Chapter 109
Gabriel's POV
The phone's vibration tore through the night's silence at three in the morning, dragging me back from shallow sleep into reality.
Aiden's name flashed on the screen. At this hour, he would never call unless something catastrophic had happened. I rolled out of bed, barefoot on the cold floor, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window before answering. The city's night cast a layer of cold, sharp light against the glass.
"Boss, we've got a situation in the East District." Aiden's voice was low and tense, with sirens and chaotic crowds faintly audible in the background. "There's been an explosion near the downtown gym. A car was blown to scrap metal."
I narrowed my eyes, my fingertips tapping rhythmically against the window frame. "Get to the point."
"The victim was Adrian Montague, the Montague family's only son." He paused, his voice growing heavier. "And they left our calling card at the scene."
My fingers stopped abruptly.
"What calling card?"
"A badge. The eagle and crossed swords—our crest." Aiden drew a deep breath. "And the bomb—C-4 military-grade explosive. The formula and detonation device match the specifications from our warehouse inventory. Police have already cordoned off the scene, but the Montague people got there first. Russell went to identify the body himself."
I closed my eyes, my mind rapidly sorting through the timeline.
Adrian Montague. Twenty-four years old. The Montague family's sole male heir. His days were spent obsessing over nightclubs and gyms—he'd never posed any threat to me. I'd never given an order to touch him. Killing him served no purpose except to enrage Russell and turn an already tense situation into total chaos.
But now, someone had made that decision for me.
"What's Russell's reaction?" I turned to look at the bed. Isabella had already sat up, arms wrapped around her knees, confusion and wariness in her eyes.
"He's issued a bounty." Aiden's voice grew even colder. "One hundred million dollars for Miss Langley's life. He said... he wants you to know what it feels like to lose the person you love most."
My fingers clenched suddenly, and the phone casing gave a faint crack.
"With what authority?" I let out a cold laugh. "Does he actually believe he has that right?"
"Boss, Russell's already lost it. He just ordered our East District cargo dock blown up, and he's contacted Marcus." Aiden's report was swift and efficient. "We intercepted their call. Russell promised the Donovan family priority access to arms supply in exchange for a joint operation to take you out."
I drew a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the rage churning in my chest.
"Increase security at the estate. Double Isabella's protection detail to twelve men, rotating shifts around the clock." I turned my head toward her. Her face had gone somewhat pale, but her gaze remained steady.
"Understood."
I ended the call. Isabella had already climbed out of bed and crossed to stand beside me.
"Someone's framing you, aren't they?" Her voice was quiet, but her fingers gripped the edge of her robe so tightly the fabric bunched and wrinkled. "I heard... Adrian died in the explosion."
"Yes." I reached out and took her ice-cold fingers in mine. "This doesn't fit the pattern of our usual enemies. It's more likely someone inside the Montague family made the move."
"Marcus?" She looked up at me, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "Why would he kill Adrian? Aren't they supposed to be allies?"
I led her over to the couch and poured her a glass of warm water.
"Because of Olivia." My tone was grave. "Adrian was Russell's only son. As long as he was alive, Olivia would always be just the 'backup heir.' But if Adrian dies..."
Isabella accepted the glass, her hand trembling slightly. "Then Olivia becomes the sole heir."
"And Marcus needs an ally he can fully control." I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes. "Olivia's obsessed with him, hungry for power. She's far easier to manipulate than Adrian ever was. So..."
"So he killed Adrian, framed you, and now Russell's declaring war on you." Isabella's voice carried a faint tremor. "That way Marcus can sit back and watch you destroy each other."
"Smart." I opened my eyes and looked at her. Her face was still pale, but her gaze had already cleared. "Now do you understand why I told you there are no innocent people in this world? Everyone's calculating. Everyone's waiting for someone else to make a mistake."
She fell silent for a long while before finally nodding.
"So what do we do now?"
"We hit back." I stood and walked to the window. The city's lights flickered in the darkness like scattered embers. "Since Russell's already blown up our dock and Marcus's people participated in the attack, we can't just sit and wait for death."
I turned to face her. "I'm going to give them a surprise."
Three hours later, the first rays of dawn pierced through the winter clouds. I'd summoned my core team to the office. By six in the morning, five men sat gathered around my desk—Aiden holding a stack of files, Quincy leaning against the wall with a grim expression, and three other intelligence officers spreading out detailed dossiers on both the Montague and Donovan families.
"What's the damage from the East District dock?" I asked.
"Three warehouses destroyed, two cargo ships sunk. Direct economic loss approximately eighty million dollars." Aiden flipped open a file. "Twelve attackers total. Four were Montague men. The other eight..."
"Were Donovan's people." Quincy picked up the thread, pulling a photograph from his pocket and tossing it onto the desk. "I recognize this one. He's one of Marcus's personal bodyguards. Handles the dirty work."
I picked up the photo. Though he wore a mask, I recognized his build and stance immediately.
I set the photo down, my fingers tapping against the desk. "So he really thinks he can muddy the waters."
"Boss, how do we retaliate?" Aiden asked. "Do we hit the Donovan strongholds directly?"
"No." I shook my head and walked over to the massive map mounted on the wall. "Attacking their bases is surface-level. What I want is to completely strip them of their ability to fight back."
I pointed to several red marks on the map. "The Montague family's arms transport has three main lines—the northern route is maritime, the central and southern routes are overland, each passing through different key nodes."
"What about their weapons depots?" Quincy asked.
"Two primary locations." I circled the positions on the map. "One's in an abandoned steel mill on the outskirts of San Victor, disguised as an industrial equipment warehouse. The other's in the underground wine cellar complex near the lake district, on the surface a high-end wine storage facility."
Aiden frowned. "Both locations have heavy security. Especially the lake district—that's where Russell keeps his core armed forces."
"I know." I looked at everyone present. "Which is why we can't go in with brute force. We need strategy."