**He Starved For 8 Days Fearing Poison—Until A Broken Waitress Served Him A $6 Bowl That Brought Him To His Knees**

Before I could process the weight of Gabriel’s revelation, Leo’s tactical earpiece buzzed with sharp, urgent static.

Leo tapped the receiver, his expression darkening within seconds. His hand immediately dropped to the grip of his pistol. "When? How many?"

Gabriel's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. The exhaustion vanished, replaced by the lethal, coiled tension of an apex predator. "Report, Leo."

Leo looked up, his jaw set grimly. "Benny’s Diner. Three minutes ago."

My heart plummeted into my stomach. "Benny? What happened to Benny?!"

"Two men in raincoats," Leo said, his voice flat and clinical. "Suppressed submachine guns. They kicked through the back kitchen door, shot Benny twice in the chest, and set the place on fire with military-grade thermite. The whole block is burning."

"No... no, no, no," I gasped, stumbling backward until my back hit the cool marble counter. Benny. Benny was sixty-two years old. He gave free pancakes to homeless kids on Sunday mornings. He complained about his sciatica and let me study for my nursing exams during the slow graveyard shifts. "He was just an old man! He didn't know anything!"

"They weren't looking for information," Gabriel said, his voice devoid of warmth, cold as dry ice. "They were checking my trail. They tracked the SUVs to the South End. They realized I ate there. And they eliminated the source."

He stepped toward me, grabbing my upper arm. His grip was firm, not cruel, but unbreakable. "If you had stayed behind to finish your shift, Norah, your body would currently be turning to ash inside that kitchen."

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and furious. "This is your fault! You brought this to him! You brought your poison to an innocent man!"

"Yes," Gabriel admitted without hesitation, his dark eyes never wavering. "It is my fault. That is the world I live in. Everyone who touches me either gets burned or bleeds. But you are still breathing. And if you want to stay that way, you need to listen to every single word I say."

He turned to Leo. "Call Marcus. Tell him to assemble the inner circle for an emergency briefing tomorrow morning at dawn. I want every capo in this room. Victor, Julian, and Sal."

"Boss," Leo hesitated, his brow furrowing. "If one of them is the leak, bringing them all into the penthouse is putting a target on your back."

"Let them bring their targets," Gabriel snapped, his voice ringing with dark authority. "For the last eight days, they thought I was dying. They thought the poison was doing its job. Tomorrow, I will sit at the head of that table, fully restored, clear-headed, and hungry. I want to see the color drain from the traitor’s face when they realize their ghost has come back to life."

He turned back to me. "Norah, the pantry behind you is stocked with untouched, vacuum-sealed rations from a military bunker in Utah. Nothing touched by local distributors. You will prepare breakfast for five men tomorrow morning."

"I am not your servant," I spat, wiping a stray tear from my cheek, my anger boiling over. "I am a medical student. A human being."

"Tomorrow morning, you are my line of defense," Gabriel said, leaning down so his face was level with mine. "You will prepare the food. You will plate it under my direct supervision. And then, you will stand beside me and watch them eat."

"And if they poison the food you give them?" I challenged.