She Secretly Kissed the Cold Mafia Boss’s Portrait, but the Real Man Behind Her Whispered Something That Changed Everything
Sophie appeared in the doorway.
“What?”
“Go away, Sophie.”
Sophie grinned.
“Oh, this sounds excellent.”
Two days before the gala, everything changed.
The foundation’s senior event director, Caroline Mercer, received a call that her husband had been hospitalized following a serious accident outside Indianapolis.
She left immediately.
Nadia didn’t hesitate.
She reorganized the staff assignments, contacted vendors, updated the emergency plans, and took responsibility for the remaining arrangements.
By seven that evening, she had skipped lunch, misplaced her phone twice, and threatened to personally carry twelve floral arrangements upstairs if the delivery company couldn’t find its paperwork.
At eight, Gabriel arrived.
He stood quietly at the entrance to the events office.
Nadia was speaking into two phones simultaneously.
“No, the musicians cannot use the kitchen entrance because the caterers are unloading there. And yes, the flowers should be ivory, not yellow. I don’t care what your supplier calls champagne. If it looks like butter, it’s yellow.”
She ended one call.
“I’m sorry,” she told the other. “Could you repeat that?”
Gabriel waited.
When she finally hung up, she looked at him.
“If you’re here about the portrait, I may actually commit a crime.”
“No.”
“Wonderful.”
“I’m here because you’ve been working fourteen hours.”
“Thirteen and a half.”
“That’s not an improvement.”
“I have a gala to save.”
Gabriel approached her desk.
“Tell me what you need.”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“To finish the event. What do you need?”
Nadia considered giving him the polite answer.
Then she remembered that several hundred people would soon be sitting in a ballroom expecting an evening that looked effortless.
“I need the final vendor budget released without waiting for Elliot’s approval. I need the south loading dock reopened. And I need someone to tell the musicians that the concert grand piano weighs considerably more than whatever they were imagining.”
“Done.”
She stared.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And the piano?”
“I’ll speak with them.”
She smiled before she could stop herself.
“Do you always solve problems this quickly?”
“Only when someone tells me the truth about what they need.”
Something in his voice made her pause.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel looked at the untouched sandwich beside her computer.
“Eat.”
“Excuse me?”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“Are you ordering me to have dinner?”
“I’m suggesting that collapsing at your own gala would be inconvenient.”
“I think you’re confusing concern with intimidation.”
“Does it work?”
She laughed.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
An hour later, Gabriel found her sitting barefoot on the office floor, surrounded by printed schedules and fabric samples.
He removed his suit jacket and sat across from her.
Nadia stared at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“On the floor?”
“Are there different rules down here?”
She handed him a clipboard.
“Check every name against the donor list.”
He accepted it without complaint.
For the next forty minutes, the feared Gabriel Castellan checked spelling, corrected table numbers, and listened while Nadia explained why the youngest scholarship recipients should be seated near the center of the ballroom instead of hidden at the back.
“People give more generously when they understand who they’re helping,” she said. “But these students aren’t decorations. They deserve to enjoy the evening, too.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“You think about that.”
“Of course.”
“Most people don’t.”
She shrugged.
“Then most people should.”
He watched her for a moment.
“What made you choose this work?”
Nadia hesitated.
“My mother was a school librarian. She raised my brother and me after my father died. Once, a community fundraiser paid for the repairs our school couldn’t afford. A broken roof, new computers, books. I remember how everyone came together.”
“And?”
“I wanted to make things like that happen.”
Gabriel lowered the clipboard.
“That’s a good reason.”
She looked away.
Something about being taken seriously by him was more unsettling than all his teasing.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Why the foundation?”
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
“My mother started it.”
“Is she still involved?”
“She died twelve years ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Gabriel looked at the papers in his hands.
“She believed that where a child begins shouldn’t decide how far that child is allowed to go.”
Nadia swallowed.
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was.”
A long silence settled between them.
Then Nadia slid half her sandwich toward him.
“You should eat, too.”
He looked at it.
“Is that an order?”
“A professional recommendation.”
For the first time, Gabriel Castellan laughed.
Not an almost-smile.
Not a quiet breath.
An actual laugh.
Nadia felt something shift inside her chest.
It frightened her more than the rumors, the armed guards, or the midnight visitors.
Because the man she’d spent months observing from a safe distance suddenly felt dangerously real.
And real people could break your heart.
The discovery came the following afternoon.
Nadia was reviewing the final expense allocations when she noticed a payment listed under temporary facilities services.
Eighty-six thousand dollars.
She frowned.
The foundation had rented additional equipment, certainly, but she knew every significant invoice associated with the gala.
There was no temporary facilities contract for that amount.
She opened the attached authorization.
Approved by Elliot Bryce.
She searched the vendor database.
Nothing.
Then she noticed the same vendor code appearing in records from the previous month.
And the month before that.
Nadia leaned closer.
The payments had been made to a company called Ralston Advisory Holdings.
She searched the contract archive.
No agreement.
No description of services.
Only repeated transfers, all authorized through Elliot’s office.
By the time she finished reviewing the available records, she had identified more than four hundred thousand dollars in unexplained payments.
Her stomach tightened.
She remembered her old employer.
The suspicious invoices.
The questions she’d asked.
The way they’d made her feel unreasonable for noticing something everyone else preferred to ignore.
Not again.
She saved the reconciliation notes into the foundation’s restricted reporting system and printed the transaction summary.
Then the office door opened.
Elliot Bryce stepped inside.
He was fifty-three, handsome in a polished, forgettable way, with silver hair and immaculate cuffs.
“Working late, Nadia?”
“Finishing the gala accounts.”
His eyes drifted toward the paper beside her keyboard.
“What accounts?”
“Final expense reconciliation.”
“I thought Caroline handled those.”
“Normally.”
“Then leave them for her.”
Nadia smiled.
“I’d rather finish.”
Elliot approached the desk.
His gaze landed on the vendor name.
For one instant, his face went completely still.
“Where did you get that?”
“The financial records.”
“Those aren’t part of your responsibilities.”
“The payments are classified as event expenses.”
“Close the file.”
Nadia slowly leaned back.
“Why?”
His pleasant expression vanished.
“Because I’m telling you to.”
She stared at him.
Something cold moved through her.
“Mr. Bryce, is there a legitimate contract associated with these payments?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“It becomes my concern when I’m asked to approve a budget containing them.”
Elliot walked toward the door.
Then, instead of leaving, he closed it.
Nadia heard the lock engage.
Her heartbeat accelerated.
“You don’t understand the people involved,” he said.
“Then perhaps you should explain.”
“You think Gabriel Castellan is some generous businessman who writes checks to neighborhood schools?”
Nadia didn’t answer.
Elliot smiled without humor.
“You have no idea what his family controls.”
“I know enough to understand this isn’t a normal vendor payment.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Delete the report.”
“No.”
“Nadia.”
“No.”
Elliot stepped closer.
“I’m giving you an opportunity to walk away.”
She rose from her chair.
“And I’m telling you to unlock the door.”
He didn’t move.
For the first time in years, Nadia felt the old fear return.
The fear of being trapped inside someone else’s version of the truth.
But she’d also learned something since then.
Silence protected the wrong people.
She reached for the office phone.
Elliot caught her wrist.
Not hard enough to injure her.
Hard enough to stop her.
“Don’t make this ugly.”
A voice sounded from the doorway.
“Take your hand off her.”
Both turned.
Gabriel Castellan stood outside the partially reopened door.
Behind him were two security officers.
His face was terrifyingly calm.
Elliot released Nadia.
“Gabriel, this is a misunderstanding.”
Gabriel didn’t look at him.
He looked at Nadia.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten you?”
She took a breath.
“He tried to make me delete a report.”
Gabriel’s gaze moved to Elliot.
“What report?”
Nadia lifted the papers.
“Four hundred and twelve thousand dollars in payments to a company that doesn’t appear to exist. All approved by Mr. Bryce.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Gabriel spoke.
“Elliot. My office. Now.”
Elliot tried to smile.
“You should understand the larger situation before making accusations.”
Gabriel’s voice dropped.
“You should have understood the larger situation before putting your hands on one of my employees.”
Elliot’s face drained.
One of the security officers moved aside to let him pass.
But before leaving, Elliot looked directly at Nadia.
And whispered four words.
“You’ve made yourself visible.”
Gabriel heard him.
His expression hardened.
“Get him out.”
The officers escorted Elliot down the corridor.
Gabriel waited until they were gone.
Then he turned back to Nadia.
“You did the right thing.”
She tried to answer.
Instead, her hands began shaking.
The adrenaline had finally found somewhere to go.
Gabriel noticed.
He approached slowly.
“Nadia.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to be.”
Those five words almost undid her.
She looked up.
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
“I thought he was going to hurt me.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“He won’t touch you again.”
“How can you promise that?”
His silence lasted a moment too long.
And suddenly Nadia remembered who he was.
What people said about him.
What powerful men could do when they believed the world belonged to them.
“Gabriel,” she whispered, “what are you going to do to him?”
He looked at her carefully.
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
The admission hurt.
He seemed to understand that.
Then he said something she hadn’t expected.
“I’m going to preserve the evidence, call our outside counsel, and turn the financial records over to independent investigators.”
She searched his face.
“And Elliot?”
“He’ll answer for what he’s done.”
“Legally?”
Gabriel didn’t immediately reply.
The pause frightened her.
Finally, he nodded.
“Yes.”
She exhaled.
“Good.”
He studied her.
“You don’t approve of violence.”
“No.”
“Even when someone frightens you?”
“Especially then.”
Gabriel looked toward the hallway.
Then back at her.
“You’re asking a difficult thing of a man who hasn’t always handled problems that way.”
“I know.”
“And if I disappoint you?”
Nadia’s throat tightened.
“Then at least I’ll know who you really are.”
For the first time since they’d met, Gabriel looked genuinely shaken.
Not angry.
Not offended.
Shaken.
As though a woman standing before him with trembling hands had somehow placed a truth on the table that no powerful enemy had ever forced him to confront.
Then he nodded.
“Fair enough.”
But the danger wasn’t over.
Not even close.
The threatening message arrived at 11:17 that night.
Nadia had just reached her apartment in Lincoln Park when her phone vibrated.
The number was unfamiliar.
The message contained a photograph of her building.
Taken from across the street.
Beneath it were seven words.
You should have stayed out of this.
She stared at the screen.
Her apartment suddenly felt different.
The familiar yellow lamp.
The stack of library books beside the couch.
The little ceramic bowl holding her keys.
Everything looked normal.
Yet the normality itself seemed fragile.
She called Gabriel.
He answered on the first ring.
“Nadia?”
She didn’t bother with a greeting.
“Someone sent me a picture of my building.”
Silence.
Then his voice became very precise.
“Are you inside?”
“Yes.”
“Is the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t open it for anyone. I’m sending someone from my security team to check the property. You can call the police now, and I’ll provide the information our team has.”
Nadia closed her eyes.
“Gabriel.”
“I’m here.”
“I’m frightened.”
His next words were softer.
“I know. Stay on the phone with me.”
Twenty minutes later, a uniformed officer was taking her statement while a member of Gabriel’s security staff checked the building entrance.
The threatening number had already stopped accepting calls.
Gabriel arrived shortly afterward.
He entered the apartment without his usual entourage, dressed in dark slacks and a black sweater.
He looked around once.
Then at Nadia.
She was standing beside the kitchen counter, holding a mug she hadn’t drunk from.
“You came,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You have people for this.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because you called me.”
That answer was dangerously simple.
The officer finished his questions and left.
Gabriel stood across from her in the small kitchen.
“I’d like you to stay somewhere safer tonight.”
Nadia shook her head.
“I’m not moving into your house.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You were thinking it.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“You’re becoming alarmingly good at reading me.”
“I’ve had eight months of practice.”
“Nine.”
She blinked.
“It’s been nine months?”
“Next Tuesday.”
Her heart performed a ridiculous little movement.
Even now, he remembered.
Gabriel continued.
“There’s a hotel near the foundation with controlled access. Or I can arrange additional protection here. You decide.”
Nadia looked at him.
“You’re giving me a choice?”
“Of course.”
“Most people seem to think you don’t do that.”
“Most people don’t know me.”
She studied his face.
“Do I?”
He was quiet.
“Not completely.”
“Then tell me something true.”
His expression darkened.
“Something true?”
“Yes. Something you wouldn’t tell a reporter.”
He looked toward her living-room window.
Then he said, “My father built his power through fear. I inherited more of his world than I wanted. Some of the people who answer to me still believe his methods are the only ones that work.”
Nadia listened.
“I’ve spent fifteen years trying to separate legitimate businesses from the arrangements he left behind. Sometimes I succeeded. Sometimes I convinced myself a compromise was temporary.”
He looked directly at her.
“I haven’t always been a good man, Nadia.”
Her chest tightened.
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because I don’t want you falling in love with a story about me that isn’t true.”
The room went completely silent.
Nadia felt the words land.
Falling in love.
He hadn’t asked whether she was.
He’d spoken as though he already knew the possibility existed.
And perhaps he did.
She set down her mug.
“What if I already know you’re not perfect?”
“Knowing that and living with it are different things.”
“Then don’t ask me to ignore the difference.”
Gabriel nodded slowly.
“I won’t.”
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Nadia said, “I want to stay here tonight.”
“Then I’ll have someone outside.”
“You don’t get to keep a guard at my door forever.”
“No.”
“And I don’t want the gala canceled.”
Gabriel’s eyes sharpened.
“Nadia—”
“No. Caroline spent six months building this event. Dozens of people worked on it. Three education centers are depending on the donations. Elliot doesn’t get to destroy that.”
“Your safety matters more than a fundraiser.”
“I agree. Which is why we’re going to make it safe instead of pretending danger isn’t there.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he gave a short nod.
“Tell me your plan.”
So she did.
And Gabriel listened.
By the next afternoon, Elliot Bryce had been formally suspended.
His access to the foundation’s financial systems was revoked, and the board had authorized an independent examination of the suspicious payments.
The investigators quickly discovered that Ralston Advisory Holdings was connected to a collection of intermediary companies.
At the far end of the paper trail was a real-estate investment firm controlled by Victor Hale.
Nadia recognized the name.
Everyone in Chicago’s business circles did.
Hale was a developer with considerable political influence, several luxury properties, and a reputation for acquiring struggling companies just before they unexpectedly became more valuable.
He had also been locked in a bitter dispute with Gabriel over a riverfront redevelopment project.
Gabriel’s legal counsel, Daniel Foster, explained the discovery during a private meeting.
“Ralston received foundation funds, then routed money through consulting agreements. Some payments appear connected to people hired to obtain internal Castellan Group information.”
“Corporate espionage?” Nadia asked.
Daniel nodded.
“Among other possibilities.”
Gabriel stood beside the window.
His expression hadn’t changed since the meeting began.
“What else?” he asked.
Daniel hesitated.
“We recovered messages indicating Elliot provided Hale’s representatives with internal schedules and security layouts.”
Nadia went cold.
“The estate?”
“Yes.”
“During events?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Gabriel.
He was staring at Daniel.
“Names,” Gabriel said.
Daniel placed another document on the table.
“Several staff members were approached. We haven’t established that they cooperated. But there’s one more thing.”
He slid a photograph across the desk.
Nadia leaned forward.
It showed the interior of the foundation’s main gallery.
Gabriel’s enormous portrait hung against the far wall.
Nadia recognized the arrangement immediately.
The angle suggested someone had photographed the display during the week of preparations.
There was also a handwritten annotation.
N. Callaway — event access.
Her blood turned cold.
“They’ve been watching me?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“We don’t know for how long.”
Gabriel’s hand closed around the back of a chair.
Nadia looked up at him.
For the first time, she saw something truly frightening in his eyes.
Not rage.
Restraint.
The kind that required effort.
“Gabriel,” she said quietly.
His eyes moved to hers.
“Don’t.”
He understood immediately.
She could see that he hated understanding.
Then he released the chair.
“Daniel,” he said, “make sure every piece of this reaches the investigators.”
Daniel nodded.
After he left, Nadia remained seated.
Gabriel stood by the window.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked up.
“For what?”
“For bringing danger into your life.”
“You didn’t send that message.”
“No. But the people around me are the reason it happened.”
Nadia folded her hands.
“Then change the people around you.”
He turned.
“You think it’s that simple?”
“No.”
“Some men don’t leave my world because I ask politely.”
“Then you need a better way of running your world.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand the consequences.”
“Then explain them.”
He stared at her.
Nadia stood.
“I’m not asking you to become a different person overnight. I’m asking whether you actually want to be different from your father.”
Something flickered across Gabriel’s face.
She stepped closer.
“You told me your mother believed children deserved choices. Do you believe that, too?”
“Yes.”
“Then what about you?”
He didn’t answer.
Nadia felt an unexpected sadness.
“You’re so afraid of the man your father made you that you keep pretending you don’t have a choice.”
Gabriel looked away.
The silence that followed was painful.
Finally, he said, “You should go home.”
Nadia swallowed.
“That sounds like dismissal.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
He faced her.
“Self-preservation.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Both.”
For a moment, Nadia considered stepping closer.
She wanted to touch his face.
Wanted to tell him that the person who sat barefoot on an office floor checking donor names was just as real as the man everyone feared.
But she also understood something.
Love couldn’t become an excuse for blindness.
So she picked up her folder.
“Fine.”
Gabriel’s expression shifted.
“Nadia—”
“I’ll finish the gala. I’ll cooperate with the investigation. But I’m not going to stand here convincing you to be someone you don’t want to become.”
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning around, she said, “And for the record, Gabriel, I didn’t kiss your portrait because I thought you were dangerous.”
He said nothing.
“I kissed it because I thought you might be lonely.”
Then she left.
The gala opened Saturday evening beneath a sky heavy with snow.
By six thirty, the Castellan estate glittered with hundreds of lights.
Black SUVs rolled beneath the stone archway.
Women in evening gowns stepped onto the circular driveway while photographers captured their arrivals.
Inside, the ballroom glowed with candlelight and winter-white arrangements.
The stage had been decorated with silver branches and clusters of pale roses.
Nadia stood near the entrance wearing a deep emerald gown with a modest slit, delicate earrings, and a headset concealed beneath her dark curls.
She looked beautiful.
She also looked exhausted.
Sophie approached with two glasses of sparkling water.
“You’ve checked the centerpiece spacing four times.”
“Three.”
“Four. I counted.”
Nadia accepted a glass.
“I’m checking for inconsistencies.”
“Are those inconsistencies six-foot-three with gray eyes?”
Nadia gave her a warning look.
Sophie smiled.
“Oh, please. Everyone’s noticed.”
“Noticed what?”
“That Gabriel Castellan suddenly appears wherever you are.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“He personally inspected the linen samples yesterday.”
“He was reviewing event expenses.”
“He asked whether the ivory napkins matched your dress.”
Nadia almost choked.
“He did not.”
“He absolutely did.”
Before Nadia could respond, the ballroom doors opened.
Gabriel entered.
He wore a black tuxedo, perfectly fitted across his broad shoulders, and moved with the quiet authority that made people step aside without realizing it.
Several guests immediately approached him.
He greeted them politely.
But his gaze searched the room.
Until it found Nadia.
For one brief second, everything else seemed to disappear.
Then Gabriel excused himself and crossed toward her.
“Miss Callaway.”
“Mr. Castellan.”
Sophie looked between them.
“I suddenly remember an urgent problem with the dessert table.”
She disappeared.
Gabriel watched her leave.
“Is there a dessert problem?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Nadia raised her glass.
“Everything is running on schedule.”
“I can see that.”
“Your security team approved the revised entrances?”
“Yes.”
“And the donation processing?”
“Moved to the independent accounting desk, as you requested.”
“Excellent.”
He studied her.
“You look beautiful.”
Nadia’s breath caught.
“That’s not on the event checklist.”
“Perhaps we should add it.”
“Gabriel.”
His expression softened.
“I deserved that.”
She looked away.
There were too many things between them.
Too many questions.
But before she could speak, the ballroom microphone crackled.
The foundation’s chairwoman began welcoming guests.
Nadia stepped back.
“Showtime.”
Gabriel watched her disappear into the crowd.
And for once in his life, he found himself completely uninterested in being the most powerful man in the room.
The first hour went flawlessly.
The orchestra performed.
Dinner service began exactly on schedule.
Three scholarship recipients spoke about their goals.
One seventeen-year-old girl, Emma Brooks, stood before the audience and explained how the foundation’s technology program had allowed her to build a prototype that helped people with limited hand mobility use everyday devices.
“My mom works two jobs,” Emma said, voice trembling. “She always told me that someday I’d have choices she never had. This program made me believe her.”
Nadia watched from the side of the stage.
Her eyes filled.
Across the ballroom, Gabriel sat very still.
When Emma finished, he was the first person to stand.
The applause followed.
Nadia smiled through her tears.
For a moment, she forgot everything else.
The suspicious payments.
The threats.
The distance between herself and Gabriel.
This was why she did the work.
And it was why she refused to let Elliot Bryce ruin it.
Then her headset crackled.
“Nadia, we have a situation at the west entrance.”
She straightened.
“What kind?”
“A guest is demanding access. His invitation has been revoked.”
“Name?”
A pause.
“Victor Hale.”
Nadia looked toward Gabriel’s table.
He was already speaking quietly into his phone.
Her headset crackled again.
“He says he has information concerning the foundation’s finances. He’s threatening to go directly to the press if we refuse him entry.”
Nadia closed her eyes.
Of course.
The evening had been going too well.
“Keep him in the reception area,” she said. “No access to the ballroom. I’ll notify the event director.”
She turned.
Gabriel was standing behind her.
“I know,” he said.
Nadia’s stomach tightened.
“Is he dangerous?”
“Not in the way you think.”
“That isn’t comforting.”
“I know.”
He glanced toward the ballroom.
“Stay here.”
She folded her arms.
“Absolutely not.”
“Nadia.”
“I’m responsible for this event.”
“And I’m responsible for the guest who’s trying to disrupt it.”
She held his gaze.
“Then handle him without making three hundred people terrified.”
Gabriel looked at her.
Slowly, he nodded.
“I can do that.”
He turned toward the corridor.
Then stopped.
“Nadia?”
“Yes?”
“If something happens tonight, I want you to know—”
“Don’t.”
He looked back.
“Don’t give me a dramatic unfinished confession before walking into a confrontation. That’s terribly unfair.”
To her surprise, he smiled.
A real smile.
“Then I’ll finish it afterward.”
He walked away.
And Nadia had no idea that the next twenty minutes would determine whether there was an afterward at all.
Victor Hale had come prepared to make a scene.
He stood in the reception hall with two attorneys and a private publicist, his expression fixed into the practiced confidence of a man accustomed to purchasing cooperation.
Gabriel approached with Daniel Foster beside him.
“Victor.”
“Gabriel.”
“You weren’t invited.”
Hale smiled.
“I understand your foundation is experiencing certain financial irregularities.”
“An independent review is underway.”
“Unfortunate timing.”
“Yes.”
Hale glanced toward the ballroom.
“Imagine how your donors would feel if they knew the Castellan Foundation had been funneling money through shell companies.”
“They deserve an accurate accounting of what happened.”
Hale’s smile faltered.
Gabriel continued.
“Which they’ll receive.”
For a moment, Hale looked genuinely surprised.
“You’d publicly admit it?”
“If the foundation’s money was stolen, yes.”
“That could destroy your reputation.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Then it was built on something too fragile.”
Hale’s expression hardened.
“You’ve changed.”
“I’m trying.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Mr. Hale, the investigators have already received the financial records and related communications. If you have relevant information, you should provide it through your attorney.”
Hale glanced between them.
For the first time, he seemed uncertain.
Then he leaned closer to Gabriel.
“Your father would’ve handled this differently.”
Gabriel didn’t flinch.
“Yes,” he said. “He would have.”
A silence followed.
“And that’s why I’m not going to.”
Hale stared at him.
Then turned toward the exit.
His attorneys followed.
No shouting.
No confrontation.
No blood.
Just an angry man discovering that he no longer controlled the terms of the conversation.
Gabriel stood motionless until the doors closed.
Daniel exhaled.
“Well.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“What?”
“I think your mother would’ve been proud.”
For a long moment, Gabriel said nothing.
Then he quietly replied, “I hope so.”
By eleven forty-five, the final guests had departed.
The foundation had raised nearly three and a half million dollars, including several major commitments made after Emma’s speech.
The evening had succeeded.
Nadia should have felt triumphant.
Instead, she felt hollow.
She stood alone in the portrait gallery, holding her heels in one hand.
The enormous photograph was gone.
The display wall was empty.
She looked at the spot where she’d made the most embarrassing mistake of her adult life.
It seemed impossibly long ago.
“Looking for something?”
She turned.
Gabriel stood in the doorway.
His bow tie was undone.
His jacket hung over one arm.
He looked tired.
Human.
Beautiful.
“Your portrait,” she said.
“Disappointed?”
“Deeply.”
He approached.
“The photographer insists the lighting was excellent.”
Nadia laughed despite herself.
“Don’t start.”
“I was considering commissioning a second portrait.”
“Why?”
“A smaller version. For your office.”
She covered her face.
“Please stop talking.”
Gabriel smiled.
Then his expression grew serious.
“Nadia.”
She lowered her hands.
“Yes?”
“I owe you an apology.”
Her heart tightened.
“For what?”
“For asking you to leave yesterday. For making you feel that speaking honestly to me was something you’d be punished for.”
She studied him.
“Did you understand what I was trying to say?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
He took a breath.
“I’ve spent most of my adult life believing that keeping control meant never admitting uncertainty.”
“That’s a lonely way to live.”
“It is.”
His eyes held hers.
“And I’ve been lonely for a very long time.”
Nadia felt tears gather.
Gabriel looked toward the empty wall.
“When my mother died, I thought the only way to protect what she’d built was to become the sort of man nobody would challenge.”
He paused.
“I’ve spent years confusing fear with respect.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m beginning to understand the difference.”
Nadia stepped closer.
“What happened with Hale?”
“He left.”
“Just left?”
“Yes.”
“No dramatic confrontation?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
She laughed softly.
“You have no idea how relieved I am.”
Gabriel looked down at her.
“There’s something else.”
Her heartbeat accelerated.
“The foundation will establish an independent board and financial controls. I’ve asked Daniel to begin separating the remaining private family arrangements from the businesses that can operate openly and lawfully.”
“That sounds complicated.”
“It will be.”
“And dangerous?”
“Possibly.”
Nadia’s smile faded.
“Gabriel.”
He lifted a hand.
“I’m not asking you to enter that world. I’m telling you what I’ve decided.”
“Why?”
“Because for the first time in years, I can imagine a future that isn’t built around defending the past.”
The words settled between them.
Then he said quietly, “And because I’d like to have something worth coming home to.”
Nadia stopped breathing.
Gabriel moved a step closer.
“But before I say anything else, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
She considered lying.
Instead, she shook her head slowly.
“Sometimes I’m afraid of what you could become.”
He absorbed that.
“That’s fair.”
“But I’m not afraid of the man standing here.”
His expression changed.
The coldness fell away.
And she saw something vulnerable beneath it.
“Then may I kiss you?”
Nadia’s eyes filled.
“Oh, Gabriel.”
“Is that a yes?”
She laughed through her tears.
“Yes.”
He lifted one hand to her cheek.
And kissed her.
It wasn’t tentative.
But it wasn’t possessive, either.
It was the kiss of a man who had spent years denying himself tenderness and a woman who had spent years believing trust was too dangerous to offer again.
When they finally separated, Nadia’s forehead rested against his.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel murmured, “Better than the portrait?”
Nadia laughed.
“Marginally.”
“Marginally?”
“Your photograph was remarkably cooperative.”
He kissed her again.
She smiled against his mouth.
“Fine,” she whispered. “Considerably better.”
Gabriel rested his forehead against hers.
“Good.”
And for one beautiful, impossible moment, Nadia believed the hardest part was over.
She was wrong.
Because falling in love with Gabriel Castellan was only the beginning.
Loving him without losing herself would prove to be the real test.
Three weeks after the gala, Nadia received an envelope containing photographs of herself.
One showed her leaving the foundation.
Another showed her standing outside a coffee shop with Sophie.
The third showed Gabriel kissing her in the gallery.
Her stomach dropped.
On the back of the final photograph, someone had written:
He’ll always choose his empire over you.
Nadia stared at the words.
Then she did something her younger self would never have dared.
She called Gabriel.
And told him everything.
He arrived at her apartment with Daniel an hour later.
Nadia placed the photographs on the dining table.
“I’m tired of being frightened,” she said.
Gabriel studied them.
His expression hardened.
Daniel examined the envelope.
“We’ll give these to the investigator handling the threats.”
Gabriel looked up.
“Nadia, until we understand who’s behind this, I think you should consider temporary protection again.”
She nodded.
“I agree.”
He blinked.
“You do?”
“I’m not reckless. But I want something understood.”
“Tell me.”
“I won’t give up my job. I won’t hide in your house indefinitely. And I won’t allow whoever’s doing this to decide what happens to my life.”
Gabriel watched her.
Then he said, “I wouldn’t ask you to.”
She smiled faintly.
“Good. Because I’d hate to have to argue with you before breakfast.”
Daniel looked between them.
“I see this relationship is going exceptionally well.”
Neither answered.
But Gabriel’s mouth twitched.
The photographs became important evidence.
Investigators traced the threatening messages and surveillance to a private contractor retained through one of Hale’s associated businesses.
Elliot Bryce had supplied information about Nadia before his suspension.
The financial investigation expanded.
Board members testified.
Bank records were examined.
And over the following months, several people connected to the scheme faced fraud, intimidation, and related charges.
Hale denied knowing about the threats.
But his reputation deteriorated as the evidence became public, and his companies came under scrutiny.
The Castellan Foundation also faced difficult questions.
Donors demanded transparency.
Reporters questioned the organization’s oversight.
Gabriel held a press conference.
Nadia watched it from her office.
Standing at the podium, Gabriel looked exactly as he had in the portrait.
Severe.
Composed.
Almost frighteningly handsome.
But the words were different.
“We failed to identify serious weaknesses in our financial controls,” he said. “That responsibility belongs to the leadership of this foundation, including me. We are cooperating fully with investigators, replacing compromised procedures, and commissioning an independent audit whose findings will be available to our donors.”
A reporter raised her hand.
“Mr. Castellan, are you concerned about the damage to your family’s name?”
Gabriel paused.
Then answered, “I’m more concerned about the damage to the people who trusted us.”
Nadia sat very still.
She knew how difficult that answer had been for him.
It wasn’t perfect.
It didn’t erase his past.
But it was real.
And perhaps real change was supposed to look less like a dramatic transformation and more like a hundred uncomfortable decisions made differently.
By spring, Nadia had begun preparing to leave the foundation.
She wanted to start Callaway Events, the business she’d dreamed of owning for years.
She had registered the name, developed a business plan, and saved enough to rent a modest office.
But when she told Gabriel, he became unexpectedly quiet.
They were having dinner at a small Italian restaurant in the West Loop.
She’d chosen it deliberately.
No private dining room.
No security convoy visible outside.
Just pasta, candlelight, and a table beside the window.
“I’ve given Caroline my notice,” Nadia said.
Gabriel set down his fork.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.”
His gaze lowered.
“Are you leaving because of us?”
“No.”
“Because of the threats?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
She smiled.
“Because I have a dream, Gabriel. Remember?”
He looked at her.
“Callaway Events.”
“Yes.”
“I remember.”
“Then why do you look like I’ve announced I’m moving to another planet?”
He leaned back.
“Because I’ve grown accustomed to knowing you’ll be at the foundation.”
She softened.
“That’s sweet.”
“I wasn’t trying to be sweet.”
“Terrible news. You succeeded.”
He almost smiled.
Then he said, “I could help with the business.”
Nadia immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard my offer.”
“I know what it would be.”
“An investment.”
“Exactly.”
“On favorable terms.”
“Gabriel.”
He sighed.
“You’re very stubborn.”
“I’m wonderfully stubborn.”
“I could arrange financing.”
“I have financing.”
“I know people who need events organized.”
“I know people, too.”
He studied her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Understood.”
She blinked.
“That’s it?”
“What were you expecting?”
“A lengthy debate involving corporate leverage and your terrifying ability to negotiate.”
“I’ve learned something.”
“What?”
“That if I want to remain invited to your apartment, I should respect the word no.”
Nadia laughed so hard the couple at the next table looked over.
Gabriel watched her.
And his entire expression softened.
She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
He reached across the table and took her hand.
“I like seeing you happy.”
Her laughter faded.
The restaurant seemed to become quieter.
“You’re getting dangerously good at this,” she whispered.
“At what?”
“Being someone I could love.”
Gabriel’s hand tightened gently around hers.
He looked at her with an intensity that made her chest ache.
“Nadia.”
“Yes?”
“I think I’ve been in love with you since the first time you told one of my senior managers that his budget proposal was nonsense.”
She stared at him.
“That was my second week.”
“I know.”
“You barely spoke to me.”
“I was trying not to.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew I’d have to earn the right to.”
Nadia felt tears gather.
“That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Gabriel considered that.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I should write it down.”
She laughed.
And then, for the first time, she said the words she’d been carrying for months.
“I love you, Gabriel.”
He went perfectly still.
She saw the exact moment they reached him.
The man who could face angry investors, threatening rivals, and rooms full of hostile strangers without flinching suddenly looked uncertain.
Almost afraid.
Then he stood, moved around the table, and crouched beside her chair.
“Nadia,” he whispered, taking both her hands, “I love you, too.”
She touched his cheek.
“You’re making a scene.”
“I know.”
“People are staring.”
“Let them.”
He kissed her.
And somewhere behind them, a woman sighed audibly.
Nadia laughed against his lips.
For once, Gabriel Castellan didn’t care who was watching.
Callaway Events opened in June.
The office occupied the second floor of a renovated brick building near the Chicago River.
There were two desks, a conference table Nadia had bought secondhand, and a framed photograph of her mother standing in front of the school library where she’d worked for twenty-six years.
The business struggled at first.
A corporate client canceled a major contract.
A wedding venue suffered a plumbing disaster.
Nadia spent one memorable night making emergency place cards on her living-room floor while Gabriel quietly assembled fifty favor boxes beside her.
She looked over at him.
“Do you know what your associates would say if they saw this?”
He carefully tied another satin ribbon.
“Probably nothing.”
“Because they’d be too frightened?”
“Because these bows are excellent.”
She laughed.
But there were difficult moments, too.
Gabriel still worked long hours untangling the remaining connections between his legal businesses and the old Castellan organization.
Some relationships couldn’t be ended with a conversation.
Some required lawyers, settlements, and uncomfortable disclosures.
He had to acknowledge decisions he’d once justified as necessary.
And Nadia occasionally discovered that loving someone didn’t make their habits disappear.
One evening, Gabriel canceled dinner for the third time in two weeks.
Nadia waited until he called.
Then she answered calmly.
“Gabriel, we need to talk.”
He immediately knew something was wrong.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened. That’s the problem.”
Silence.
“You keep telling me you’re building a life with me,” she continued. “But you can’t build a life with someone who only gets the hours nobody else wants.”
He exhaled.
“I’ve been dealing with a difficult situation.”
“I understand.”
“Then—”
“But understanding doesn’t mean accepting everything.”
He didn’t interrupt.
Nadia looked out her apartment window.
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want your name. I don’t even need your protection every time something goes wrong. I want a man who shows up when he says he will.”
The silence stretched.
Then Gabriel spoke quietly.
“You’re right.”
She closed her eyes.
“I wish that made this easier.”
“It should have been easier before you had to ask.”
Something in her chest loosened.
He continued.
“I can’t promise I’ll never disappoint you. But I can promise I won’t treat your time as less important than mine.”
Nadia swallowed.
“That’s all I’m asking.”
And he began proving it.
He delegated responsibilities.
He stopped treating every problem as one only he could solve.
He attended counseling to confront the habits he’d inherited from his father and the losses he’d never properly grieved.
He learned to apologize without first explaining why he’d behaved badly.
And Nadia learned that accepting love didn’t mean surrendering independence.
She let him bring dinner when she was exhausted.
Let him hold her when she cried over a failed contract.
Let him celebrate her victories without worrying that his pride somehow diminished hers.
Their relationship wasn’t a fairy tale.
It involved schedules, misunderstandings, disagreements, and two stubborn adults learning to make room for each other.
But it was the first relationship Nadia had ever known in which disagreement didn’t automatically mean danger.
And it was the first time Gabriel had understood that being loved wasn’t the same as being obeyed.
One year after the gala, Callaway Events received the largest contract in its short history.
The Castellan Foundation wanted Nadia’s company to organize its annual winter fundraiser.
The contract had gone through a competitive selection process overseen by the independent board.
Nadia had submitted a proposal alongside several well-established firms.
She won.
On merit.
When Sophie called to tell her, Nadia screamed loudly enough to frighten the receptionist.
That evening, Gabriel invited her to the estate.
“Business meeting?” she asked over the phone.
“Something like that.”
“Should I bring my laptop?”
“No.”
“Floor plans?”
“No.”
“A clipboard?”
A pause.
“Absolutely not.”
She laughed.
“Now I’m suspicious.”
“You should be.”
The estate looked different when Nadia arrived.
The same stone facade.
The same long driveway.
The same broad windows overlooking the landscaped grounds.
But the constant feeling of tension had eased.
There were fewer men standing in dark corners.
More staff members spoke freely.
The foundation’s offices had been reorganized, and Gabriel no longer operated the family businesses from the estate.
It had taken him time to make those changes.
There had been setbacks.
Old associates had protested.
Several business arrangements had been dissolved at considerable financial cost.
Yet Gabriel persisted.
His companies were smaller now.
Their finances were easier to examine.
And for the first time, he seemed willing to measure success by something other than how much control he possessed.
Nadia found him waiting outside the private gallery.
He wore a navy suit, his dark hair slightly untidy, his expression suspiciously neutral.
She approached.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“That is the least convincing answer you’ve ever given me.”
“Come inside.”
He opened the door.
Nadia stepped through.
And stopped.
The portrait was back.
Eight feet tall.
Black frame.
Charcoal suit.
Cold gray eyes.
Exactly where it had been on the night she kissed it.
Nadia stared.
Then she turned slowly toward Gabriel.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“You brought it back?”
“The foundation uses it for historical displays.”
“It hasn’t been displayed in a year.”
“We rotate our exhibits.”
“You are lying.”
“Very poorly, apparently.”
She pressed a hand against her mouth.
A laugh escaped.
“Oh, my God.”
Gabriel stood beside her.
For a few seconds, they looked at the photograph together.
Then Nadia shook her head.
“I cannot believe I kissed that thing.”
“Neither can I.”
“It was a moment of temporary insanity.”
“An important moment.”
“An embarrassing moment.”
“A memorable moment.”
She turned toward him.
“You’ve been saving this joke for a year, haven’t you?”
“Almost.”
She groaned.
“Gabriel.”
He smiled.
That full, beautiful smile she once believed belonged only to rumors.
And she felt the familiar warmth spread through her chest.
The portrait showed a man who looked untouchable.
The man standing beside her had learned to be touched.
To be questioned.
To be vulnerable.
To apologize.
To love.
And she knew how much courage that had required.
“Actually,” she said softly, “I think the portrait is terrible.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
“Terrible?”
“Completely inaccurate.”
“It’s won awards.”
“It looks like someone who hasn’t smiled in twenty years.”
“That was the intention.”
“I know.”
She stepped closer.
“But I know the real man.”
His expression softened.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She touched his cheek.
“He’s stubborn. Complicated. Occasionally impossible.”
“Occasionally?”
“He burns toast.”
“I’ve improved.”
“He pretends not to care about romantic comedies.”
“They’re structurally predictable.”
“He cries when the dog dies.”
Gabriel frowned.
“The dog was a central character.”
Nadia laughed.
Then her voice softened.
“And he’s the first man who ever made me feel that I could be loved without becoming smaller.”
Gabriel went very still.
She looked into his eyes.
“I love you.”
He reached for her hand.
“I love you, too.”
Then he did something unexpected.
He stepped backward.
Nadia frowned.
“Gabriel?”
He reached into his jacket.
Her breath caught.
When he removed a small velvet box, the world seemed to narrow around them.
Gabriel opened it.
Inside was a beautiful diamond ring.
Elegant.
Simple.
Exactly her taste.
Nadia stared at it.
Then at him.
“Oh.”
His expression was calm, but she noticed his hand trembling slightly.
That nearly broke her heart.
This was a man who could look powerful rivals in the eye without visible fear.
But asking one woman to choose him made his hand shake.
“Nadia Callaway,” he began, “I spent most of my life believing love was something people used against you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I watched my father confuse possession with devotion. I watched people promise loyalty because they feared what would happen if they refused.”
He swallowed.
“Then I met a woman who wasn’t impressed by my power.”
Nadia laughed wetly.
“I was a little impressed.”
“Not enough to stop criticizing my budget.”
“It was a terrible budget.”
“It was.”
He smiled.
“You saw parts of me I’d spent years hiding. But you also refused to ignore the parts that needed to change.”
He took a breath.
“You didn’t save me, Nadia. You made me want to take responsibility for saving myself.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Gabriel continued.
“You have your own dreams. Your own work. Your own life. I don’t want to take any of that away.”
He lowered himself onto one knee.
Nadia covered her mouth.
“I want to stand beside you while you build it.”
His voice softened.
“I can’t promise perfection. I can’t promise every day will be easy. But I can promise honesty, respect, and the kind of love that chooses you even when life becomes difficult.”
He looked up at her.
“Will you marry me?”
Nadia was crying openly now.
She tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Gabriel’s expression changed.
For one terrible second, he looked almost terrified.
“Nadia?”
She laughed through her tears.
“Yes.”
He blinked.
“Yes?”
“Yes, you impossible man!”
He rose so quickly she laughed again.
Then he slipped the ring onto her finger.
It fit perfectly.
Nadia looked at it.
Then at Gabriel.
Then, inevitably, at the portrait.
“Just so you know,” she whispered, “this is a significantly better experience than kissing your photograph.”
Gabriel pulled her into his arms.
“That’s a low bar.”
She burst into laughter.
And he kissed her beneath the chandelier where everything had begun.
They married the following October.
Not in a cathedral filled with strangers.
Not in a ballroom crowded with business associates.
And certainly not in front of reporters.
They married in the garden of the Castellan estate beneath a canopy of white roses and autumn leaves.
Sixty guests attended.
Sophie cried before the ceremony even started.
Emma Brooks, now studying engineering on a full scholarship, helped welcome guests.
Michael, the young coordinator Gabriel had defended years earlier, managed the event schedule.
And Nadia’s mother walked her down the aisle.
When Gabriel saw Nadia appear in her ivory wedding gown, his composure finally deserted him.
His eyes filled.
Nadia noticed immediately.
She smiled.
Then whispered when she reached him, “Careful. You’re damaging your reputation.”
Gabriel took her hands.
“Let it burn.”
The ceremony was simple.
Their vows were honest.
They promised not merely to love each other but to keep listening, keep choosing, and keep telling the truth when silence would be easier.
When the officiant announced they were married, Gabriel kissed Nadia as though the entire world had finally become quiet.
And for a little while, it had.
Six months later, Nadia stood in the gallery again.
The estate was hosting a smaller fundraising exhibition for local arts programs.
Callaway Events had organized it.
The company now employed six people.
Nadia had turned down two large contracts that didn’t suit her values and won three she once wouldn’t have dared pursue.
She was exhausted.
Happy.
And very much herself.
Gabriel found her standing before the old portrait, holding a glass of sparkling water.
He approached from behind.
“Thinking about kissing it again?”
She smiled without turning.
“I was considering it.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“Possibly.”
He stepped beside her.
She looked from the photograph to her husband.
The difference was almost funny.
In the picture, Gabriel seemed carved from ice.
Beside her stood a man who’d forgotten to shave that morning, had flour on his cuff from helping prepare breakfast, and was carrying a small paper bag from her favorite bakery.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Your cinnamon roll.”
“You remembered?”
“You said you wanted one.”
“That was yesterday.”
“I remember most things about you.”
Nadia took the bag.
Then leaned against him.
For a while, they stood together in silence.
“Do you ever regret it?” she asked.
Gabriel looked down.
“Regret what?”
“Changing everything.”
He considered the question.
“I regret that I waited so long.”
She nodded.
“Some changes take time.”
“Yes.”
“Some things can’t be undone.”
“I know.”
She turned toward him.
“But we get to decide what we do next.”
Gabriel kissed her forehead.
“We do.”
Nadia looked at the portrait one last time.
She remembered the woman she’d been when she first entered that gallery.
A woman terrified of making mistakes.
A woman who believed love meant surrendering control.
A woman who had spent years rebuilding her life and worried that opening her heart would make everything collapse again.
That woman had kissed a photograph because it felt safer than admitting she wanted the real man.
She hadn’t known what would follow.
The fear.
The danger.
The arguments.
The difficult truths.
The courage required to love someone without abandoning herself.
But she knew something now that she hadn’t known then.
Real love didn’t ask a person to overlook everything that was wrong.
It gave two people the courage to face those things honestly.
Nadia turned toward Gabriel.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Another one?”
“Yes.”
“I’m listening.”
She moved closer.
“The night I kissed your portrait, I was actually about to quit.”
His smile faded.
“What?”
“I’d received an offer from an event company in Boston. Better salary. Better benefits. A fresh start.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“You never told me.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
Nadia looked toward the portrait.
“Because you made me laugh.”
He seemed genuinely confused.
She smiled.
“I’d spent two years feeling like my life was one long emergency. That night, I did something ridiculous, and instead of humiliating me, you made me laugh at myself.”
Her eyes softened.
“For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe my life could surprise me in a good way.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Then he reached for her hand.
“Nadia.”
“Yes?”
“I have a secret, too.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“That night, I had just finished a meeting with my attorneys.”
“About what?”
“Restructuring the family businesses. Ending certain arrangements. Making decisions I’d been postponing for years.”
She listened.
“I was exhausted. Angry. Convinced nothing would ever really change.”
His mouth curved.
“Then I walked into my gallery and found a beautiful woman kissing my photograph.”
Nadia laughed.
“And?”
“And I thought…”
He paused.
She nudged him.
“What?”
“That perhaps the world wasn’t finished surprising me, either.”
Her smile trembled.
Gabriel drew her closer.
“You changed the direction of my life.”
Nadia shook her head gently.
“No. You changed it. I just happened to be standing near a very expensive photograph when you decided to begin.”
Gabriel laughed.
Then kissed her.
And this time, there were no secrets.
No fear of being caught.
No distance between a dangerous reputation and the complicated, imperfect man beneath it.
Only a husband and wife standing in the place where their story had begun.
A story that had started with the smallest, silliest act of courage.
And ended with something far greater than either of them had dared imagine.
Not a perfect life.
Not a perfect man.
But a love in which both of them were finally free to be real.
As they turned to leave, Gabriel glanced toward the portrait.
“Should I have it taken down?”
Nadia considered.
Then smiled wickedly.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because someday, when we’re old and gray, I’m going to tell our grandchildren exactly how I met you.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“Please don’t.”
“Oh, I’m telling them everything.”
“Nadia.”
“The kiss. The clipboard. The lighting inspection.”
“Mercy.”
“And especially what you said.”
He sighed.
She leaned up and whispered against his ear.
“That’s a low bar.”
Gabriel shook his head.
Then laughed.
A full, unguarded laugh that echoed through the gallery.
And Nadia decided that no portrait in the world could ever capture the man she’d fallen in love with.
Because the most beautiful part of Gabriel Castellan had never been his face.
It was the person he’d found the courage to become.
THE END
