Chapter 8
That night, the staff quarters felt smaller and colder than ever, but Rachel didn't unpack her few cardboard boxes. At midnight, a soft knock echoed against her wooden door. Opening it, she found Gabriel standing in the dimly lit hallway, wearing a loose black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tattoos stark against his pale skin. He held a small, antique wooden music box in his calloused hands. "I didn't mean to wake you," Gabriel whispered, his voice rough with exhaustion. "I found this in Daniel’s old footlocker in the sub-basement. I thought Lily might want it." Rachel looked at the music box, recognizing the intricate hand-carved cherry wood immediately. Daniel had spent weeks crafting it during his six months in their attic, telling her stories of the brother he had left behind in the syndicate. She stepped aside, letting Gabriel slip into the tiny room without waking the sleeping child curled on the narrow cot. Gabriel walked softly over to the cot, setting the music box down on the bedside table. He stood looking down at Lily for a long, silent moment, his chest rising and falling heavily beneath his black shirt. "She has his eyes," Gabriel murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "And his stubborn streak. I saw it when she walked right up to me tonight. She wasn't afraid of me at all." "She didn't know you were a monster," Rachel replied quietly, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her black dress. "Children only see what you show them. To her, you were just daddy's best friend." Gabriel turned his head, his slate-gray eyes locking onto hers in the shadows. "And what do you see when you look at me, Rachel?" "I see a man who lives in a cage of his own making," Rachel answered unblinkingly. "A man who traded his soul for a throne, and then wondered why the palace felt like a tomb." Gabriel didn't flinch away from the brutal honesty of her words. He took a slow step toward her, closing the distance between them in the cramped room. "I spent five years believing I had nothing left to lose," he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. "And tonight, standing in that dining room, I realized I had everything to lose, and I didn't even know it was mine." Rachel’s breath hitched. She looked up into his rugged face, seeing the raw, unmasked devotion burning in his dark eyes—a devotion that terrified her far more than his syndicate enemies ever could. "Be careful, Gabriel," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I am not a prize to be won, and I am not a piece of property to be kept in your vault." "You're the only real thing in this entire estate," Gabriel replied, his hand rising slowly to gently tuck a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. "And I would burn this whole empire to the ground before I ever let anyone hurt you again."
