Gabriel’s POVThe moment I ended the call with Edward, I grabbed my keys and strode toward the garage, my mind a storm of calculations and frustration.She had insisted on leaving.I had been on my way. I had told Edward to not leave the restaurant before I got there. But Aria, being stubborn and impossible, had decided otherwise.I yanked open the driver’s side door and slid in, the engine roaring to life beneath my grip. As I pulled out of the driveway, I was already dialing Jonathan.He picked up immediately.“I need you tracking a vehicle. Grey sedan, following my wife’s car. Edward just confirmed it.”I couldn’t stop myself before I said it. My wife.There was no hesitation. “I’m on it.”“Get me everything. Were they waiting before she left? Did they tail her from the restaurant?”A few clicks on Jonathan’s end. Then: “They were parked a block away before she even stepped outside.”My jaw tightened. That confirmed it. This wasn’t a coincidence.“They’re taking the alternate route
Gabriel’s POVI exhaled, rolling my shoulders back before turning to her.I pulled open the passenger door, and the first thing that hit me was the sharp, acidic scent of vomit. Aria sat stiffly, her hands clenched into tight fists on her lap, her body tense. Her face was turned away from me, her breath shallow, and even in the dim light, I could see the way her shoulders shook ever so slightly.She was embarrassed.“Edward, take the car home,” I ordered, already reaching for her. “She’s coming with me.”Edward nodded.I didn’t give her the chance to speak. Instead, I reached for her—gently, but firmly. “Come here.”She hesitated, her pride forcing her to resist, but I didn’t let her. I slid one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back, and lifted her out of the car, cradling her against my chest. She weighed nothing. Her breath hitched.“I—”“Quiet.”Her body went rigid, but she didn’t fight me as I carried her toward my car. The scent of vomit lingered between us, but I di
Gabriel’s POV The ride home was silent. Aria had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, curled up in the passenger seat with my jacket wrapped around her. She looked exhausted. Frail, even. But at least she wasn’t shivering anymore. I kept one hand on the wheel and the other adjusting the jacket over her every now and then, making sure she was warm. My driving was slower than usual—not just because I didn’t want to wake her, but because I didn’t want her panicking again. I’d seen it happen before. I wasn’t about to let it happen again tonight. As I pulled into the mansion’s driveway, my phone buzzed in the cupholder. Grandma. I exhaled sharply before answering. “You’re home?” she asked, skipping the pleasantries. “Yes.” I cut the engine. She sighed. “How is she?” “Sleeping.” I glanced at Aria, who was still motionless in the seat beside me. “She had a panic attack.” There was a pause. “I heard,” she said, voice quieter. “Jonathan called me.” Of course, he did.
Gabriel’s POV The second Aria landed on me, I knew I was in trouble. It happened so fast. One second, she was pushing at my chest, demanding I put her down, and the next, she miscalculated her step, her balance betraying her. Instead of landing on the bed, she crashed into me. Neither of us moved. My hands shot out, gripping her waist instinctively as she landed on my lap, knees on either side of my thighs. A sharp breath left me as I looked up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hands clutched my shoulders for balance, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt like she was anchoring herself. She froze. So did I. For a split second, I forgot how to breathe. The warmth of her body, the soft press of her weight against me—it sent a dangerous jolt through my system. A feeling I hadn’t allowed myself in years. Something dark curled inside me. I wanted to devour her. I wanted to claim every shaky breath, every hesitant gaze, every moment she spent not realizing wh
Aria’s POV This was the second time I’d gone to sleep on the couch and woken up in the bed. Gabriel had carried me. Again. I glanced around the room, half-expecting him to be standing there, watching me like the control freak he was, but he wasn’t. Where had he gone so early this morning? Well, at least this meant I could have a moment to myself. I sat up, pushing the blanket off me, and glanced over at the couch. It was empty, like I had never been there in the first place. No pillow, no blanket, nothing. He hadn’t just moved me, he had made sure there was no trace of my stubbornness. My gaze flicked to the nightstand, where a tray of food sat next to a bottle of pills. Scrambled eggs, toast, and a glass of orange juice. Neat and intentional. Next to it was a small folded note. I reached for the note, unfolding it with slow fingers. It read: “Eat. Take your meds.” A part of me knew I should just eat the damn food. I was hungry. But the other more stubborn part of me still
Gabriel’s POVThe scent of damp concrete and stale air filled the basement beneath my private villa. The room was dimly lit, a single overhead bulb casting shadows against the rough walls. The man we had caught; Aria’s stalker, was tied to a steel chair, his wrists bound behind him, his head slumped forward. Blood trailed from his split lip, staining the collar of his shirt.Jonathan stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the prisoner. To his right, Owen, the torturer, leaned against a table lined with tools. The guard, Silas, remained by the door, hands clasped behind his back, his stance rigid.I stepped forward, my footsteps echoing. The man barely lifted his head.“Has he talked?” I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.Owen sighed, rubbing his knuckles. “Not a word. Stubborn bastard.”Jonathan exhaled sharply. “We’ve tried everything. Maybe he’s just a hired hand who doesn’t know much.”I wasn’t convinced. I crouched in front of the man, gripping h
Gabriel’s POV I didn’t knock. I didn’t wait. The second I stepped into the lounge, I found him exactly where Edward had directed me. Ha sat there lounging like he owned the world, a cigar between his fingers, a glass of whiskey on the table beside him. He looked up when I entered, not in fear, not in surprise—just mild amusement. “Well, well,” he mused, taking a slow drag from his cigar. “Took you long enou—” I lunged. The force of my punch knocked him off the chair, sending him sprawling. The cigar dropped, rolling onto the floor, the whiskey glass shattered against the table’s edge. I was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the ground. His head bounced against the marble with a dull thud, but even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, he had the audacity to grin. “So you care about her now?” he rasped, spitting blood onto the floor between us. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” I twisted his collar tighter, cutting off his breath. “Y
Aria’s POVI woke up to the soft hum of silence, the kind that only existed in places untouched by chaos. The bed beneath me was massive, the sheets crisp and unfamiliar, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. Then it all came rushing back. Gabriel bringing me here last night, saying it wasn’t safe to stay at the mansion. The family mansion. He had always stayed there for his grandmother’s sake, but with her out of the country, there was nothing tying him to that place anymore. Nothing except me, and now, even I had been removed from it. I sat up slowly, taking in the space around me. Gabriel wasn’t in bed, we had slept together in the same bed. The bedroom was modern, with high ceilings and sleek furnishings, every inch of it screaming understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the room, revealing the distant skyline of San Francisco. The air here was different and lighter, easier to breathe. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.But safet
Gabriel's POVI didn’t say a word as the jet took off. The conversation with my father sat heavily in my mind, but I forced it aside. For now.I leaned back in my seat, exhaling slowly. The cabin lights were dim, casting a muted glow over the polished wood and leather. The hum of the engines was steady, almost soothing.Then, almost instinctively, I reached into my pocket.The familiar weight of the pocket watch pressed against my palm, cool and solid. I flicked it open with my thumb. The soft click echoed louder than it should have in the silence.And there she was, her pretty face staring back at me. My Ari, my angel. The picture was taken in our bedroom, a moment I’d stolen when she had no idea. She was in her natural state, completely unaware of the camera in my hand. Her hair was a little wild from sleep, and her eyes had that soft, distant look that made her so damn beautiful. It was a simple shot, but I loved it, because it was her, in the most authentic and unguarded way. I ha
Gabriel's POVThe silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The air in my father's living room felt heavier than before, like the walls had closed in around us.I forced myself to breathe. To stay still. To absorb what I had just heard.Diego was family.I sat down, my body moving before my mind could fully catch up. “Explain,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.Andrew didn’t speak immediately. He reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table, poured himself another glass, and stared into the amber liquid like it held the past itself. “You think you know the Deveraux family,” he said. “But you don’t. Not really.”I said nothing.He let out a slow breath. “This goes back to Richard,” he began. “My father. Your grandfather.”I knew that name well. The man who built the Deveraux empire. The man everyone claimed was ruthless, brilliant, untouchable.Andrew continued, “Richard had an affair while on a business trip to Mexico. A woman, who wasn’t just some mist
Gabriel's POVTCA wasn’t new to me. I had trained here for years, stepping into the ring whenever I needed an outlet. Back then, it was about control, about reminding myself that power wasn’t just about wealth or influence, it was about knowing I could end a fight before it even started.But now, it wasn’t about control.It was about survival.I adjusted my stance, muscles coiled with tension as Cole, my personal trainer, circled me. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, assessing, calculating. There was no sympathy in his eyes, no wasted words. Just the demand for perfection."You’re too slow," he said flatly. "Again."TCA wasn’t a regular gym. It was where professionals trained; fighters, bodyguards, men who understood that losing wasn’t an option.There were no influencers shadowboxing in front of mirrors, no weekend warriors pretending to be something they weren’t. This was a place for men who needed to be ready for war.I wasn’t new to combat, but this wasn’t about street fights or bru
Gabriel’s POVDominic’s update came in like clockwork.Aria had taken the promotion. No hesitation. No second-guessing. She thought it was luck. The right place, the right time, the perfect opportunity falling into her hands. And why wouldn’t she? That was the world I wanted her to live in. A world where doors opened for her effortlessly, where she could step into the future she deserved without ever knowing whose hands had cleared the path.Her brother’s scholarship had come through. Full ride. Mentorship, books, everything covered. Another twist of fate in her mind. Another reason to believe life had finally started working in her favor.I leaned back, exhaling slowly. She was happy. She was thriving. And for now, she was safe.I should have been satisfied. I should have let it be enough. But it wasn’t. It never would be. I still wasn’t breathing right.Because I wasn’t there. Because I wasn’t the one she was coming home to at the end of the day, the one she was smiling at when she
Aria's POVThe walk to work was peaceful, the kind of morning that made me grateful for this change. The air was crisp, the streets quieter than what I was used to, and for once, I didn’t feel like I was constantly racing against something I couldn’t see.Lennox & Co. Publishing was not the biggest publishing house in the country, but it was reputable, respected. It had an impressive catalog of bestsellers, a growing influence in the industry, and most importantly, a work culture that wasn’t suffocating. Here, creativity thrived. Ideas were encouraged, not dismissed. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was in a space where I could breathe.As I pushed through the glass doors, the familiar hum of morning activity greeted me. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, blending with the faint aroma of paper and ink. Editors and assistants moved around with purpose, some already deep in conversations about manuscripts and market trends.I had barely settled at my desk when I h
GABRIEL’S POVLetting her go was supposed to protect her. That was the only reason I did it. I told myself that if I walked away, if I created enough distance, she would be safe. But it had been two months, and I was lying to myself if I thought I had ever truly let her go.I wasn’t there with her. I wasn’t beside her when she woke up or when she fell asleep, but I still knew everything. Where she lived. Where she worked. Who she spoke to. What time she left her apartment in the morning. What time she returned. The smallest details of her life reached me because I made sure they did.It wasn’t about control. It was about protection.Aria thought she had a fresh start. A new city. A new job. A life away from me.But there was no such thing as away when it came to her.I knew everything.I knew she had gone back to Colorado, back to the only family she had left. I knew she lived in a small apartment a few blocks from her workplace, in a neighborhood that was safe but not safe enough for
Aria’s POVIt had been exactly two months since that night.Two months since I had gasped for breath, my body thrashing against the weight of water pulling me under. Since my lungs burned, my chest clenched, my limbs flailed uselessly in the cold grip of the pool. I had never learned how to swim. The moment I hit the water, panic took over, swallowing every rational thought. I could still remember the way my pulse had hammered in my ears, the desperate way I had kicked and clawed at nothing, the helplessness of realizing I couldn’t save myself.Then hands. Strong, steady hands cutting through the water, pulling me up, dragging me toward the surface. Air rushed into my lungs in sharp, painful gulps the moment I broke free from the depths. I had coughed, sputtering, gripping onto the stranger who had saved me as if my life depended on it because it had. I never got his name. Never saw his face clearly through the haze of fear and chlorine-stung eyes. By the time my friends arrived, brea
Aria’s POVTime blurred in Nicole’s apartment. Days and nights folded into each other, indistinguishable. I wasn’t counting them. I barely acknowledged their passing. I simply moved through them, existing in a cycle of forced normalcy.Wake up.Eat when they made me.Sleep when exhaustion became heavier than the ache in my chest.Repeat.The world outside moved on without me. But in here, in the warm cocoon of Nicole’s home, I was frozen in place.I didn’t cry. Not in front of them. Not when Liv cracked jokes that were funnier in her head than out loud. Not when Jenna threw on ridiculous reality shows, hoping for an eye roll or even a scoff from me. Not even when Nicole who was always effortlessly put together, sat cross-legged on the floor in sweats, painting my nails in silence because she knew words wouldn’t fix this.They didn’t let me sink completely.They hovered, filling the space around me with warmth, chatter, and relentless attempts to pull me back into the world.And tonigh
Gabriel's POVMorning comes like a slow, merciless execution.The sheets beside me are cold. The space where she had once been—where her warmth had lingered hours ago—is empty now. I stare at it for too long, my body still, my mind awake but unwilling to move. Maybe if I stay like this, if I don’t breathe too deep, the weight in my chest won’t crush me whole.But reality isn’t kind. It never is.Aria is gone.The realization is a sharp, unforgiving blade. I told myself last night that this was necessary, that this was the only way. I had made my choice. And yet, the silence she left behind feels like a living thing, curling around me, digging its claws in.I exhale through my nose, forcing my body upright. The world will talk. The media will speculate. That’s the least of my concerns.Because as long as Aria is still my wife, she’ll never stop being a target.I knew this the moment I saw the tattoo on the man who tried to take her. The same tattoo Antonia had. The same one I’d seen be