Chapter 4 - The Poisoner’s Shadow
I didn't sleep.
The silence of the penthouse was too heavy.
Every time a floorboard creaked or the wind whistled against the glass, I jumped.
Around 3:00 AM, I heard voices coming from the main hall.
I crept out of my room, my bare feet silent on the cold marble.
I saw Gabriel standing by the window, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a chest marked by scars—reminders of a life lived in the trenches of a shadow war.
He was talking to a man I recognized as his head of security, a giant named Silas.
"The analysis is back," Silas said.
"The broth was laced with a synthetic derivative of foxglove. Digitalis. It would have looked like a heart attack. Clean. Professional."
"And Duvall?" Gabriel asked.
"He's awake. He claims he doesn't know how it got in the pot. He says he was alone in the kitchen for ten minutes before the service started."
Gabriel turned, his face a mask of fury.
"He lies. No one enters my kitchen without the Head Chef’s permission."
I stepped out from the shadows.
"He’s not lying," I said.
Both men turned to look at me.
"Elara," Gabriel said, his voice softening just a fraction. "Go back to bed."
"No," I said, walking toward them.
"I saw the kitchen staff tonight. Everyone was terrified. But there was one person who wasn't."
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "Who?"
"Fletcher Dane," I said.
"He was the one who told everyone not to touch the chef. He was the one who tried to stop me from bringing you the food. He was the one who seemed... disappointed when I said I would cook."
Gabriel looked at Silas.
Silas nodded. "Dane has been with the organization for six years. He manages the books for Maison Noir."
"Check his accounts," Gabriel ordered.
"And check his phone records for the last hour. If he’s the leak, I want him brought here."
Silas disappeared into the darkness of the hall.
Gabriel turned to me.
The anger in his eyes was still there, but there was something else now.
Admiration.
"You're observant," he said.
"You have to be, when you're a waitress," I said. "You learn to read people by how they treat the help."
Gabriel walked toward me, his presence overwhelming.
"And how do I treat you, Elara?"
"Like a prize," I said. "Like a beautiful bird in a cage."
He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
"Is the cage so bad?" he asked. "You have everything you need here. Safety. Luxury. A kitchen that would make a master chef weep."
"It's missing one thing," I said.
"What?"
"My freedom."
He laughed, but it wasn't a kind sound.
"Freedom is an illusion, Elara. Out there, you are free to be poor. Free to be hungry. Free to be killed by men who don't even know your name."
He stepped closer, his body brushing against mine.
"In here, you have a purpose. You have me."
Suddenly, the lights in the penthouse flickered.
A low, mechanical hum vibrated through the floor.
"Silas?" Gabriel called out.
There was no answer.
The lights went out completely, plunging us into absolute darkness.
I felt Gabriel’s hand snap onto my wrist.
"Stay behind me," he hissed.
The sound of glass shattering echoed from the kitchen.
Someone was inside.
Gabriel pulled a handgun from a hidden holster at the small of his back.
The silence was deafening.
In the dark, I could hear his heartbeat, steady and slow.
He wasn't afraid. He was hunting.
We moved through the shadows of the living room.
A red laser dot danced across the wall, searching for a target.
"Down!" Gabriel whispered.
He tackled me to the floor just as a hail of bullets shattered the glass wall behind us.
The rain poured into the room, cold and biting.
Gabriel fired back, the flashes of his muzzle lighting up the room like strobe lights.
I saw a figure in black diving behind the kitchen island.
"The kitchen!" I shouted. "They're using the service entrance!"
Gabriel didn't hesitate.
He stood up, firing with a precision that was terrifying.
There was a grunt of pain, and a body fell against the stainless steel counters.
Gabriel moved like a ghost, flanking the intruder.
He grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him against the refrigerator.
"Who sent you?" Gabriel roared.
The man didn't speak. He bit down on something in his mouth.
Seconds later, his body went limp.
"Cyanide pill," Gabriel spat, dropping the body like trash.
He turned to me, his face covered in a fine spray of blood.
"They're coming for you, Elara. They know you're the reason I'm still breathing."
He walked over to me and pulled me up.
He didn't let go of my waist.
"The cage just got a lot smaller," he said.
May you like
"From now on, you don't leave my sight. Not for a second."
***
