Legally, she is your victim," Gabriel said softly, though the menace in his tone was deafening. "But practically, she is under my protection. Which means she belongs to my house."
Ethan scoffed loudly. "Your protection? What are you going to do, kidnap her? The police will be here in five minutes if you don't hand her over. Dawson Development has the mayor on speed dial. You can't just steal my family!"
Gabriel finally reached the bottom of the steps. He walked slowly toward Ethan, closing the distance until he was inches from the younger man's face. Ethan instinctively backed up, his shoulder hitting the door of his Mercedes.
"Call the police," Gabriel whispered, his dark eyes boring into Ethan's terrified soul. "Call the mayor. Call your father. Call God if you think he'll answer. But if you ever step foot on my property again, or if you ever try to contact Claire, I will not send lawyers after you. I will come for you myself. And I promise you, Ethan, there won't be enough left of you to bury."
Ethan trembled, all the blood draining from his face. He had spent his life bullying people with money, but he was staring into the face of a man who dealt in blood.
"Get off my land," Gabriel ordered.
Ethan scrambled into his car, slammed the door, and sped away, the tires squealing on the cold asphalt.
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Gabriel watched him go, his jaw tight. Ethan Dawson was a coward, but cowards were dangerous when backed into a corner.
The war had just begun.
