Chapter Six The Meet

Gabriel’s POV

I was already dressed for this meetup, but the anticipation gnawed at me. Ever since I received Natasha's text with the location, I couldn’t rest my mind.

Indeed, I wronged Rebecca, but I had learned my lesson: not all that glitters is gold, and not all stones are worthless. Emmanuella was the gem I thought worth pursuing, but she turned out to be an empty barrel, unable to give anything of value. The only thing she knew how to do best was to demand for money and to sleep with me like a prostitute.

If I could turn back the hands of time, I wouldn’t have betrayed Rebecca like that. It’s not too late to win her back, right?

I wore a suit perfectly fitted for this day. My tie was one of the colors I knew Rebecca loved most—a perfect shade of blue. My Italian shoes were sharp and black, gleaming like coal.

Checking myself out in the mirror, I knew I looked handsome. So handsome that I was confident if Rebecca set her eyes on me, she’d easily fall back for me. This was my chance to win her back, wasn’t it?

Just as I finished dressing, Emmanuella stepped into the room. She loved it when I wore a suit. “Ready for another conference?” she asked, her smile bright as she fell onto the bed, checking me out from head to toe.

I recognized the question. With my experience with her, I could tell it was a trap—a ploy for her billings again. Each time I had a conference to attend, she’d smile, compliment me, and then follow up with, “I’ll need you to buy me some Gucci and Valentino when you come back. I need them for a party I’ve been invited to.”

When she said this that morning, I wished with all my heart to hear Rebecca forgive everything I had done to her. Just then, Emmanuella would see how a gentle dove could turn into a roaring lion in an instant.

I would serve her a divorce letter without thinking twice. No one could stop me.

However, when she said this and I didn’t respond, she rose from the bed and came to me immediately. She knew how to manipulate me; whenever I resisted her demands, she’d come close, take my hands to fondle her breasts, then guide my other hand to the middle of her thighs, forcing me to touch her already wet vagina.

“No!” I insisted this time, my eyes locking onto hers. I was firm in my decision. The games she played to make me bend to her will were over. I wouldn’t satisfy her wants anymore.

I grabbed my briefcase and left the room, my heart racing. I got into my car and drove to the address she’d sent me.

Arriving at the restaurant, I realized it was indeed one of the five-star establishments in the city. Just their snacks cost over two thousand dollars, and the lobsters were priced higher than the annual revenue of many average earners in Mandena.

Only a few people came to eat here, and I certainly wasn’t one of them. If I started visiting this place often, I’d go broke in five years. Now that my company was on the verge of bankruptcy, I couldn’t afford to take such risks.

The thought gnawed at me. If Rebecca had chosen this place for our meetup, she would undoubtedly order something extravagant, and I would be the one to foot the bill.

I sighed deeply. This was a whole new level of worry. Yet, I needed Rebecca more than anything. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to order a meal costing over ten thousand dollars just for this meetup, right?

I was still lost in thought when I suddenly saw her arrive.

The restaurant’s glass walls allowed anyone sitting inside to see outside, while those outside couldn’t peer in. I’d heard that Rebecca had rented out the entire restaurant as a VIP for our meetup, which meant I was the only customer. It confirmed that the limousine parked outside and the woman stepping out of it, with the chauffeur respecting her to the core, was none other than Rebecca.

When her figure stepped out of the limo, I couldn’t deny I had been wrong all this time.

“She is so beautiful,” I muttered, not realizing the words escaped my lips. Indeed, real beauty lies in money. No one is ugly; they’re just broke. Had I showered my love and attention on Rebecca, I would have seen the truth: she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met—more stunning than Emmanuella.

As she walked into the restaurant, approaching me in that elegant gown, heels, gloves, and hat, I easily mistook her for royalty. Such grace, such elegance, such nobility were rare. I prayed for just one thing:

“I forgive you, Gabriel. We can go back to the lovers we used to be.”

However, when she finally reached me, taking her seat without acknowledging the effort I had put into looking good, she beckoned to the waiter while I remained standing.

“Bring me a bottle of wine, please,” she said firmly.

“You look beautiful, Rebecca,” I exclaimed, unable to hide my admiration.

Yet, she remained unfazed, as if my words had no effect on her. “Have your seat, Mr. Moretti,” she replied, her tone devoid of emotion.