I stopped resisting.
I no longer screamed.
I remained still, held in his arms, watching the darkness swallow everything... except his soft, masculine hum, like his heavy breathing, vibrating on my face like secret music that no one else could hear.
Despite my racing heart, this time it wasn't from fear... but something else.
Something warm... confusing... I had no name for it.
Finally, I whispered cautiously, "What are you doing...?"
But, as usual, he didn't answer properly. Gabriel always chose his words from a different dictionary. His words didn't resemble questions, nor did they resemble answers... they resembled him.
"Let me confess something..." he said in a low voice, slowly drifting into my ear, "The dress suits you better than I imagined Ramsay would."
Although I couldn't see it clearly, I smiled.
In the darkness, I could barely make out his features, but I felt his hot breath close to my face, igniting something inexplicable inside me.
I said lightly, lowering my head slightly, "Your taste is beautiful..."
He leaned closer and replied in a voice that was almost a whisper: "It looks good on you."
And there he was...
Once again, making me smile...
It was as if his presence alone knew the way to my shyness and knew how to ignite it.
Unfortunately, I had to cut short this warm moment… and finally, in a low voice, trying to maintain my seriousness, I spoke:
"Harry's at the table... you know that?"
He leaned closer and whispered his sentence, as if planting it on my skin:
"That's why I brought you in front of my body like this."
I couldn't hide my smile. I tried to look shocked… but my face failed me.
"What...?" I muttered in feigned surprise.
His voice lowered, his tone sharpened, a firm tone I wasn't used to from him:
"I want you to be a good girl for Daddy, understand? And do exactly what he tells you."
My smile faded immediately.
The tenderness that had enveloped me moments before… suddenly disappeared, replaced by a heavy shadow of warning.
"What do you have?" I asked gently, even as I was trying to understand what was going on.
He leaned closer and said in a clear, unmistakable tone, "Avoid looking at Harry. Avoid talking to him. Avoid anything that might connect you to him or bring you into contact."
I frowned. I knew he could see me even in the dark, and I knew my face was now boiling with surprise.
"What...? Why am I at the table then if I'm not allowed to speak?"
He sighed, took a deep breath, and then said, his voice sounding like a threat... or a painful promise:
"Raquela..."
My breath caught when he said my name like that.
"You don't want to be locked in a dark room, with vermin, strapped to a narrow chair... do you?"
At that point, I was truly unintelligible. Or maybe I just refused to believe I was in the middle of a game whose rules I didn't understand.
I looked at him stubbornly and asked in a low voice, with a strange tremor:
"This... if you tell me. Why? And what's going on here? What's wrong with you, you and Harry?"
He smiled slowly. A mysterious smile, more filled with silence than words:
"Trust me... you'll know everything. But for now, just be a good girl for me... for once. Do as I ask."
He finished, then leaned slightly... sending his hot breath past my face, as if he were leaving me at that moment, leaving the darkness that had united us.
But I didn't let him.
I reached out lightly and grasped his arm.
My hand was tiny... just a tiny shadow along his broad forearm. I wasn't strong enough to pull him away, but he stopped immediately, as if he'd sensed my call before I'd spoken.
He turned slowly to me. He moved closer, until the darkness between us almost melted from the heat of his gaze.
"Um...?" he muttered in an almost eager tone, as if he knew what I was going to say.
I raised my face to his and said, hesitantly, cautiously, but with a strange warmth, "What about Ramsay?"
He smiled again, a smile you couldn't see... but felt. Then he whispered, barely audible, as if afraid he'd hear it:
"I'm not afraid that Harry will take Ramsay away from me...as much as I am that he will take you away from me.."
And then that was... the last thing he said.
He turned, with steady steps, and disappeared into the darkness toward the table, where sounds of greeting and laughter began to fill the garden.
Ramsay had arrived.
Everyone was there.
I alone remained here... stunned, frozen in the darkness, staring at nothing, ruminating on a desolation I couldn't name.
Is he afraid Harry will take me away?
From him?
But I'm not his.
And why Harry specifically?
And what does Gabriel see in me that he's so afraid of losing?
Oh God...what does he mean?
My heart pounded, as if his voice was still stuck in it...
No one talking:
I wouldn't say he loved Raquel, but there was something about her that drew him to him. Not exploitation, not a clear evil desire... but amusement, or maybe... a feeling.
Despite her young age, her flushed cheeks sometimes deceived him... making him forget she was his daughter's age.
But he wasn't a criminal, not in the literal sense. A sensible man... to a point.
He emerged from the darkness, gently wiping his fingers on his shirt, the scent of her perfume still lingering.
Then he caught a glimpse of his old face in the distance... the enemy he hadn't expected to return.
Harry wasn't Gabriel's cousin. He wasn't his brother.
He was a former ally, closer than anyone would have guessed.
---
13 years ago...
Gabriel was 25, with an underground empire the police wouldn't dare touch:
illegal racing, bootlegging, shady bars, and millions of dollars in money laundering.
But behind this world, there was another man. He wore his suit every morning, worked quietly in his father's company, and spent weekends with his grandmother. He was a man with two versions: a smart daytime person and a terrifying nighttime person.
He wasn't alone.
Harry was his right-hand man. Confidential, trusted... indeed, a lifelong friend.
And while Gabriel was the star of the scene, Harry was always just one step behind him.
At that point, a veteran smuggler named Risen joined them. He was in his fifties, had a scar over his right eye, and a tattoo of a sunken ship covering his forearm.
He agreed to work with them for 48% of the profits, on the condition that things were conducted in complete secrecy.
And so, things proceeded steadily.
Three years of power, money, and organized violence.
Until Risen brought his daughter.
Her beauty was mesmerizing... scandalous, almost causing chaos wherever she set foot.
A first-class dancer, bold and knowledgeable in how to attract attention, Harry was the first to fall into her trap.
At every meeting, Gabriel spoke in numbers, and Harry followed her with his eyes.
She laughed, twirled, and fooled around with her father's friends, while Harry's mind was a blur.
As for Gabriel, he paid no attention to her. Her great beauty wasn't his type, and her boisterous behavior didn't excite him.
Gabriel noticed his friend's transformation... but didn't intervene.
But love... made Harry change.
He began to lean more toward Ryzen. And little by little, he drifted away from Gabriel.
In fact, Ryzen wanted his daughter to bring Gabrielle closer to him, but she failed.
So he gave in to the idea of her being with Harry. It was easier than he expected.
Then came the blow.
In one of the smuggling operations, Ryzen was arrested. Fortunately, he didn't mention anyone. He bore the charges alone, knowing he would eventually get out.
But Harry was also arrested, for a case unrelated to their business.
Gabriel found himself trapped.
Without Harry, without Ryzen, and without trusted men.
Ryzen's men in the area refused to work under his command.
And everything began to fall apart.
The solution was… a deal.
A marriage between Gabriel and Ryzen's daughter, Elena.
Although he knew it would break Harry's heart, he agreed.restore order.
And so it was.
When Harry was released from prison, Gabriel wasn't waiting for him.
He no longer saw him as a friend.
Although Gabriel didn't care for Elena, he allowed her to visit him.
He wasn't jealous, and he didn't care… until he learned the truth six months later.
Elena was pregnant.
From Gabriel.
Harry, in his madness, couldn't bear it.
In one of his fits of rage... he killed the child.
Only then did Gabriel know that he hated him.
Really.
Shortly afterward, the police stormed the restricted area and raided everything.
Gabriel fled with Elena, forged some identities, and disappeared.
Years passed.
Harry met her again, several times.
Gabriel knew... but didn't interfere.
He wasn't the same man. He didn't care.
---
The bottom line
Hatred was born.
And the child died.
Betrayal mingled with love, and friendship with blood.
From that day on... Harry was no longer a friend.
And Gabriel was no longer an ordinary man.
ــــــــــــــــــــ
Present.
Gabriel walked confidently into the compound, but he didn't expect to immediately see Harry sitting at the table. Beside him was a beautiful, well-dressed young woman, and on the other side was a small child who looked heartbreakingly cute. The three of them were talking, and in his wife Elena's eyes, as in Harry's, there was a hint of admiration that hadn't faded over the years. He felt a pang in his chest, something between jealousy and pity... but not for his wife, but for Harry's wife. As for Elena, he knew full well that she had never been his.
All conversation stopped when they saw him approaching. All eyes turned to him at once, and Harry smiled a sly smile, as if to say, "I'm back."
Gabriel continued walking until he reached the table and extended his hand to Harry to shake, even though they could hardly bear each other's presence.
He said coldly, "It's been so long since I've seen you... I thought you were ashes in some grave."
Harry smiled and returned the handshake, without a word. Then he looked at Harry's wife and extended his hand:
"Welcome, ma'am."
He sat down.
"Elena," Harry said sarcastically. "It seems your husband wasn't too pleased with our arrival."
Gabriel smiled as he poured the wine into his glass and said, without looking up, "And who said that? Does it look like me?"
Elena, as usual, was content to eat her berries and observe the scene, smiling mischievously. The daughter of a drug smuggler, she would never relinquish her fiery nature and constant desire to start small conflicts.
Across the street, Ramsay was attentively turning meat on the grill. Elena got up to help her, leaving the men alone.
"And where's your second girl?" Harry asked, looking around as if searching for something.
Gabriel looked up sharply at him, immediately realizing he was referring to Raquel. He didn't know why he suddenly became furious at the mere mention of her name.
Harry's wife chimed in, trying to sound innocent. "Elena told me you had one daughter, Ramsay... or did you have another?"
Harry laughed and said slyly, "I don't mean a daughter... I mean a mistress."
His wife punched him on the shoulder with feigned shyness. "Harry! Stop!"
But Gabriel didn't smile. He looked at his glass, as if searching for a bottom to escape, and muttered in a low voice, tinged with coldness and anger, "Leave him... his heart is still filled with hatred and malice."
At that moment, the platters of meat were placed on the table. The smoke from the barbecue rose, its fragrance spreading, and with it, all apparent tension disappeared. Everyone fell silent, pretending to laugh and be merry.
And then... she entered.
She stepped out of the shadows into the dim light, with hesitant steps. Shy. Gentle. She looked around nervously, as if she had no idea what awaited her.
Everyone turned to her.
Elena smiled proudly.
Ramsay exclaimed excitedly, "There she is!"
Harry's wife didn't recognize her, but she smiled gently.
But...
Gabriel... and Harry...
Everything stopped.
Their eyes brimmed with silent, indefinable emotions.
Harry's heart suddenly skipped a beat. She wasn't the same woman he'd glimpsed from afar in the car. No, she was different now... She was a young girl, yes, but there was something about her presence that made his eyes follow her every step with fear and suppressed admiration.
As for Gabriel... he turned toward him, lost in the details of her features, as if time had taken him back to that moment thirteen years earlier...
And Gabriel knew then...
that what he'd feared had already begun...