Chapter 7 - The Man Who Survived Arthur’s Bullet
Gabriel stayed after the arrests.
Arthur avoided him for two days.
Norah noticed.
Of course.
On the third morning, she found Arthur in the courtyard staring at Gabriel through the glass.
“You should talk to him.”
“No.”
“He survived being shot by you.”
“I noticed.”
“Maybe give him five minutes.”
Arthur looked at her.
“You enjoy suffering.”
“Only productive suffering.”
Eventually, Arthur joined Gabriel outside.
Norah did not follow.
Some conversations did not need witnesses.
Gabriel sat near the fountain.
Arthur stood.
Then reconsidered and sat opposite him.
For nearly a minute, neither spoke.
Finally:
“I’m sorry.”
Gabriel looked toward the water.
“You already said that.”
“I know.”
“Doesn’t repair my shoulder.”
“No.”
“Or the last four years.”
“No.”
“Or my marriage.”
Arthur’s face tightened.
Gabriel’s wife had believed him dead for eleven months before he secretly contacted her.
Protecting her had cost them almost everything.
Arthur said:
“What do you want from me?”
Gabriel laughed bitterly.
“Nothing.”
Arthur seemed surprised.
“That’s the problem with men like you.”
“What?”
“You think every debt has a transaction.”
Arthur looked away.
Gabriel continued.
“I wanted you to know I didn’t steal from you.”
“I wanted Luca’s death exposed.”
“I wanted Raffaele stopped.”
“That’s happening.”
“What I do not want is to become the man who forgives you because your conscience finally woke up.”
Arthur nodded.
“That’s fair.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“You’ve changed.”
“I’m trying.”
“Norah?”
Arthur’s mouth tightened.
“She didn’t change me.”
“Good answer.”
“She made it impossible to pretend I didn’t know what I was becoming.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Better.”
Then:
“Do you love her?”
Arthur did not answer quickly.
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because right now I am her employer, her creditor, the reason dangerous people know her name, and possibly going to prison.”
Gabriel stared.
“That is disturbingly responsible.”
“Don’t spread it around.”
They both laughed.
The first time in years.
Then Gabriel said:
“Your father would hate you now.”
Arthur smiled faintly.
“I’m beginning to take that as a compliment.”
The federal case moved fast.
Raffaele’s records opened everything.
Luca’s murder.
Gabriel’s framing.
Drug routes.
Political payments.
Arthur’s own crimes.
He admitted extortion.
Money laundering.
Illegal collections.
Assault conspiracies.
He did not pretend the family’s evil belonged only to the older generation.
The prosecutor offered twenty-six months.
Arthur accepted.
Norah learned from Samuel.
Not Arthur.
She stormed into his study.
“You signed already?”
Arthur looked up.
“Yes.”
“You were going to tell me when?”
“Tonight.”
“You always say tonight when you mean after the decision.”
He closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
She pointed at him.
“You do not get to keep calling choices ‘protection’ when the person being protected never gets a voice.”
“This was my plea.”
“Yes.”
“My sentence.”
“Yes.”
“My choice.”
“Yes.”
“And telling me beforehand would not have changed it.”
“No.”
“Then why are you angry?”
Norah stopped.
Good question.
Because it hurt.
Because the house without him already felt different in her imagination.
Because she had spent months insisting she was free to leave and had not realized that freedom also meant someone else could go.
“I wanted time.”
Arthur’s expression changed.
“With what?”
“With you.”
Silence.
Norah hated herself slightly.
Then Arthur stood.
He stopped several feet away.
“Norah.”
“What?”
“I love you.”
Her eyes filled.
Terrible timing.
“Idiot.”
“Yes.”
“You wait until you’re going to prison?”
“Yes.”
“You’re genuinely terrible at this.”
“I have limited experience.”
She laughed through tears.
Arthur did not move closer.
“Do you want me to say something?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I don’t know what I’m saying yet.”
“Good.”
She looked at him.
Then:
“Kiss me.”
Arthur froze.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He crossed the space slowly.
One hand touched her cheek.
Nothing more.
Then he kissed her.
Gentle.
Almost careful enough to break her heart.
When they separated, Norah whispered:
“This doesn’t mean I’m waiting twenty-six months.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“I could meet a dentist.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“A dentist?”
“Stable profession.”
“No gunmen.”
“Good benefits.”
“This hypothetical man is already annoying me.”
Norah smiled.
“Then come back worth choosing.”
May you like
Arthur’s expression softened.
“I’ll try.”
