(Gloria)The next day, I got to the office before Gabriel and Kate, not because I was eager, but because I needed to gather my wits. Gabriel strolled in not long after, all crisp in his suit and signature flat expression. But I knew better now, didnโt I? I knew how his body reacted even when his mind fought it.โMorning,โ I greeted, flashing a polite smile.โMorning,โ he returned, his voice curt.Oh? So thatโs how we were playing it? Pretend nothing happened? Act like he didnโt kiss me like he was starving for it? Like he didnโt touch me like he was mapping out a new obsession?Okay.I strolled to the break room, making his coffee with the same careful motions as always, but this time, I let my fingers drag a little slower over the cup, let the rich aroma of the beans mix with the subtle scent of my perfume. When I brought it to his desk, I leaned in just enough, letting my blouse shift slightly, enough to hint but not expose.โYour coffee, sir,โ I murmured, watching him over the rim
Mature Content Warning: This chapter contains explicit adult content. Reader discretion is advised.(Gloria)I need to leave, right now.The message on my phone burns into my brain, but I force myself to stay composed, inhaling slowly before rising from my chair and walking toward Gabrielโs office.Heโs on the phone when I step in, standing by the window, his suit jacket draped over the chair. Sunlight shines on his dark hair, making him look etherealโฆ handsome. But I donโt have time to get distracted.He turns, his sharp blue eyes locking onto me. โIโll call you back,โ he says into the receiver before hanging up. โWhat is it?โI straighten my shoulders. โI need to leave early.โHis brow lifts. โWhy?โI hesitate. Damn it. I shouldโve thought this throughโฆ and come up with something vague, something that wouldnโt make him ask questions. But that text, and the thought of my apartment wrecked, I donโt have the energy for a lie.โThere was a break-in at my place,โ I admit, my voice tight.
The moment we step inside my apartment, the sight of the destruction makes my stomach twist. Shattered glass, overturned furniture, drawers yanked open and emptied onto the floor, it looks worse than I expected.In the middle of it all, Mr. Henderson stands like a weary soldier with his arms crossed over his chest. He lifts his head when we enter, his face lined with concern.โI stayed to make sure no one came back,โ he says, nodding toward the mess. โDidnโt want them taking whatโs left.โA lump forms in my throat. Mr. Henderson barely knows me, yet heโs been so helpful, โThank you,โ I say, meaning it.Gabriel steps forward with his commanding presence. โDid you see anything?โ His voice is gruff and edged with frustration.Mr. Henderson shakes his head. โNo, but I can take you both to the security room. Theyโve got cameras.โGabriel glances at me. โWeโre going.โ Itโs not a suggestion.I exhale slowly, pushing past the unease in my gut. Someone broke into my apartment, tore through my
(Gloria)I pull my door shut, twisting the key in the lock before stepping back. The new lock will be here tomorrow, but for now, this will have to do. Gabriel is already ahead of me, his long strides carrying him down the hallway, his phone pressed to his ear. His tone is crisp and distant but not cold, more likeโฆ measured. I trail behind him, watching the way his shoulders stay tense and his free hand flexes at his side. Whoever heโs talking to, itโs not just business.Still, I feel a small thrill, a giddiness I try to smother. Heโs looking out for me, protecting me. That means Iโm getting closer to breaking through his walls, closer to getting what I need. Closer to that ring.A slow smirk tugs at my lips.But thenโฆGabriel laughs.Not a soft chuckle, not a breath of amusement, but a humorless sound. The kind that makes the hairs on my arms rise.โWhy are you so desperate to give me my inheritance?โ he asks, voice dripping with skepticism. โEven after Iโve told you countless times,
(Gloria)I let the hot water run over me, my muscles finally starting to relax as the steam fills the bathroom. The scent of expensive hotel soap clings to my skin, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the feeling of comfort and luxury.I step out and wrap myself in a plush robe, grab my phone from the nightstand, and scroll through my contacts before pressing Elenaโs name. It rings twice before she picks up.โFinally,โ she huffs. โI was about to call the damn police myself.โI sigh, sinking onto the bed. โDonโt start.โโDonโt start? Gloria, your apartment got broken into. You shouldโve called the cops the second you saw those security tapes.โโI handled it,โ I say firmly. โThe moneyโs sent, so itโs done.โThereโs a long pause. ThenโฆโYou think itโs done,โ Elena mutters. โThatโs the problem.โI press my fingers against my temple. โE, they only wanted what Ethan owed them. I paid. End of story.โโYou donโt know that.โHer voice is insistent, but I shake my head. No, Iโm not letting pa
(Gloria)I should have slept longer and woken up with a fresh mind, maybe let Elenaโs words settle, let Eleanorโs suggestions roll off me like water instead of sinking into my bones. Instead, I spent half the night turning them over in my head, trying to pick apart the pieces.How much money is on the line for Gabriel to refuse it? Why does his father want him to take it so badly? And why is Eleanor willing to risk everything just to tie me to him? It doesnโt add up, none of it does. And the fact that I donโt have answers is bothering me.But thatโs not the only thing bothering me, because the second I step into the office, I feel it. Hushed voices, sneaky glances, the weight of attention pressing in on me from all sides. Somethingโs wrong.I force myself to keep walking, my heels clicking against the polished floor with my expression blank. If thereโs one thing Iโve learned, itโs that showing uncertainty is the fastest way to get eaten alive.ThenโฆโGloria.
(Gloria)I sit at my desk with my fingers clenched so tight around my pen that I swear itโs seconds from snapping. The moment Gabriel had hit me with that bullshit about fine and probation, I wanted to launch myself over his stupid, expensive desk and strangle him with his own damn tie. He knows I didnโt do it, he has to. But instead of admitting that, and actually doing something about the person who framed me, he took the easy way out by punishing me just enough to remind me that in his world, I had no real power.I chew the inside of my cheek, my eyes burning into the heap of paperwork in front of me, but none of the words register. Iโm too busy thinking about every venomous thing I want to say to him the next time I see his stupidly perfect face.And then, like some cruel twist of fate, Kate decides this is the perfect time to open her mouth.โOh my God,โ she sighs dreamily from her desk, flipping her straight black hair over her shoulder. โI canโt believe Iโll be flying out with
(Gloria)I make it all the way back to my desk before the smile drops from my face because now, reality is sinking in.Iโm going on a business trip with Gabriel. Not Kate. Not some other executive. Me. And as much as I want to be smug about it, my mind wonโt stop running in circles.Because this trip isnโt just about work for me, Itโs an opportunity. Every second I spend with Gabriel is a chance to get closer, to himt. And I need that. I need him to want me, to trust me, and to see me as more than some temporary employee he can toss aside.I need it to fulfil the contract. But more than that, I need it for me. I shake my head, shoving that thought away before it can take root. Kate is still glaring daggers at me from across the office and I send her a sweet smile before grabbing my bag.That night I donโt overthink it, I pack black dresses, heels, silk blouses, a few fitted skirts. Busines appropriate, but strategic attires, nothing too obvious. Just enough to keep Gabrielโs eyes on
(Gloria)โBreathe,โ Elena whispered, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.I tried but the air caught in my throat, thick and dry. My lungs were working, but it didnโt feel like breathing, it felt like drowning.The dress fit like a custom made trap.Silk, delicate and stupidly expensive, clunging to every inch of me like it had a personal grudge. White, backless, tight around the ribs, I looked like the kind of dreamy bride people wrote poems about. But underneath? I felt like a prisoner.We stood just behind a pillar out of sight, but I could already hear the rustle of guests, the low hum of whispers, and the click-click-click of paparazzi cameras fighting for a shot. โYou ready?โ Elena asked, her fingers brushing mine.I nodded, but the truth was, I wanted to run, like, just bolt. But my heels stayed rooted to the grass, like even they knew escape was pointless.โYou look like youโre about to jump the hedge,โ she said. โIf you do, Iโm not wearing flats under this dress for nothing. I
(Gloria)Elena sinks into the chair beside me, picking up the halfempty wine bottle on the table. โSoโฆ everythingโs unraveling fast, huh?โI let the rim of the glass rest on my lips before I answer. โApocalyptic.โShe winces. โSorry.โI shrug stiffly. โDonโt be. Eleanor Montclair doesnโt back down. Iโll give her that.โThereโs a beat of silence, then Elena says quietly, โYou admire her?โI scoff. โNo. Maybe. Hell, I donโt even know. Sheโs scary but effective. She sent me this ridiculous form to fill out, and when I hesitated, she hit me with so much legal jargon, I thought Iโd be arrested for lying about my blood type.โElena lets out a low whistle. โShe really did her daughter-in-law homework.โโThoroughly,โ I mutter, setting the glass down harder than I mean to. โShame her son isnโt going along without a fightโElena shifts. โHe was angryโฆโโHe was humiliated,โ I cut in. โAnd now he thinks marrying me is the worst decision of his life.โElena clears her throat. โJordan hasnโt called
(Gabriel)The moment I step out of the car back home, flashes go off like fireworks from the cameras shoved into my face, with reporters barking questions I have zero interest in answering.โMr. Montclair, is it true you fired your secretary?โโWas the relationship ever real?โโDid she seduce you for the money?โI keep walking with my sunglasses on. Let them feast on the scraps because Iโm here for the queen of manipulation herself.I push open the grand double doors and make my way inside without a word to the housekeepers who bow and scurry out of my way. Up the marble stairs, past the lifeless portraits of smiling men I never cared to resemble, and straight to her favorite room, the tea room.The doorโs already open of course. She probably wants this to feel casual and warm. My mother sits by the window elegantly like sheโs been waiting for me to arrive. She smiles like Iโm her darling boy coming home from war.โGabriel,โ she says softly, patting the velvet cushion beside her. โCo
(Gabriel) The saltwater clings to my skin as I step out of the ocean, feeling the waves pull away from me with each step forward and i take a deep breath to enjoy the tropical air. Hawaiiโs warm breeze is supposed to wash away the anger, frustration, and chaos of my life, but it doesnโt. It doesnโt do a damn thing to numb the knot in my stomach or the rage simmering just beneath the surface of my skin.I make my way to the beach dragging my board behind me, the sound of the ocean drowned out by the rush in my ears. The soft sand shifts under my feet as I approach the edge of the beach, and thatโs when I see them.Two women. Tall, tanned, and wearing almost nothing. Theyโre eyeing me up like Iโm their next meal. I donโt blame them, no doubt the waves have done wonders for my physique.The blonde is the first to speak. โNice ride out there,โ she says with flirtation in her voice.I glance over to them disinterestedly. Iโm not in the mood for small talk. But then I notice the brunette.
(Gloria)My phone rings and I almost drop it. Eleanor Montclair.Her name stares back at me like itโs been branded on my screen. I freeze, every one of my muscles tightening. Suddenly, the idea of crying over a documentary feels like a warm up for the real horror show to come .Because if thereโs one person whoโs probably angrier than Gabriel right now, itโs his mother.I imagine her standing in a designer robe, swirling a glass of wine like a villain from a movie, already drafting the legal papers to sue me into poverty. I picture myself back on Elenaโs couch begging for space, struggling to afford groceries, and eating cheap ramen in bulk while I try to pay backโฆThe phone buzzes again in my palm demanding an answer.Shit. Okay.I swipe. โHello?โNo greeting and no hesitation.โIโll pay it back,โ I blurt. โPlease. Just give me a payment plan or something. Iโฆ I know the contractโs over, but I swear Iโll find a way. You donโt have to take me to court or ruin my life orโฆ โโGloria,โ El
(Gloria)I stare at the door hoping it might swing back open like Gabriel forgot something, maybe his sanity, maybe his heart. Maybe the part of him that didnโt just threaten me like a mafia boss in a three piece suit.But no. It stays shut.And Iโm just standing there, jaw slack and completely, spectacularly, ruined.โWelp,โ I whisper, blinking. โI think that went well.โA tiny, pitiful laugh bubbles out of me but it dies as fast as it came.I take a step forward, my knees buckle. Okay. Thatโs fine. Thatโs totally okay. Iโve been through worse.โฆHavenโt I?Then I collapse onto the floor in a heap, one arm flopped over my stomach like Iโve just been fatally wounded in battle. Maybe I have. The battle of the heart. The war of love. The massacre of dignity.And then it happens, the sobs.Real ones, loud and messy. Not those pretty movie tears. Nope. This is the kind of crying that makes your face puff up like a marshmallow and your nose run like a broken faucet.I bury my face in my han
(Gabriel)โWell?โ I ask, the word coming out as more of a command than a question. My eyes rake over her coldly but inside, a storm is raging. She looks like a mess, unkept, terrified, and I can barely keep it together.Iโm fighting every impulse not to grab her and shake the answers out of her, demanding she tell me what the hell is going on. Instead, I stand there stiffly, my fists clenched at my sides trying to control the rage thatโs boiling in my veins.Kate had walked into my office earlier, slamming that tablet down in front of me with an expression that said โyou need to see thisโ. The documentary was everywhere, the headline hitting me like a slap across the face: Ex-Drug Dealerโs Secret Contract to Marry Montclair CEO. The words felt like they burned into my skin.Gloria, an ex-drug dealer working with her trash of an ex, Ethan. And then the real kicker, a contract from my mother, Eleanor Montclair, to marry me for money. All over the media. Iโm still trying to wrap my head
(Gloria) I wake up with a jolt with my phone vibrating against my chest and pressing into me like itโs trying to make sure Iโm awake. Groaning, I push it off and onto the couch, the screen lighting up and blinking at me like a warning sign. I rub my eyes, feeling the ache in my head from too much sleep, and I shuffle to the kitchen, craving some water to shake off the grogginess. The cool glass of water hits my lips but it doesnโt stop the gnawing feeling in my gut. I can hear my phone, no, I can feel it vibrating from the other room. Then the beeps start. A flood of notifications, calls. I freeze, water halfway down my throat, and a cold shiver races down my spine. I know whatโs happening. I know. Itโs over. Theyโve done it. Just like they said they would. Iโve been exposed. My heart races as I stare at the water in my hand, as if it could somehow give me the answers I need, some way out. But there isnโt one. Itโs too late now. I ignore the phone, my fingers twitching as the n
(Gloria)The next day Iโm at home. Iโd gone home early the previous day after telling Gabriel Iโd take the day off, much to his delight. I guess he was happy to get me to relax a bit.Now, Iโm on the couch, wrapped in my blanket mindlessly eating Chinese takeout. The TVโs on but Iโm not really watching anything. Iโm just sort ofโฆ there. My thoughts are too tangled, too all over the place, and I canโt seem to shake off this feeling of being stuck.Iโm lost in the emptiness of the moment when the doorbell rings, interrupting the silence. I almost ignore it, who the hell is visiting me? Iโm not expecting anyone. But the damn thing rings again, louder this time. So, I roll my eyes and reluctantly pull myself up off the couch.When I open the door, Iโm hit with the surprise of a delivery guy standing there holding a big hamper. Thereโs food, fruit, andโฆ flowers? My first thought is, What the hell?He hands me a card after I sign for it. I glance at it, almost as if I donโt want to know who