GABRIEL
“Let’s try to avoid bullets today,” I said to my refection before I stepped out of my room. Part of me expected to see Dona waiting outside, ready to strike swiftly. Luckily, my expectations were not met and my trip to the elevator and down to the dining room was a quiet one. I could hear muttering and saw two familiar men standing in front of the door, eyeing me like dogs… Well they are dogs.
I snickered at the thought and decided to name them. “Morning, Rocky, Coco.”
They looked at me as if I was insane and were about to say something when I nodded to the door. “I would open it myself but, ahh…” I reached up to my arm. “I think one of you might have pulled my arms back too far…not to mention the bullet.”
“The bullet our boss gave you.”
“The one that didn’t kill me, yes I know. The door…” I waited and the big Irish one opened it but held his hand out to stop me from entering the room.
“Sir. It’s him,” Rocky said.
“Him has a name,” I asserted but he ignored me. He nodded to the other guard before opening the door wider for me to enter. The Callahans all sat, Dona included, in a different arrangement than before. Ethan was at the head, with Wyatt on his right and Ivy on his left. Donatella sat next to her and Helen her other side. The butler nodded for me to sit two seats down from Wyatt; they were putting distance between us. Dona drank some sort of hangover juice, rubbing the side of her head.
“Gabriel,” I said to Rocky. He looked confused. “My name is Gabriel, not him. I’m saying this for your sake, Rocky. I’m sure your boss prefers you to be more descriptive when announcing his guests. I mean, you wouldn’t want him to seem rude and ill-bred, now would you?”
He glanced to Ethan and I watched from the corner of my eye as he continued to eat his breakfast as if he couldn’t hear us. Meaning he wouldn’t allow Rocky to wiggle out of accepting this defeat… It would look bad on him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Gabriel,” Rocky said to me.
“Leave us, Grayson,” Ethan finally said to him and nodded to me. “Gabriel, welcome. We didn’t expect you’d been joining us for breakfast.”
“Your expectations are correct,” I said when the doors closed behind me. “I’m not here for breakfast.”
Casting the helmet in my hand over my shoulder, I walked around the table aiming directly for her seat. She ate her toast calmly, as if she didn’t notice I was in the room, so I leaned over until my lips were touching her ear and she froze, “I came for you. Let’s go.”
“Gabriel, my brother invited you eat at his table.” Wyatt scowled at me, tearing his bread with more violence than necessary. “You wouldn’t want to seem rude and ill-bred rejecting that offer, now would you?”
Standing up straighter, I rested on Dona’s chair. “Seem? Wyatt, didn’t you notice? I am rude and my breeding is quite questionable.”
“I did notice.”
“Then why bother talking?”
He bit his tongue and I snickered.
“You aren’t off to a good start this morning,” Dona finally spoke before sipping her drink.
“How so, my love?” I asked, making Ethan pause for the first time. I ignored him and focused on her.
She inhaled. “Not only are you late, and I abhor tardiness, but your greater offence is expecting that I’ll stop everything I plan on doing today to go off with you again. I already have a migraine.”
“I cannot be late to a function I didn’t plan on attending as I told the maid this morning, which is why you were not expecting me. And I was not expecting you to stop what you have planned today. I checked with your assistant; we’ll be done in time and I’ll drive you over. As for the migraine… Well, was the wine at least worth it?”
“Wait, go back; you did what?” She looked over her shoulder at me. “How do you even know who my assistant is?”
I smiled, reaching down to steal a piece of her bacon. “Did you know your grandmother is one hell of a tough negotiator? I had to promise our first daughter would be named after her. I told her you might want to name her after your mother so she said she would settle with Melody-Evelyn but it must be hyphenated because she would not be regulated to a shitty middle name.”
“Why am I not surprised by that?” Ivy muttered behind Dona’s back.
I wasn’t sure what was funnier, remembering that conversation or the look on her face; it was a mixture of surprise, shock, and horror. Dona raised her hand to speak but then paused, shaking her head.
“If this your idea of trying to woo me…”
“Woo?” I laughed at the word. “No, that was yesterday. This, right now, is me trying to make you an accomplice in a bank robbery.”
Her mouth dropped open and I laughed. Not just me, but Ivy and Helen did as well.
“Are you insane?” she asked me.
“Only as much as you are. So…you coming or not?” I asked.
She just stared in shock before shaking her head. “Seventy-seven percent of all bank and casino robberies end in capture or death. Nineteen percent only make the annual salary of a cafe barista.”
“First, I’m glad to see you’ve thought about this—”
“I read!”
“Who casually reads up on the statics of bank robberies if they don’t want to rob a bank?” I questioned, my eyebrows rising in honest confusion.
“Who doesn’t read up on it when they do want to rob one?” she yelled at me. She was really getting worked up which just made her more beautiful and hilarious.
“Secondly,” I went on, ignoring her outburst, “in all your reading you must have noticed that four percent of robbers make it big. Think of it like Ocean’s 11, but with nine less people.”
“Why eleven and not twelve or thirteen?” Ivy asked, seriously thinking about it. I’d forgotten where we were for a moment.
I leaned over to look at her. “Ivy, is that really a question? Twelve and thirteen were horrible.”
“Plus, they were arrested in twelve and thirteen,” Helen said.
“One of them got arrested in eleven, too,” Ivy defended.
“But not for robbery,” Helen and I said at the same time.
I glanced down her, nodding. “Bloody well done.”
“What the hell is happening!” Dona screamed, drawing our attention to her. Her brothers looked at all of us as if we were modern art the MET museum. “They’re crazy…all of them!”
“Well, that’s hurtful,” I said, moving to lean on the edge of Helen’s chair and looking to her. “Apparently our fearless Dona is scared and I’m going to be late, so would you like help me rob a bank?”
She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips; “Which bank—?”
“I am not scared; I’m just not an idiot!” Dona said to us.
“Neither am I. It’s not like I’m going to go in there shooting up the place. I do have plan. So, if I’m not an idiot, you must be a scaredy-cat.”
“I’m not five. That isn’t going to work on me.” She made a face.
“I’ll be leaving in ten minutes; if you have the time, I wouldn’t mind the help…” I said to Helen, winking at her before getting up and heading to the door, which opened as I approached.
“Coco, Rocky.” I nodded to the guards as they moved to tell Ethan whatever it was they needed too.
“The bank you’re robbing…” Ethan called out to me, finally speaking up. “Is it Wilson’s Bank?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
“If so, I have another account for you to rob, unless you plan on taking the whole bank down?” he asked, placing his elbows on the tables and folding his hand over one another.
I turned and politely said, “You have two options. Option one: you may ask for a favor and be in my debt. Option two: you may send a representative on your behalf to do what you need while I am there, preferably a female one. Preferably.”
“See you eight minutes.” I looked over to the ladies.
DONATELLA
I looked at the paper in Ethan’s hand.
“What account do you need the money from?”
“Tobias’s,” he answered, looking up at me. “We just found where he was hiding the money the other cartels were paying him; great timing, wouldn’t you say?”
“Or a set up,” Wyatt added, not looking at me.
“Well, should I leave this to you or not?” Ethan asked. Now he was asking me when he should or shouldn’t act like a giant asshole.
“I’ll handle it,” I muttered, reaching over to take the paper before heading to door.
“Looks like someone really wanted to go,” Helen muttered then pretended to be interested in the detailing on her silverware when I turned to glare at her.
Ignoring them all, I headed towards the front doors, which were already open. Gabriel leaned against a chrome and black motorcycle, the make of which I didn’t know. The handlebars were high and there was just barely enough room for two.
“You may want to consider changing,” he said, looking down to the black Christian Louboutin peep-toe spike heels I was wearing which matched perfectly with my high-waisted black trousers, white crop-top, and chain necklaces. “Not that you don’t looks stunning, as always.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to see one of the maids waiting, and I outstretched my hand to her. She looked confused.
“Hair-tie,” I finally said.
Nodding, she took her red hair out of the bun, picking off the strands on the band before giving it to me. Reaching up, I pulled my dark hair into a tight ponytail as I walked down the front stairs of the mansion, up to Gabriel and his bike.
“Let’s go. You’re on a time crunch, aren’t you?”
His eyebrow rose. “You aren’t going to argue? Demand to ride your own bike?”
“No matter how many times I tell you, you seem to think I am idiot,” I said, brushing him out of my way and throwing my leg over the bike before looking back at him. “I don’t know where we are going and if anything goes wrong, I’ll simply abandon you and there won’t be any trace that I was there. Let’s get this over with.”
“You look so beautiful,” he said randomly before sighing, “and yet I hardly notice because of all the venom coming out of your mouth.”
“Me and my beauty don’t exist for you or anyone else to notice,” I reminded him.
He grinned and I didn’t know why. He didn’t explain, instead handing me a helmet that I didn’t take it, much to his annoyance. He didn’t comment, instead throwing the helmet to one of the butlers. He took out two pairs of aviators, putting one on me and then himself before lifting his leg over and taking a seat in front of me.
“Don’t say hold on tight… It’s cliché,” I said into his ear, wrapping my arms around his torso. Even through his leather jacket I could feel his hard stomach. His whole body was nothing but solid muscle. I didn’t know why I noticed; it’s not like he didn’t look strong. But I did notice. Just like I noticed he smelled like peppermint.
“You don’t have to hold on tight,” he said, revving the engine. “You just have to make sure I can feel your breasts pressed up against my back.”
Before I could speak, he kicked off and we were on our way, gravel kicking up as he went around the fountain, then out the gates and on to the street. Like a bullet, we cut through wind. I could feel my heart pumping in my chest, though not from fear. I liked how he rode—fearlessly, dangerously, speeding faster and faster. He swerved through traffic, not stopping for anything or anyone. When others slowed down as the light turned yellow, he sped up. If I wasn’t holding on as tightly as I was, I would have flown off long ago. I was thankful my heels fit my feet like a glove, because one wrong move and they’d come off before I did.
The wind and his speed made it impossible to speak, and I didn’t need to until he suddenly reached up and placed his hand over mine. He slowly moved our joined hands to the spot right over his heart. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to pull until I felt it. His heartbeat. It was racing just as hard as mine…and…and each beat came right after mine. My heart would beat, then his, and then mine, as if—as if they were having a conversation. I was so awed by it, I didn’t realize he wasn’t holding my hand there anymore… I was willingly leaving my hand over his heart.
Once I did realize, I dropped my hand back down to his torso, which made the bastard laugh. I couldn’t see his face, but his body shook and in return shook me.
He’s so annoying, I thought as I saw the W logo of Wilson bank on the glass tower up ahead. He didn’t slow down, and within a few seconds we passed it. Driving a couple blocks over to the new Obelisk Hotel, one of the tallest buildings in the city, he waved something to the guards as he drove into the underground parking garage. Not a single vehicle was there. Slowly, he pulled up in front of elevator, then stopped, parking, He cracked his neck and checked his watch.
“We don’t have much time,” he said seriously, much more serious than he’d been when he talked about this.
“This isn’t the bank,” I stated as I stepped down, brushing off my clothes.
“It isn’t,” he agreed, getting down too and taking my hand. I pulled away. He glanced over his shoulders. “You’re in unchartered territory, don’t fight me too much…”
“This is Chicago,” I stepped into his face. “It’s not unchartered. It’s my territory.”
“Yes, love, can we go now?” he asked, waving his hand towards the elevators.
I didn’t say anything, stepping into the elevator. He followed me inside. “Also, just because I’m not fighting you on that nickname doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
“Tell me what you’d like me to call you and I’ll say that instead,” he said as he texted on his phone. “Love.”
“Dona,” The moment I said it and saw his grin, I regretted saying anything.
“Dona is something only family calls you, correct?”
I walked right into that one, I thought. Wow, I mused, stepping into the beautiful Egyptian lobby. The walls were covered with hieroglyphs all the way to the top. The ceiling was a point, where light came down right over the fountain which spurted water upward and back down like an umbrella.
“The final numbers, Sir,” a woman with tan skin, long brown hair, and big hazel puppy-dog eyes said as she handed Gabriel an envelope. When he took it and checked the contents, her eyes shifted to me. But when I looked back, she quickly looked away again.
“They’re wrong,” Gabriel said to her and she froze before leaning in.
“Everything looks fine to me—”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just a mix up at the bank. We were planning on going later, but…”
“I can go. What’s the matter?”
“It’s fine.” He smiled at her and reached into his pocket, pulling out a list. “Can you help get all of these for me instead?”
“Of course,” she said, frowning as she read.
I couldn’t help but be curious. However, before I could see, Gabriel took my arm and linked it with his, walking me out the front doors.
“I have many questions,” I said as I noticed the staff and security nod to him as we exited onto the street.
“Then ask,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket before looking over to me. He grabbed my hand as we started walking.
“Do you own this hotel?”
“No, but I know the person who does,” he replied.
“So, this person just trusts you to handle the management of it?”
He shook his head again. “They don’t trust me, but I don’t make it easy for them, either.”
His mouth was moving; I knew he was answering my questions but it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere.
“Okay,” I paused right outside a bakery, the line of which was annoyingly long. “What’s your connection to the hotel? Why do you—”
He stuck a piece of cake he’d stolen from the vender outside between my lips, before licking his fingers. “On second thought, why don’t you just observe, and when it’s all over I’ll explain?”
Licking the frosting off my lips, I glared at him, but he didn’t even have the decency to look back. Instead he placed a hundred dollars into the tip jar of the vender before taking my hand again. When I tried to pull away, he held on even tighter.
“It’s a beautiful city,” he said, looking at the skyscrapers. “In an industrialist type of way.”
When I looked up at the buildings, I couldn’t help but think of my father. “Of course, it’s beautiful. It was built by us… From digging for potatoes to sitting on clouds. Under smoke, with dust in all our mouths, raging winds trying to lift us from the ground, and the terrible burden of destiny on our shoulders; we built this mighty, chaotic, passionate, vicious, and unforgiving wonder of the world. So, when we say I am from Chicago, the rest of the world knows you are a fighter.”
Blinking rapidly, I looked over to him to find him staring at me, but the look in his gray eyes was odd. He looked sad…and worried. “That’s what my father used to declare proudly until my mother let him know many Italian immigrants helped… Why am I telling you this?”
The question was more to myself than him, but he answered with a soft smile. “I’m not sure, but I’m enjoying it. Tell me more once we’re done here.”
“I’ll pass. Wait, here?” I looked in front of me, and sure enough across the street was Wilson Bank.
He’s seriously robbing a bank? I thought as we walked inside, however that question left my mind as I saw him reach for a deposit slip and actually begin to fill it out.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced up and scanned the room before looking back at me. “Banking.”
Urgh! This man! I’d actually never felt the need to face-palm, but he made no sense to me. He didn’t act normally, nor did he seem to have a care in the world. Finishing up, he walked to one of the lines for the teller, checking his watch as he went.
“Love,” he said, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around my body, his lips at my ears, “my life is about to be in your hands. I just need you to intercede on my behalf. But don’t fight them…”
“What? Let me go and who—”
Before I could question further, he pushed me down to the ground as two men came into building, firing bullets into the celling.
“EVERYONE DOWN NOW!” The first man in all black with a monkey mask on his face yelled.
“MOVE IT!” I heard to the right where the second and third gunmen was already behind the teller glass. With a semi-automatic pointed in their direction, he slowly kicked the tellers out until they were in the main lobby with us.
I glanced over to Gabriel, who quickly rolled something in the gap between the base of the door to the teller both. However, whatever it was beeped as soon as it entered the booth and grabbed their attention. All three of the monkey heads, still pointing their guns, turned towards him. Gabriel stared at them wide-eyed.
“What did you just do?” the first monkey asked, walking out of the booth towards us…him.
“I…I…noth…nothing,” Gabriel stuttered…and I didn’t know him well, I didn’t know him at all really, but I knew he wasn’t the type of man who stuttered. He was acting. All of this was an act.
BANG!
I was shocked when the robber fired, but the bullet didn’t hit Gabriel, instead hitting the ground beside him.
“Lie to me again and the next one is going through you!” The monkey yelled, grabbing his shirt.
This is some acting…kinda wish he’d told me to bring a snack.
Gabriel grabbed on to his wrist and said, “It’s an alarm. You can kill me, or you can take what you want before the police get here, and they’ll be here much quicker than you think.”
“FUCK! You little shit!” The man yelled, taking the end of his gun and hitting it into Gabriel’s face. You’d think once was enough for the cameras but he kept going. Gabriel blocked it with his arm and glanced at me wide-eyed, as if he was telling me to do something. I’d seen him fight. He could easily take the idiot on his own.
“Intercede,” He mouthed to me.
I shook my head and mouthed back. “Not my fight.”
And I wasn’t going to get involved. It was only when I saw blood from his arm—the arm Ethan had shot—that I moved. I wasn’t sure why, but I did.
“Stop!” I sat up, pushing the gunman away. “He’s bleeding, you fucking dumbass!”
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” He turned to me.
Rising to my feet, I dusted off my shoulders. “I’m talking to you, Curious George! How many other people in here have monkey heads on?”
“You must be stupid, bitch—”
“I’m stupid?” I laughed. “You come in to rob a bank, you don’t take anyone’s cellphones or tie anyone up? And you lose your cool over a freaking alarm? What is this, amateur hour? Someone oughta smack the ape out of you all—”
“SHUT UP OR YOU CAN TASTE A BULLET!” he hollered, pointing a barrel at my face.
In a flash, Gabriel was on his feet and in front of me, standing between myself and the barrel of the gun. “Best be pointing that thing at me, mon ami. Your odds of living are higher that way.”
“Let’s try it—”
“One. ONE! ENOUGH! ONE!” One of the other monkeys yelled, coming over to us and pointing his gun at me. “Both of you on the ground and shut up, or I swear, we will shoot you.”
I glared at him. It was because Gabriel grabbed on to me and pulled me down that I even got back on the ground. They kept their guns on us as they moved back behind the teller counter.
“Where the hell did you get these guys? They’re morons,” I whispered to him.
BANG!
It happened so quickly that it took me a second to realize one of the other prisoners had tried to make a run for the door. Now he was lying face down on the ground, just a few feet from freedom, a bullet in his spine.
“WE AREN’T FUCKIN’ AROUND HERE! SIT DOWN! SHUT UP!” It was then that we could all hear the sirens outside. “SHIT!”
I looked to Gabriel and he just stared at the teen’s body before looking over to me, his eyes cold, deadly, as he said, “These aren’t my guys.”
“What?” My mind started to work overtime as I replayed the last ten minutes in my head. If they weren’t his and they weren’t mine, then they were real bank robbers. But what were the odds of them robbing the same bank as his on the same day…wait. His words from earlier coming to mind.
He’d said, “Don’t fight them…”
He had known they were coming. But he wasn’t working with them.
I looked at him again but his head was down, his hand on his arm. Anyone would think he was hunched over from pain. But since I was so close, I could see the wicked grin on his face.
He’s robbing a bank while it’s being robbed. They were his Trojan horses.
He must have known I was looking because he lifted his head slightly to look at me. The grin on his face widened. “I’m one-eighth Greek and the hotel is not mine. It’s yours. A wedding gift. And when this is over, we’ll rest there for the night.”
“You’re telling me this why?”
“Because you’re smiling and it isn’t fake, and so I’m glad.”
I paused. Reaching up to touch my cheeks… I was smiling. I didn’t know when that had happened. It didn’t matter because I couldn’t look away… Part of me was once again in shock, knowing this wouldn’t be the only the last time I was Gabriel surprised me. But knowing that made my heart race.
What was going to happen next with him?