6. Angel in The Office

Alvero Steinbart’s footsteps faded, his frustration a palpable energy in the air long after he was gone. Adryan stood by the desk, a silent, controlled storm. His gaze fell on Gabby, who was still sitting calmly in the armchair. He had to give her credit; she was an unnerving wild card. He had never seen her handle herself with such poise. He had no idea what her play was.

"You're not going to explain that to me?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. "The whole 'messy life' act? What was that?"

Gabby shrugged, closing the book she hadn't been reading. "It worked, didn't it? He looked like he was about to lose his mind."

Adryan ran a hand through his hair. "It worked, but I don't know why you did it." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You've been home all day. Don't you have to go to work?"

The question hit Gabby like a bucket of cold water. Work? The word felt foreign. Her mind, still fixed on a 20-year-old's reality, had completely forgotten about a career. The sudden reality check was jarring. She wasn't a student anymore. She had responsibilities.

She felt a wave of genuine panic. "What... what do I do?" she asked, her voice small. "I mean, what kind of work do I do?"

Adryan's face, already a mask of frustration, tightened even more. He stared at her for a long moment, a flicker of cold rage in his eyes. "Don't. Don't start with the games, Gabby. I don't have time for this."

"I'm serious!" she insisted, a desperate plea in her voice. "I have no idea what I do! You just said I had a job, and I... I don't know what it is."

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Fine. You want to play the amnesia card? We'll play it." He leaned forward, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're the director and founder of a non-profit organization. The Hope Foundation for Childhood Cancer'."

Gabby blinked. A cancer charity? The thought was so far from the image of the selfish, materialistic woman she was told she was. It didn't make sense.

"You wanted to do something that would make you look like a saint to the public," Adryan said, his voice a low growl. "Something that would appeal to voters. This was your big idea to support my run for the presidency in the next election. You're the face of it, the 'angel of hope' for those kids. And you're very, very good at it."

Gabby was speechless. She looked at him, searching for a hint of sarcasm, but there was none. His face was a mixture of anger and a strange, grudging respect. It was a side of her life she never knew existed, a stark contrast to the drama and coldness in their marriage.

"You can play innocent all you want," Adryan said, his voice now flat and final, "but it doesn't change what you are. The foundation has an event this week. Be ready. Don't embarrass me." He turned and left, leaving Gabby alone in the library, the scent of his cologne a lingering reminder of his presence, and a new, bewildering piece of her past that she couldn't comprehend.

What will Gabby do now that she has a job she knows nothing about?

The library door clicked shut behind her, leaving Gabby in a daze. The words "Hope Foundation for Childhood Cancer" echoed in her mind, a stark, uncomfortable reality. This wasn't some frivolous socialite gig; it was a job that demanded something more than a pretty face. It demanded compassion and a purpose she didn't remember having.

She returned to her room, the opulent space now feeling less like a playground and more like a gilded cage. The clothes, the jewelry, the lavish décor—they were all part of the persona, a costume for a life she didn't know. A life she now had to live.

Her first task was to find the office. She picked up her phone and, with a few taps, searched for the "Hope Foundation for Childhood Cancer." A list of addresses popped up, along with a website featuring bright, hopeful images of smiling children. The contrast between this sunny, charitable world and the cold war she was living in was jarring. She jotted down the address, her mind already racing.

Next, she got ready. She chose a simple but elegant dress from her closet, a dark blue sheath that felt more professional and less "party." She applied minimal makeup and styled her hair in a simple, sleek bun. The reflection in the mirror was a stranger, but for the first time, Gabby felt a flicker of connection to her. This woman, the one in the reflection, had a mission. She had a purpose.

After she was ready, she headed downstairs to look for Adryan. She checked his study, the living room, and the dining room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just as he had vanished after their morning encounter, he was gone again, leaving her to navigate this new reality on her own.

Finally, she saw one of the maids, with the name Maria in her uniform, arranging flowers in the foyer. Gabby approached her cautiously.

"Maria," she said, her voice a little softer than usual. "Do you know where Adryan is?"

Maria curtsied. "Mr. Adryan left for his office, ma'am."

"Oh," Gabby said, a beat of disappointment in her voice. "And... are the cars in the garage available? May I drive one?"

Maria's eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise in her expression, but she quickly composed herself. "Of course, ma'am. The keys are always in the ignition. You may take whichever car you please."

Gabby nodded, a small, grateful smile on her face. She walked to the garage, a massive space filled with a fleet of luxury cars. Her eyes immediately landed on a sleek, silver Audi. It looked fast and efficient, a car for a woman who had places to be and work to do. She got in, the leather seat a familiar comfort.

She pulled out of the driveway, the GPS on her phone guiding her to an office building she had never seen before. The drive was a silent testament to the new life she was embarking on, a life where she was no longer just the woman in a beautiful house, but a woman with a job, a purpose, and a past she was just beginning to unravel.

The library door clicked shut behind her, leaving Gabby in a daze. The words "Hope Foundation for Childhood Cancer" echoed in her mind, a stark, uncomfortable reality. This wasn't some frivolous socialite gig; it was a job that demanded something more than a pretty face. It demanded compassion and a purpose she didn't remember having.

She returned to her room, the opulent space now feeling less like a playground and more like a gilded cage. The clothes, the jewelry, the lavish décor they were all part of the persona, a costume for a life she didn't know. A life she now had to live.

Her first task was to find the office. She picked up her phone and, with a few taps, searched for her office. A list of addresses popped up, along with a website featuring bright, hopeful images of smiling children. The contrast between this sunny, charitable world and the cold war she was living in was jarring. She jotted down the address, her mind already racing.

Next, she got ready. She chose a simple but elegant dress from her closet, a dark blue sheath that felt more professional and less "party." She applied minimal makeup and styled her hair in a simple, sleek bun. The reflection in the mirror was a stranger, but for the first time, Gabby felt a flicker of connection to her. This woman, the one in the reflection, had a mission. She had a purpose.

After she was ready, she headed downstairs to look for Adryan. She checked his study, the living room, and the dining room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just as he had vanished after their morning encounter, he was gone again, leaving her to navigate this new reality on her own.

Finally, she saw one of the maids that arranging flowers in the foyer. Gabby approached her cautiously.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice a little softer than usual. "Do you know where Adryan is?"

That maid curtsied. "Mr. Adryan left for his office, ma'am."

"Oh," Gabby said, a beat of disappointment in her voice. "And... are the cars in the garage available? May I drive one?"

The maid eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise in her expression, but she quickly composed herself. "Of course, ma'am. The keys are always in the ignition. You may take whichever car you please."

Gabby nodded, a small, grateful smile on her face. She walked to the garage, a massive space filled with a fleet of luxury cars. Her eyes immediately landed on a sleek, silver Audi. It looked fast and efficient, a car for a woman who had places to be and work to do. She got in, the leather seat a familiar comfort.

She pulled out of the driveway, the GPS on her phone guiding her to an office building she had never seen before. The drive was a silent testament to the new life she was embarking on, a life where she was no longer just the woman in a beautiful house, but a woman with a job, a purpose, and a past she was just beginning to unravel.

Gabby’s GPS led her to a modern, glass-fronted building. The logo above the entrance was a simple, stylized heart intertwined with a child’s drawing of a star. The building felt different from the start—less like a corporate fortress and more like a beacon of hope.

She parked the Audi and walked inside, a mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling in her stomach. The receptionist, a young woman with a warm, friendly smile, looked up from her desk, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Gabriella! We didn’t expect you today. Come on in, please.” The receptionist's voice was genuinely pleased, almost reverent. It was a stark contrast to the deferential but cold attitude of the mansion's staff.

"Just... checking in," Gabby said, forcing a casual smile. She felt like an imposter. "Could you point me to... my office?"

“Of course! It’s right this way.”

Gabby was led down a hallway filled with colorful, vibrant artwork. Not expensive paintings, but crayon drawings from children, pinned to corkboards. They were simple, but full of life. Photos of kids playing, laughing, and holding hands lined the walls, a world away from the cold, formal portraits of Adryan and her old self.

The receptionist stopped at a large, sunlit office with a nameplate on the door: Gabriella Lewis - Founder & Director.

Gabby stepped inside and her breath caught. It wasn’t a sterile, cold workspace. It was a place with a soul. The walls were a soft cream, and one side of the room was taken up by a massive corkboard filled with photos. Not of political figures or society events, but of children. She saw their names, their ages, and small handwritten notes beside them. Her own handwriting.

Leo, age 6. Loves dinosaurs.

Sofia, age 9. Wants to be a baker.

Ethan, age 12. Won a video game competition.

This wasn't just a job for her past self; it was her life's work. She was the one who had created this.

A woman walked into the office, carrying a stack of files. She had kind eyes and a tired smile. She was in her late forties, dressed in a simple, professional skirt suit. She stopped short, surprised to see Gabby.

“Gabriella? I didn’t expect you. Is everything alright?” the woman asked, her voice filled with concern.

Gabby quickly recovered. "Yes, everything's fine. I just... wanted to get a head start on things." She didn't know who this woman was. She hoped her expression didn't give away the complete blank slate in her mind.

The woman’s tired smile brightened. “That's wonderful! I was just about to bring you the latest quarterly report.” She placed the files on the desk. "I'm so glad you're here."

Gabby offered her a small, tight smile. "That's very thoughtful of you." She desperately wanted to ask for her name, but that would give her away.

“I was just about to brief you on the final details for the gala next week. We have a new patient, Chloe. She’s only four. I thought you might want to meet her before your speech.”

Gabby's mind went blank. A speech? A gala? A four-year-old she was supposed to know? She felt a pang of fear that was far worse than her confrontation with Adryan. This was real. These were real people.

“The gala is important,” the woman said, her expression serious. “The funds will go directly to Chloe and the other children. Your personal touch, your passion, is what makes it so successful every year.”

Her words hit Gabby like a physical blow. Adryan had called her an "angel of hope" for his political campaign, a cold, calculating move. But here, in this office, it was clear her past self had been genuinely invested. The "why" didn't matter anymore. This was a truth that stood on its own.

Gabby swallowed hard. "Of course," she said, her voice a little shaky. "I'll get right on it."

She sat down at the large desk, staring at the stack of files. On top was a folder labeled Gala Speech. She opened it. The first line was a quote from a child. A little girl named Lily.

Hope is a dream without wings.

Gabby stared at the words, a lump forming in her throat. She had no idea who she was anymore. The superficial socialite, the ambitious political partner, the cold wife, or this person... the person who founded and directed a charity for children with cancer. She had a week to figure out how to give a speech she didn't believe, for a cause she couldn't remember, for a man who claimed to hate her.