Chapter 27-Gabriel's pov(part 1)

I'd grown accustomed to the darkness that surrounds me. As the son of Leonard, a powerful mafia don, I'd learned to navigate the treacherous world of organized crime. But it wasn't always this way.

I remembered that the day my mother died like it was yesterday. I was only seven years old, and my world was shattered. My father, Leonard, was never the same after that. He became colder, more ruthless, and I became the target of his anger.

But there was one person who showed me kindness, who treated me like a son - Wu, my father's right-hand man. Wu was the only one who could calm my father's rage, the only one who made me feel safe.

I recalled the day I followed Wu to Cedar Creek like it was yesterday. I watched as he handled a business deal with his usual calm precision. We were on our way back when I spotted a girl who was dressed in tattered clothes. That's when I saw her - a frail, determined girl begging for cash. I ignored her until she approached Wu, her eyes wide with innocence.

She came up to Wu and he handed her a note bill, and she smiled. It was a radiant smile, one that lit up her entire face. In that moment, something shifted inside me. I felt a spark of curiosity, of interest, that I'd never experienced before.

As the days passed, I couldn't shake off the memory of that girl's smile. It was as if it had seared itself into my brain, refusing to be forgotten. I found myself wondering about her, about what her life was like, and what had brought her to that street corner.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I returned to Cedar Creek the following week. This time, I was accompanied by a bodyguard, a towering figure who watched my back with an unyielding gaze.

As we approached the street corner, I spotted her again, her eyes scanning the crowds with a mix of desperation and determination. I instructed my bodyguard to hand her a bill, watching as she took it with a hesitant smile.

That smile was all I needed to see. It was like a ray of sunshine had broken through the darkness, illuminating everything around me. I felt a pang in my chest, a sensation I couldn't quite explain. All I knew was that I wanted to see more of that smile, to be the one who brought it to her face.

As the weeks turned into months, I found myself returning to that street corner again and again. It wasn't just about seeing her smile; it was about escaping the horrors that awaited me at home. My father's cruelty, the endless criticism, and the suffocating pressure to conform to his expectations - it all receded into the background when I was with her.

At first, I didn't understand why she was forced to beg and steal. But as I watched her, as I saw the desperation in her eyes, I began to realize the truth, through a little bit of stalking. Her parents, like mine, saw her as a nuisance, a burden to be discarded. They starved her, body and soul, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that seemed determined to crush her.

My heart went out to her, this fragile, fierce girl who refused to give up. I saw myself in her, saw the same desperation, the same hunger for connection and love. And I knew, in that moment, that I would do anything to help her.

I began to secretly leave meals for her, carefully packaged and placed on top of the restaurant's dumpster where she scavenged for food. It was a small act of kindness, but I hoped it would bring some comfort to her difficult life.

At first, I worried she might be suspicious of the sudden appearance of these meals. But as the days passed, I observed her finding and devouring the food without hesitation. It was as if she had grown accustomed to this small miracle, this mysterious benefactor who seemed to know exactly where to find her.

I found myself looking forward to these moments, watching from afar as she unwrapped the containers and savored each bite. Her eyes would light up with gratitude, and for a fleeting instant, her hardships seemed to fade away.

This quiet connection we shared sparked something within me. I felt a sense of purpose, of responsibility, that I had never experienced before. And I knew I had to continue helping her, no matter the cost.

As time passed, I continued to watch over her, ensuring she stayed safe. But when she got caught attempting to steal, I knew I had to act quickly. I sent Pete to handle the situation, and she managed to escape.

I began to pay off the people she stole from, silencing them with money. It was fascinating to see her grow more confident with each successful heist. Her pride was palpable, and I found myself beaming with pride too.

Months went by, and her skills improved dramatically. She became a master thief, swiping valuables from pockets without anyone noticing. I was impressed, and my admiration for her grew.

But my father's attention eventually turned to my truancy. I had constantly skipped school and lectures on how to run my father's business, and he'd barely noticed. I'd become his personal punching bag, absorbing his verbal abuse and physical blows. Yet, when he discovered my absence, he was furious.

My father's eyes narrowed as he confronted me. "I've received reports that you've been stabbing cram school and barely attending the training sessions to take over the family business," he growled.

"Stop wasting your time with this nonsense," he barked, his eyes blazing with anger.

I met his gaze, my expression neutral. I knew I was walking a thin line, but I couldn't bring myself to care. For the first time in nearly two years, since my mother's passing I'd found something that brought me joy, something that made me feel alive. And I wasn't about to give it up, not even for my father.

"Is this what you've been doing with your time?" he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Wasting your potential on some street urchin?"

I felt a spark of anger ignite within me, but I pushed it down. I knew better than to cross my father, not when he was in a mood like this. So I stood there, silently, as he raged on.

"You will not meet with her again, if you care for her life, boy," he threatened, his eyes glinting with malice.

Fear gripped my heart. I swallowed hard, weighing my options. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her. So I made a calculated decision - I would propose a deal to my father.

"I'll take the family business seriously," I said, meeting his gaze. "I'll attend the training sessions, learn everything I need to know. I'll be the son you want me to be."

My father raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And in return?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

I took a deep breath. "You let me continue to watch over her. From a distance, if that's what you want. But you don't harm her. You don't touch her."

My father's expression was unreadable, but I could sense the wheels turning in his mind. After a moment, he nodded.

"Very well," he said. "I accept your proposal. You'll take the family business seriously, and I'll allow you to continue watching over...her. But remember, boy, I'm always watching. If you betray me, the deal is off. And she'll be the first to suffer."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I had made a deal with my father, and I knew I had to uphold my end of the bargain.