Chapter 8

GABRIEL

Arthur Geller, a man in his forties, was the biggest womanizer I knew—a pervert and a cheapskate who treated young women as "targets" and never understood boundaries. Fortunately, his business acumen was his only redeeming quality; 4% of Whitlock's revenue came directly from him and his shell companies, which is why I dealt with him frequently.

To be fair, I never cared about his personal life outside the office—until I brought my wife there. Now, all I could think about were the things I'd do if he so much as looked at the girl I'd left outside.

Even though I was annoyed with Sofia, I wasn't blind. She was beautiful, more beautiful than most women I knew, and any man would find her attractive. I certainly did. But the thought of another man, especially Arthur, with her drove me insane. I couldn't even sit across from him.

I tapped my pen impatiently on the desk. As Arthur's eyes studied me, Peter shifted uncomfortably behind me.

"You seem in a hurry today," Arthur remarked.

"Just want to get this over with."

"You usually enjoy our business dealings," he mused. "What's the rush? Someone waiting at home?"

My eyes flickered to his. He knew about my marriage; everyone with internet access did. It had been ten days, and it was still headline news.

"Lily Grant, perhaps?" he pressed.

I stiffened. If looks could kill, Arthur would be dead. I forced a poker face. "Why don't we just wait quietly? There's no need for conversation while I retrieve a file."

"We're friends, Gabe."

"We're not," I said with a strained smile.

Peter stepped closer and whispered in my ear, "Sir, the driver called…"

"What? Did she leave already?" I thought about rolling my eyes.

"She's asleep."

"What?"

"She's asleep."

"I heard you, Peter!" I glared, and he stepped back. "Jesus." How old was this girl, ten? Who the hell sleeps in a car? It was cold outside, and I knew the driver wouldn't have the sense to turn on the heater.

I cleared my throat.

"Everything alright?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Yes…no, actually. I have a personal emergency. Would you mind if I picked up the file tomorrow?"

"Certainly," he nodded. I stood, unbuttoning my coat.

"Call beforehand," I said, shaking his hand. "And make sure the file is delivered." I left Arthur's office with Peter following, instructing him to remind Arthur's assistant if the file wasn't delivered by midday.

Peter took the office transport; I took my car. Seeing Sofia asleep with her legs draped over the tens-of-thousands-of-dollars leather seat, I almost cringed before sighing and shaking my head.

"Take us home," I told the driver. "And why is it so cold in here? Turn on the damn heater."

"Sir, you don't like…"

"Did I ask for your opinion?" I interrupted. I preferred employees who silently followed orders. That's what I paid them for. "Just drive. Home."

As the car warmed up and I loosened my coat, I watched Sofia sleep—longer than I care to admit—amused by how soundly she slept in a moving car.

SOFIA

I woke to a scent stronger and more masculine than any perfume I owned—which was odd, because I was in my room. My stomach rumbled; I felt nauseous and confused. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the car. With Gabriel.

Shit.

I sprang up, rushing outside. Luna was just about to knock.

"How did I get here?"

"Breakfast for you." She gestured to the tray in her hands. "You've been asleep for eleven hours. I thought you were dead."

I blinked. "How did I get here?"

"What?"

"I fell asleep in the car waiting for Gabriel, and I woke up here. So how did I get here?"

"Oh, that." Her cheeks flushed. "I don't know. I think the driver did?"

"What?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh. Okay, I'll make sure to thank him."

"No! I don't think you should do that!"

"Why not?"

"Sir never thanks his employees."

"Well, I'm not him, so…" I smiled meekly and took the tray.

Back in my room, I dropped onto the bed. The expensive scent made me think Gabriel had brought me back, but thanking him and apologizing for sleeping would be mortifying. I was glad it wasn't him.

After cursing my own sleepiness, I checked my emails. All embarrassment vanished when I saw a message from Wales. It was from Viktor Hart, and the word "accepted" quickly caught my eye. The salary was more than double my previous job.

On top of the world, I showered, ate breakfast, and got comfortable in my sweats. Having confirmed my start date of Monday, I went downstairs. It was only 8:00 AM.

"Is Gabriel home?" I asked Luna.

"No, he left a while ago," she said. "He was shouting on a call. Seemed like a really important meeting."

I wondered if this man ever slept.

"Oh. Okay. I'll be working from Monday, so this is the last day you'll see me at my peak of boredom," I joked.

She didn't smile. "Does Sir know you're going to be working?"

"No. But I'm sure he doesn't mind." Why would he? I wasn't working for money, just to keep busy. That's not something he could dictate. "I was thinking of painting today. I need some supplies from the market. Could someone get them for me?"

"Yes, the driver is taking someone to the supermarket. They wouldn't mind picking up your supplies."

"Perfect!" This was turning out to be a good day.

"Yeah?"

"I really think you should tell Sir about your work plans," she said timidly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why is it such…"

The doorbell rang, interrupting me. "That must be the driver," I said, heading to the door, followed by Luna. However, a maid opened it, revealing not the driver from last night, but…

A part of me wished it was my husband, but it wasn't. It was an unfamiliar man, but I didn't like the look in his eyes or the smug smile as he stepped uninvited into the house. "I'm Arthur Geller."