Chapter 20 - The Final Stand
Tessa didn't run. Every instinct screamed at her to dive behind the counter, but she knew if she hid, Donato would start blindly firing into the crowded dining room, killing innocent people who had nothing to do with the syndicate war.
Instead, she stood her ground, her fingers slipping quietly into the deep pocket of her apron where she kept the heavy, silver-plated pocket watch Gabriel had given her—and the small, razor-sharp ceramic blade Marcus had taught her to conceal during her safehouse training.
Donato closed the distance rapidly, his finger tightening around the dual triggers of the shotgun, his eyes wild with sadistic glee. "Say goodbye, little waitress."
"You talk too much," a cold, calm voice echoed from the shadows near the kitchen entrance.
Donato spun around, startled, but he was too late.
Gabriel stood at the end of the aisle. He had slipped in through the rear service entrance the moment his car hit the alleyway, bypassing the front doors entirely. His face was a mask of absolute, glacial fury. In his hand, his silver-plated pistol was raised, locked, and leveled straight at Donato’s heart.
"Drop the gun, Donato," Gabriel commanded, his voice dropping an octave into a lethal whisper that cut through the silence of the terrified room. "Your war is over."
Donato’s face twisted in desperate rage. Instead of dropping the weapon, he swung the barrel away from Tessa, aiming directly at Gabriel's chest. "Then we die together, Rossi!"
Before Donato’s finger could pull the trigger, Tessa moved with lightning speed. She vaulted over the service station counter, hurling the heavy silver water pitcher directly into Donato’s face. The metal struck him squarely across the temple with a dull thud, throwing his aim off by crucial inches.
At the exact same millisecond, Gabriel’s pistol barked once.
A single gunshot cracked through the dining room, echoing off the marble pillars before fading into absolute silence. Donato Moretti froze mid-stride, his eyes widening in shock. The shotgun slipped from his trembling fingers, clattering loudly against the floorboards. He staggered backward two steps, clutching his chest as a dark crimson stain began to spread rapidly across his shirt, before collapsing face-first onto the shattered crystal glass.
The dining room was dead silent. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Gabriel slowly lowered his smoking pistol, his chest heaving with adrenaline. He rushed across the room, dropping to his knees beside Tessa, who was standing unharmed beside the overturned table.
"Are you hit?" Gabriel demanded frantically, his hands gripping her shoulders as his eyes searched her body for any sign of injury. "Tessa, talk to me. Are you hurt?"
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"I'm fine," Tessa breathed, letting out a long, shuddering sigh as the overwhelming adrenaline finally receded from her veins. She looked down at Gabriel, a soft, genuine smile touching her lips. "I told you, Gabriel... I'm hard to get rid of."
Gabriel pulled her tightly into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, holding her as though he would never let go. The war was over. The ghosts were finally laid to rest.
