Page 91 of Forever Mine

“I need to run to the office and grab some files. Do you want to come with me?” Gabriel asks after we’ve unloaded the car. I shake my head. I’m looking forward to a nice long shower and curling up with a book. Gabriel gives me a quick but steamy kiss, promises to bring home my favorite Mexican for dinner, and heads out the door.

I take a look around the first floor of the condo and can’t help but notice how the space has changed in just a few short weeks. What once was a barren and white space with no personality has morphed into a hybrid Monica and Gabriel home. It showcases my personality and taste with Gabriel’s clean lines and masculine furniture. It’s the perfect epitome of our relationship. Seeing our personalities mixed together makes me happier than I’ve ever been.

I immediately hightail it upstairs to the master bathroom. Gabriel’s shower is my happy place. Probably partially due to all the sex we’ve had in there, but also just because it’s an amazing space where I almost feel my worries and stresses being washed away.

After an incredibly long shower where I pruned significantly, a text from Gabriel tells me he’s been pulled into a couple of showings with a new realtor and won’t be home until after dinner. Grabbing a quick plate of cheese and crackers, I sit down at my laptop and open Instagram. Chase got me following several Indie authors who self-published books through Amazon. I’m suddenly wondering if I could do it. Could I write and self-publish a book? How hard could it be? I go down the rabbit hole of information, researching different writing programs, editing apps, and how to publish. I’ve always wondered if I could write a suspenseful thriller with a happily ever after. I’m not sure I could write the smutty things Chase reads, but I think writing could be a great outlet.

By the time Gabriel comes home, I have an outline mapped out for a twenty-something woman who finds out she was given up for adoption at birth by a mafia princess. She gets pulled back into the family once her biological mom is murdered. While not anywhere close to my story, there are enough coincidences. Hell, Mark Twain was famous for uttering the phrase ‘write what you know.’ I’m definitely not branching too far out of my wheelhouse for a debut book.

“Sorry I’m late,querida, but I brought queso,” Gabriel calls as he walks into the house.

“Then you’re immediately forgiven,” I shout back as I close my laptop and put it on the table beside me. I’ll tell Gabriel all about this at some point. But not today. I want to write a little and see if I feel comfortable sharing this new venture with him.

I’m not embarrassed to write; I know Gabriel will support me wholeheartedly. I just want to stew on this new idea for a bit. Make sure it’s something I really want to do.

As we sit down to eat, I feel the tension emanating in waves off Gabriel.

“Are you okay?” I say, my mouth full of chips and queso. I’m sure I look incredibly attractive, but I haven’t eaten most of the day. I got so focused on researching how to self-publish that I forgot to eat.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Gabriel answers, but he’s not meeting my eyes. In fact, his entire body is turned away from me. Instead, his focus appears to be on the floor beneath my feet.

“I don’t appreciate being lied to, Gabriel. You’re clearly not okay.”

He looks at me and sighs. “Fine. I talked to Liam this afternoon.”

I can feel my blood pressure rising. I subconsciously begin tapping my fingers together, which I’ve noticed is a weird tic I’ve recently started to display. “What did Liam say?”

Gabriel reaches over and gently places his hand over mine, effectively stopping the nervous tic. “He said Nicolas wasn’t fully working for the Bianchi family. He was working with another family.”

“What family?” I ask. “Can I talk to Nicolas? Maybe he’ll be more honest with me?”

“I’m sorry,querida. You can’t. Someone shot him. He’s dead.”

I stare at Gabriel in disbelief. “What?”

“His body was found in Fountain Creek near downtown.”

“And he was obviously murdered?” I ask.

“Yeah,querida. It was obviously a murder. Someone is sending a message.”

I’m quiet for a few minutes as my mind whirls with possibilities. Who wanted to send a message? A message to Nicolas, or a message for me? Was his own family behind this or the one he’s working with?

“Baby, breathe. I need you to breathe. Look at me,anjinho. Deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth,” Gabriel says. Jesus. I can barely see him; he’s so blurry right now. Why is he blurry? Fuck, his voice sounds like we’re in a tunnel. What the fuck is happening? “Breathe in and out. I’ve got you. You’re safe, Monica. I promise you’re safe,querida. Focus on my voice.”

I close my eyes and feel hot tears cascade down my cheeks as I focus on his voice and my own heartbeat, which is suspiciously loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gabriel could hear it too. After a few more moments of deep breaths, I finally feel a little more composed.

“What was that?” I whisper, my voice shaking with emotion.

“I think it was a panic attack,querida. It’s okay. You were bound to have one at one point or another. I’m just glad I was here to help you,” Gabriel answers quietly.

I look at him to see pain and compassion written across his face. He looks composed, but the tense jaw and bulging vein in his neck tells me otherwise. As he reaches behind his head to clasp his neck, I notice his fingers tremble ever so slightly.

“What family was he working with?” I ask. I feel like I already know. For some reason, knowing Marcus is dead, I know exactly which family is responsible.

“The Angelino family.”

“I fucking knew it,” I seethe.

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