Chapter 6

Sofia's POV

"Where did you put the funds?" Hector, Gabriel’s father, nearly had a vein pop in anger as he tried to get Gabriel to confess where the missing money had gone, which was meant for the expansion of the Main Campus of Romano University. We were in the hotel room of Daddy Hector, where Gabriel's birthday party was being held. This was supposed to be the night when he would hand over the company to him.

But the tension hanging in the air was thick with something far more dangerous.

"Are you just going to sit there and say nothing?" Hector’s voice was low, but his anger was palpable, vibrating through the room. He was seething, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze burning through Gabriel. My own breath caught in my chest as I watched the scene unfold.

Gabriel remained silent, his eyes never meeting his father’s. The silence in the room stretched unbearably long before Mom Sylvia stepped in, her voice steady but laced with anxiety.

"Hector, stop," she said, her hand gently resting on his arm. "This is your son's night. Are you really going to let your anger ruin it? Don’t let your guests see him with bruises on his face because of your temper." Her words hung in the air, her attempt to diffuse the tension with a calm voice, but I could sense the strain in her tone.

For a moment, Hector’s rage flickered—he hesitated. His body tensed as if every muscle was wound tightly. Then, with a heavy exhale, he pulled his fist back from Gabriel’s face, his fury still simmering but controlled.

"I’m postponing your takeover of the business, Gab. I don’t care what you did, I don’t like it." Hector’s words struck like a blow to Gabriel’s chest. It was a sharp, cruel disappointment, and I could see Gabriel’s shock in his eyes as if he hadn’t expected his father to take such drastic action.

"We’re not done," Hector added, his voice cold and final, before walking out of the room with Mom by his side.

The door closed with a dull thud, leaving Gabriel and me alone. The room was suffocating with the weight of the unresolved conflict, and I could feel the strain between us like a palpable force. I sat quietly beside him, unsure of what to say or how to comfort him. Part of me wanted to say something, but nothing felt right. Instead, I just wanted him to know that, despite everything, I was here for him. I reached out, my hand resting on his shoulder, hoping the gesture would bridge the distance.

"It’s okay, hon. Everything will work out," I whispered, my voice soft, meant to soothe.

Without warning, he jerked away from my touch, and before I could process what happened, his hand flew across my face in a sharp slap. The force of it left me reeling, the sting spreading across my cheek like fire.

"You don’t understand what’s happening, Sofia. Just shut the fuck up," Gabriel shouted, his voice raw with frustration and anger. His words were a slap in their own right, cutting deeper than the physical pain.

I staggered back, my hand instinctively pressing against my cheek, feeling the heat of the slap still burning. I could barely think, the sharpness of his words echoing in my ears, the shock of his sudden outburst leaving me breathless.

As quickly as the storm had come, he composed himself, as though nothing had just happened. He straightened his posture, his expression cold, distant. "The party is about to start," he said, his voice flat. "Fix yourself."

Without another word, he walked out, leaving me standing there, numb. My fingers lingered on the spot where he’d struck me, still feeling the weight of his hand on my skin.

I spent a few moments collecting myself, wiping away the tears that stained my face before I forced myself to step out of the hotel room and head toward the banquet hall. I tried to push everything that had just happened out of my mind, to force a smile, but the truth was, I felt empty, drained. I couldn’t carry it all anymore. As I walked, I spotted my parents entering the banquet hall, but the thought of facing them was too much. I was too tired—too tired of this life, of all the pain and confusion that kept piling up. And then, the tears came again. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, so I ran. I ran out of the hall, desperate to escape.

I made my way to the rooftop, and when I got there, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I broke down. The weight of everything was suffocating, and I wondered—Is there even a way out of this? I felt as if I was standing at the edge of something, but all I wanted was to disappear, because when I’m with Gab, it feels like I’m already gone. Already dead inside.

I climbed up to the low concrete railing of the rooftop, my mind made up. I was ready to end it all. I didn’t care anymore about the scandal this would bring to my family. They never cared about me anyway. As I stood there, staring down from the 50th floor, I felt the cold rush of wind against my skin, ready to make my final decision.

But then, out of nowhere, I felt a firm hand grip my wrist, pulling me back just before I could jump. The world spun around me as I was yanked into an embrace, a strong, steady presence wrapping around me.

"No, no, no. Please, you can’t do this."  The voice was low, urgent. His grip tightens around me, like he’s holding onto the only thing that matters in this moment.

I looked up, my vision blurry from the tears, trying to focus on the person who had stopped me.

"Mr. Montague?" I whispered, almost in disbelief.

I couldn’t believe it. What was he doing here?