Toxic Attraction

Gabriel's POV

The sun crawled into my room like it was mocking me, hitting the messy pile of sketchbooks in the corner. I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Derek’s cold blue gaze and felt the phantom weight of Bradley’s indifference.

I kept checking my phone. It was a reflex now, a sick twitch in my thumb. Check. Refresh. Nothing. Not a text. Not a Gabe, I am sorry." Not even a Go to hell." Five years of my life, five years of me being his bank account, his secret keeper, and his ghost, erased in a single night.

Bradley was probably eating an expensive breakfast in Derek’s suite right now, laughing at how easy it was to swap a broke artist for a billionaire heir.

My chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a rusted spoon. I was a nerdy, stuttering introvert with zero friends because I had spent every waking second making sure Bradley felt like a king. I had no one. Bradley had always been my only friend. The only human that ever showed me affection and now he was just gone. Should I text him? I mean I am at the losing side, should I apologize. Maybe it was my fault he cheated. I didn't give him just enough money.

I picked up the phone, my fingers trembling over Bradley's contact. But then I changed my mind, I should call my mum first. My whole bloody life depends on her. She was my last tether.

"Please," I whispered to the empty room. "Just this once, be a mother to me."

The phone rang three times before she picked up.

"Gabriel? Why are you calling so early? I am preparing for the Deaconess meeting."

"Mom," I choked out, my voice sounding like it was underwater. "Please. You have to cancel the wedding. I... I can't do this. I don't like Mr. Miller. I don't like his son. Something is wrong, Mom. Please don't marry him."

There was a pause. I waited for her to ask why. I waited for her to hear the absolute terror in my breathing.

"Gabriel, stop this nonsense," she snapped, her voice shifting into that sharp, holy tone she used from the pulpit. "Do you have any idea what you’re saying? This is God’s plan for us. After all the years we struggled, the Lord has finally ordained a man of substance to change our lives. This is favor, Gabriel. Pure favor."

"What if I kill myself, Mom?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. It was a desperate, ugly cry for help. "If you move into that house, I won’t survive. I will end it. I swear.... please listen to me. Mr Miller's son bullies me a lot in school.."

I expected a gasp. A sob. A stay right there, I am coming."

Instead, she let out a dry, sharp laugh. "Oh, Gabriel. Always the drama. You don't even have the strength to kill a fly, let alone yourself. And what about bully? don't you have muscles to fight for yourself. Anyway, make sure you put your glasses on so you can actually find the courage to do it right. You won't ruin my miracle with your stupidity. I have a wedding to plan. Snap out of it."

Click.

The dial tone was the loudest thing I had ever heard. My own mother. The woman who preached about sanctity and love every Sunday had just told me to see clearly while I died.

She didn't want a son, she wanted a ticket to the Miller fortune. She didn't even know I was gay yet, if she did, she would probably be the one holding the rope.

I fell back onto my thin dorm mattress, staring at the ceiling until the white paint blurred into grey. I was so alone it felt like I was disappearing. I was a ghost in my own life.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The knock on the door wasn't a request. It was a demand. I scrambled up, my heart hammering against my ribs. For a split second, a tiny, pathetic part of me hoped it was Bradley. Maybe he had realized he missed me and needed me.

I opened the door, and the air left the room.

It was Derek. And Connor. They didn't wait to be invited, they just barged in, Derek’s expensive leather boots clicking on my cheap floor. He looked at his watch, his face a mask of bored aggression.

"It’s been fourteen hours, Gabe," Derek said, his voice low and dangerous. "And yet, my father just called to tell me the florist is booked. Why is the wedding talk still on?"

I backed away until my calves hit the edge of my bed. "I... I tried. I called her. She won't listen to me. Please, Derek, give me more time. She’s... I will... convince her... I swear."

Derek let out a short, harsh laugh. He stepped closer, filling up my small room until I felt like I was being buried alive. "More time? As if. Tell me the truth, you little freak. You and your hoe of a mother schemed this whole thing, didn't you? You wanted the Miller name. You wanted to inherit a piece of what’s mine."

"No! I don't want your money!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "I want to be left alone! I never asked for any of this! I am surprised as you are you!"

Derek didn't believe me. He didn't want to. He looked over at Connor, a dark, jagged smile spreading across his face. "You know, Connor, I think Gabriel needs a reminder of who really call the shots here. Something that will make him get his hoe mother off my father's back for good."

My blood turned to ice. "What... what are you doing?"

Derek took another step, pinning me between his body and the bed. He was so close I could smell the woodsmoke and mint on his breath. My heart skipped a beat, a traitorous, sickening thud. Even now, while he was destroying me, my body was reacting to the sheer, overwhelming heat of him. I hated myself for it. I was embarrassed, a pathetic mess aching for the person who wanted to ruin me.

"We are going to be step-brothers, right?" Derek whispered, his eyes scanning my face like he was looking for a place to break me. "Family shares everything, Gabe. Connor, strip him."

"No! Wait!" I scrambled back, but Connor moved like a machine, grabbing my arms and pinning them behind my back.

"Derek, please don't do this!" I pleaded, my glasses sliding down my nose as I struggled.

Derek didn't answer with words. He lunged forward, his mouth crashing against mine in a kiss that wasn't a kiss, it was a declaration of war. It tasted like salt and fury. Before I could even process the shock of it, he shoved my head down toward his waist.

The sound of his belt unbuckling was the loudest thing in the world.

Click. Slidesss.

The heavy leather hissed as he pulled it through the loops with one violent jerk. I felt the rough fabric of his shorts being tugged down, and the reality of what was happening hit me like a physical blow to the stomach.

He wasn't just bullying me anymore. He was humiliating me now. He was gonna make me suck his dick again. And the worst part? The absolutely sickest part of this whole mess was that as I felt his hands in my ginger hair, a part of me was terrified that this was the most attention anyone had given me in years.

I was a mess. A broken, nerdy, invisible mess....