Page 123 of The Beast

She was quiet for a long moment. Then, “I don’t know. Can you do it without telling me how my father needs to die?”

He still believed it. Probably always would. But that wasn’t why he was here.

“I can try.”

Another pause. Then she shifted slightly, making room at the railing. Not an invitation, exactly. But not a rejection either.

The wind was cold this high up, but he barely felt it. All he could feel as he moved to the rail was her—the distance between them, the wall she’d built since this morning, the fear radiating off her in waves.

Fear of him. No. Fear for him. Fear of what he might become.

And that hurt worse than anything Sterling Hart had ever done to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She didn’t respond. Didn’t move away. Didn’t shrug. Didn’t look at him.

He cleared his throat. “This morning, I was wrong. The way I talked about your father, the things I said—I made you feel like your opinion didn’t matter. Like I’d already made up my mind and you just had to live with it.” He gripped the railing, knuckles white. “That’s not okay. That’s not the man I want to be. Not with you.”

“And what man do you want to be?” She finally turned to look at him, and the pain in her eyes nearly broke him. “Because the one I saw this morning scared me, Gabriel. Really scared me.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She stepped closer, and he could see the tracks of dried tears on her cheeks. “Because here’s what I keep coming back to. You believed the worst about me for five years. Five years of hating me, planning to destroy me. But then, when it really mattered, you chose to believe in me without proof. You took a leap of faith.”

“I remember.”

“So why can’t you do that now?” Her voice cracked. “Why can’t you have faith that the system will work? That my father will face real consequences? Why does it have to be blood?”

The question cut deep. Deeper than she knew.

“Because systems don’t work for men like him.” The words came out raw. “Sterling Hart has been committing crimes for decades. Money laundering, bribery, attempted murder—and he’s never spent a single night in jail. And right now, he’s out there eliminating witnesses while we wait for warrants to get signed.”

Bella said nothing, her expression unreadable.

“I know what you’re asking me to do,” he continued. “I know the courts are the right answer. I know killing him makes me a monster. I know all of that.” He turned to face her fully. “But every time I close my eyes, I see that cabin. I feel the ropes. I hear them whispering your name.” He stopped. Breathed. “And then I think about him walking free. Again. Like he always does. And the beast wants blood.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, not in defense of the cold, he thought, but in defense against him.

“So you’re going to give it to him? Blood?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “That’s the plan? Kill him and damn the consequences?”

“The plan is to protect you the only way I know how.”

“By becoming someone I can’t love?”

The words hit like a physical blow, and he swallowed. Hard.

“No,” he said softly, then took her hand, and when she didn’t pull away, something loosened in his chest. “I can’t lose you over this. Over him.”

He dragged the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “This morning, you asked me to choose, and I couldn’t give you an answer. But I have one now.”

“And?”

“I choose you.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I choose us. I choose being the kind of man who lets the courts handle it, even when every cell in my body wants blood.”

Her smile bloomed as he continued.

“I choose day by day, one step at a time, figuring out how to be someone worthy of you.”