Forty-five

Forty-five
Isabela

The air between Gabriel and me had grown heavier with each passing day. André’s threats were no longer veiled; they were bold, loud, and looming. Every corner of our lives seemed to be under his scrutiny, and it felt as though the walls were closing in.

Gabriel had barely slept the night before. I could see it in the way he moved—his shoulders tense, his jaw tight. He had spent hours poring over documents in his office, consulting with Laura and his security team. Now, as he sat across from me at the breakfast table, his usual composed demeanor had cracks.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in my chest.

He looked up from his untouched coffee, his eyes darker than usual. “Laura called this morning. André’s legal team is pushing for a motion to seal the evidence. If they succeed, we’ll lose momentum.”

“What can we do?” I asked, leaning forward.

Gabriel hesitated, his fingers tapping against the table. “There might be a way. But it’s risky.”

“Riskier than what we’re already doing?”

“Yes.”

Later that afternoon, Gabriel summoned Laura to the house. We gathered in the living room, a large stack of papers spread across the coffee table. Laura’s sharp gaze flicked between the two of us as Gabriel outlined his plan.

“We need to confront André head-on,” Gabriel said. “If we leak part of the evidence to the press, it will force him to respond. Public scrutiny could be enough to push his allies to distance themselves from him.”

Laura’s expression hardened. “That’s playing with fire, Gabriel. If he finds out where the leak came from, the retaliation will be immediate and brutal.”

Gabriel nodded. “I know. But it’s a calculated risk. André thrives on power and secrecy. Exposing even a fraction of his operations will destabilize him.”

I listened quietly, my hands gripping the edge of the couch. “And what happens if this backfires?”

Gabriel’s gaze softened as he turned to me. “Then we regroup. But we can’t keep reacting to his moves. We have to take control of the narrative.”

That evening, I found myself in the garden, seeking solace in the cool night air. The stars above were bright, but they offered little comfort. Gabriel joined me, his footsteps soft against the stone path.

“You’re quiet,” he said, stopping beside me.

“I’m just trying to make sense of everything,” I replied. “It feels like every decision we make is a gamble. And I keep wondering when the stakes will be too high.”

Gabriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I think about that too. But every time I do, I remind myself why we’re doing this. For Miguel. For you. For a life where we don’t have to look over our shoulders.”

His words were steady, but I could hear the vulnerability beneath them. For all his strength and determination, Gabriel carried the weight of this fight as much for me as for himself.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked softly. “Getting involved with all of this?”

He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. “Not for a second. You and Miguel are the only things that make this worth it.”

For a moment, the world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the two of us. Gabriel’s hand brushed against mine, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. Despite everything, he was here. We were here. Together.

The next morning, Gabriel’s plan was set into motion. Laura had reached out to a trusted journalist, someone known for exposing corruption and taking down powerful figures. The reporter agreed to publish a carefully curated portion of the evidence, enough to raise questions without compromising the case.

The article went live before noon, and its impact was immediate. News outlets picked up the story, analysts dissected every detail, and André’s name was splashed across headlines. Gabriel and I watched the coverage from his office, a mix of relief and tension filling the air.

“This is it,” Gabriel said, his voice low. “The beginning of the end for André.”

“Or the beginning of his retaliation,” I added, unable to ignore the unease in my chest.

Gabriel reached for my hand, his grip firm. “We’ll handle whatever comes next. Together.”

By late afternoon, the backlash began. André released a statement through his legal team, dismissing the allegations as “fabricated lies” orchestrated by “disgruntled individuals with personal vendettas.” But the statement did little to quell the growing scrutiny.

Laura called to update us. “He’s panicking. I’ve already received calls from two of his former associates who want to talk. This could be the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for.”

Gabriel’s expression hardened. “Set up the meetings. We’ll take whatever leverage we can get.”

That night, as I put Miguel to bed, he looked up at me with sleepy eyes. “Mommy, is Gabriel going to keep us safe?”

My heart ached at the question. “Yes, my love. He’ll always keep us safe.”

Miguel nodded, his trust in my words absolute. As he drifted off to sleep, I sat beside him, my thoughts racing. Gabriel’s plan was working, but at what cost? André was cornered, and a cornered man was the most dangerous.

When I returned to the living room, Gabriel was waiting for me, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up as I entered, his gaze steady.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Asleep,” I said, sitting beside him. “He asked if you’d keep us safe.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “I will. No matter what it takes.”

I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers with his. “I believe you.”

For the first time in what felt like days, the tension eased slightly. We sat in silence, drawing strength from each other as the storm around us continued to brew.