8. The Predator and the Pretender

Gabby spent the rest of the night in a daze. She couldn't sleep. She spent the time looking up the "Hope Foundation for Childhood Cancer." On the screen, she saw videos from previous galas, where "she" stood at the podium, speaking passionately about hope, moving the audience. She saw photos of herself holding children's hands, a genuine smile on her face.

She didn't recognize the woman, yet she couldn't deny it. It was her.

The next morning, she went to the office. She drove her Audi, a new sense of anxiety in her chest. She entered the building, and everyone greeted her with respect and warm smiles. They called her "Gabriella" or "Mrs. Lewis," and they spoke to her as if she were a hero.

She entered her office, which was filled with photos and drawings of children. On the wall, a large painting of her hung, with the inscription:

‘Gabriella Halim’

‘God is my strength, the wise, the gentle and patient one.’

She stared at the painting, feeling a strange ache. It was her old name, a name she didn't even remember. Her phone rang, the sound jarring. She hesitated but picked it up.

"Gabby? Where have you been? Are you ignoring me?" Isabella's voice came through the phone, sharp and impatient. "Mom called me, she said you've disappeared. Why aren't you answering her calls? You know she hates it when you don't answer."

Gabby froze. Her younger sister. The name she remembered, but the voice was a harsh command. All the memories of abuse and orders came rushing back to her. She dropped the phone, her breath catching. She had found a puzzle piece, but it only made the whole picture more confusing.

The door to her office opened, and a middle-aged woman walked in, her eyes radiating warmth and concern. "Gabriella? What happened? You dropped the phone. Is everything alright?"

Gabby stared at her, her eyes blank. She didn't know who this woman was. The woman approached and hugged her. "You look pale. Have you eaten? You've been working so hard. You need to rest."

The woman was Dr. Evelyn Evans, the Head of Operations for the Foundation. The woman who spoke about Gabby's speech for the upcoming gala and about a little girl named Chloe, who desperately needed help. Every word she spoke reinforced the fact that Gabby was a very important figure here, someone admired and respected.

Another woman, a secretary, came in. "Mrs. Lewis, there's someone here to see you. She insists. She says it's very important."

"Who?" Gabby asked, her voice hoarse.

"Ms. Adelyn Romney."

Gabby's jaw hardened. She felt a surge of adrenaline and a mixture of hatred and curiosity. She knew why this woman was here.

She looked out the window. A luxurious car pulled up. A blonde woman got out, wearing a yellow shirt & mini skirt, walked confidently toward the building. So, she was the same woman she had faced on the phone, the woman she knew had a close relationship with her husband?

The secretary led Adelyn Romney into Gabby’s office. Adelyn’s smile, as she walked in, didn't reach her eyes. They were cold, calculating, assessing the room and Gabby herself. She was dressed impeccably, a perfect professional in a world of suits. She didn’t look out of place here; she looked like she owned it.

“Mrs. Gabriella Lewis,” Adelyn said, her voice a practiced silk. “I was so worried about you. Are you fine?”

Gabby remained seated behind her desk, a shield of polished wood between them. "I'm fine, thank you for asking," she replied, her voice calm. She saw Adelyn’s eyes flick to the corkboard full of children’s photos, then to the painting of her on the wall. Adelyn's smile tightened for a fraction of a second, an almost imperceptible hint of annoyance.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Adelyn continued, her gaze settling on Gabby. “It’s just… Ryan mentioned a few strange things. He said you were a bit different. A little… lost.”

Gabby’s heart pounded, but she kept her composure. This is not about Ryan, not now. This is a battle for my own identity. "I don't think so," Gabby said, leaning forward. "I've been feeling quite focused, actually. Especially after coming back to the foundation."

Adelyn’s eyes narrowed. She walked closer to the desk, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Let's be honest, Gabriella. We both know you were only here for the photo ops. You hated the paperwork. You hated the galas. You always said it was so exhausting."

Gabby felt a stab of fear. Adelyn was speaking of things she couldn’t possibly know, details that revealed a genuine past relationship. This wasn't just gossip; it was a memory. "Things change, Adelyn. I suppose I've found a new perspective."

Adelyn chuckled, a cold sound. “A new perspective, or a new trick? Ryan is worried about your erratic behavior. The way you're talking to him, the way you’re behaving... it's all so different.” She leaned over the desk, her eyes fixed on Gabby. "He's trying to protect his public image, and I'm trying to help him. You're becoming a liability, Gabby. You're unpredictable."

A wave of anger washed over Gabby. This woman wasn’t concerned; she was a political rival, a power player in her own right. She was here to assess a threat.

"Ryan has a lot on his plate," Gabby said, her voice hardening. "But I think I'm the least of his concerns. I can handle myself."

"Is that so?" Adelyn's voice dropped to a taunting murmur, her eyes narrowing. "You've been out of commission for days, and the foundation is running perfectly. Ryan's schedule is back on track. We've even discussed some of our plans for his campaign in private." Adelyn's eyes darted to Gabby's finger, which was bare. "I see you're not wearing your wedding ring today. It seems you've made your intentions clear. And that makes things a lot easier for everyone."

Gabby's gaze dropped to her hand. The light, diamond ring she wore in the picture was gone. She had no memory of taking it off. A wave of panic rose in her throat. This woman knew something she didn't.

But then, the anger returned, hot and clean. This wasn't about the ring. This was about Adelyn's blatant territorial claim.

"You're right," Gabby said, her voice low and steady. "I'm not wearing my ring. Things are different now. But that's between me and Ryan, isn't it?" Her gaze met Adelyn's, unwavering. "I don't need your help to sort out my life, Adelyn. And Ryan's affairs is none of my business."

Adelyn laughed again, a sharper, more genuine sound this time. "Really? You've only been back for a day. Do you even know what you're doing? You don't know the first thing about politics, Gabby. This is a game you can't win."

Gabby's gaze met hers. She felt a surge of strength. She had no memory of her past, of Adelyn, or of the woman she used to be. But she had a new self now, a self who refused to be underestimated.

"Maybe you're right," Gabby said, a slow, confident smile spreading across her face. "Maybe I don't know the first thing about politics. But I do know this: a predator always underestimates their prey. And right now, Adelyn... you're making a big mistake."

Adelyn's smile faltered, her perfectly composed expression cracking for the first time. She had come to intimidate a flimsy socialite, but she was met with a woman who was a total stranger and a far more dangerous opponent. She stood up straight, her confidence wavering.

"Tell Ryan I stopped by," Adelyn said, her voice tight. She turned and walked out, her perfect posture a little less perfect than when she had come in.

Gabby leaned back in her chair, a long exhale leaving her lungs. She had won. The victory felt good, a small fire in her chest. But the adrenaline quickly faded, leaving her with a cold, hollow feeling. Adelyn's words about the wedding ring echoed in her mind. Gabby’s eyes dropped to her hand again. She ran her thumb over the empty spot where the ring should have been. It felt strange, like a missing limb.

She had no idea why it was gone. Had she taken it off in a fit of rage? Had Adryan? The idea that they were so disconnected that a symbol of their marriage could simply vanish without her knowing was a cold, hard truth. Adelyn’s casual mention of it proved that their problems were public, a well-known secret that everyone but the new Gabby was privy to.

She looked at the painting on the wall again. The woman in the portrait, Gabriella Halim, seemed so sure, so wise. But the woman sitting here, Gabby Lewis, was just a stranger in her own life, a pretender in a game she was just beginning to understand.

The victory over Adelyn felt hollow. It was a confrontation she hadn't started, a battle she was forced to fight. And as the evening grew darker, the walls of her office, once so full of warmth and hope, now felt like a lonely, isolated island.