11

Rachael’s POV

(Continued)

I ignored the designer gift bag he was holding.

“You’re not going to let me in?”

“In your dreams, Michael.”

“It’s been a while since we last talked,” he said softly. “Like actually sat down and had a real conversation. Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”

I pursed my lips, glaring daggers at him. Ever since I left him on the night of our bachelorette party, Michael had made it his sole mission to “try to fix things.”

It had been six long years. Sometimes I caught myself foolishly thinking he had moved on-that he’d stopped spamming me with so many calls and texts I had to change my number, or stalk my socials.

But moments like this, showing up on my doorstep completely unannounced, was like a face slapping reminder that he was never going to change. He was never going to let it go.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“You.”

“That’s rich.”

“Mommy? You left the oven on!”

My stomach dropped straight to the floor.

I slammed the front door shut right in his face before dashing into the kitchen. Scooping Leah up in my arms, I leaned down, quickly switching off the dial on the oven before carrying her out into the hallway.

“Oh, sweetheart... you didn’t go near it, did you?”

She shook her head, then suddenly pointed her little finger at the space behind my shoulder.

“Who’s that?”

If my gaze could melt the skin off his face, he’d be a puddle on the floor. Michael was sitting on my living room sofa like he owned the damn place, casually tapping away on his phone. The moment I whipped around, his eyes flicked up.

“Hi,” he said, standing up and beaming warmly at Leah. “I’m a friend of your mommy and daddy. Wow, Rach... she’s the spitting image of him.”

I calmly set Leah down on her feet. “Leah, go upstairs and wash up, okay?”

She looked up and I knew she was watching me. I stilled my trembling hands, forcing a reassuring smile onto my face for her sake. She glanced back at Michael one last time and without another word, obediently ran up the stairs.

“You have the nerve to actually come in here? Into my home?” My fingers clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists.

Michael slowly closed the distance between us, his gaze made my skin crawl. “You better start talking, or so help me-”

“Are you aware Gabriel was extended an invitation to attend the Gold Spoon 50?” he interrupted smoothly.

The news hit me like a physical force. I was stunned, but it was suddenly replaced by a massive wave of pride. I knew how hard Gabe had worked for years to enter into that ultra-exclusive circle, and they had finally recognized him.

Forcing the most unbothered expression onto my face, I folded my arms over my chest. “So?”

“I want in.”

I wanted to burst out laughing in his face, but looking at his eyes, I realized he was dead serious. A cold, cruel smirk curled around my lips. “So that’s why you slithered into his office today? God, Michael... could you be any more pathetic?”

“I offered him a deal.”

“You offered him a deal. You barged into his office. Whatever sick games you're playing are strictly between you and him.”

“Rach, it’s been six years. I know you hate me. You have every fucking right to,” he said, his voice dropping into that pleading tone I used to fall for. “I know you haven't wanted to set eyes on me since that night. I know you’ll probably never forgive me. But you’re the only person who can actually get through to him.”

I immediately took a step back as he tried to bridge the gap, maintaining a safe distance between us before folding my arms across my chest again.

I had every reason to hate him. He was my first love, but he was also my first real heartbreak.

Unfortunately, I knew Michael better than anyone. I knew he never willingly let go of anything he considered his. And I knew his sudden return to the city barely months after Gabriel’s and my divorce was finalized was no cosmic coincidence.

Years could change a person, sure, but when it came to Michael Barnes? I’d rather eat horse shit than believe he’d actually changed into a better man.

“Why do you want in so badly this time around anyway?” I sneered. “You’ve been getting invitations for years. The one year you don't get one, you won't die. Get over yourself.”

“It’s important, Rach. And I promised him that if I go as his guest, I’ll sign the buyout and leave for Japan. Forever.”

Japan?

“Just hold on, give me a second-I need to call the hospital and ask for my pacifier, since apparently I was born yesterday.” I let out a harsh scoff. “You really expect us to buy that crap? After terrorizing our marriage for six years, you think we’re actually going to believe you’ll leave us alone forever?”

He stared down at me with an unreadable, stony expression. “What proof do you need?”

“For you to go fuck yourself.”

“Rach-“

“Leave my house, Michael,” I pressed my lips together into a thin line. “Or so help me God.”

Right on cue, my phone rang loudly from the sofa cushion. We both looked down simultaneously as Gabriel flashed across the screen.

“First he tells you about me coming to his office, and now he’s calling you on a Saturday evening...” Michael taunted, his lips twisting. “If I wasn't so sure of what I saw with my own two eyes today, I’d swear you two never actually got divorced.”

I was tempted to demand what he meant by that, but I was already marching toward the front door, yanking it wide open with a blank face.

“Pretty woman. High cheekbones, soft features. I think her name was Amanda,” Michael murmured as he sauntered toward the exit. “They looked so in love. Honestly, Rach, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day Gabe looked at a woman like he looked at you back then.”

He stopped on the threshold, turning his head back to look at me one last time.

“One way or another, I am going to get into that event. I’m offering you a silver platter to get rid of me for good. Take it or leave it.”

The second he crossed over, I slammed the door shut in his face. I immediately leaned my back against it, clutching my tight chest with trembling hands.

Without hesitating, I dashed straight for the sofa, snatched up the phone, and dialed Gabriel’s number back.

The moment he picked up, I didn't even let him speak.

“Gabe. We need to talk.”