Chapter 3: A Terrible Liar

Gabriel's movements froze, his face contorting with rage.

He stood, meticulously wiping his fingers with a wet wipe, his expression smoothing into a chilling calm.

"But you're wet." His dark eyes boring into me, making my face burn.

"Get out," he hissed, the words barely audible yet sending a shiver down my spine.

I was speechless, only managing to silently straighten my clothes. The buttons on my shirt were mostly torn off, leaving only one intact. I knotted the bottom of the shirt, making it somewhat presentable. But the front gaped open, revealing my black lace bra and the swell of my breasts.  I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover myself.

"Your father gave me an hour to bring you home. We have forty minutes left," I stated, my tone professional.

"That's your job, not mine," he retorted, sinking back into the sofa. His pants were still unzipped, the white fabric of his shorts straining against the prominent bulge beneath.

I knew he was doing it on purpose, humiliating me.

But time was ticking by. I knew the consequences of failing Harrison's task: a harsh reprimand at best, a beating with a cane at worst.

Taking a deep breath, I softened my tone. "Gabe, please, come home with me."

I was close to begging. Even if Gabriel was Harrison's only son, defying the notoriously ruthless Mafia boss wouldn't be easily forgiven.

I didn't want his stubbornness to drag us both into trouble.

A click echoed as Gabriel lit a cigarette, holding it loosely between his lips, his head tilted as he watched me.

He exhaled a plume of smoke, the question seemingly casual. "Camille, how often have you fucked with that old man?"

My heart clenched, a sharp, fleeting pain.

He wore a half-smile, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and a chilling certainty.

"If I tell you, will you come with me?"

He grinned, a wide, almost innocent smile. For a fleeting moment, I saw the carefree boy from ten years ago.

"Yes. You answer, and I'll go back to see my father." He exhaled another cloud of smoke, this time directly in my face, his expression arrogant and dangerous.

I couldn't dodge it, the smoke engulfing me, making me cough and my eyes water.

"No," I replied calmly, wiping away my tears."I haven't slept with him."

In the swirling smoke, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Tch!" he scoffed. "Am I supposed to believe that?"

"You asked and I answered. Now you have to keep your promise. We only have thirty minutes left. If we're late, you won't escape his punishment either."  

Yes, as long as I answered, he had to come with me. I didn't need to guarantee the truth of my answer.  

Gabriel hadn't been on his guard at all.

He must have realized he'd been tricked. He was silent for a long moment, only taking deep drags on his cigarette until it burned down to the filter, which he extinguished in the ashtray.

Then, he casually spread his legs, lifting his chin towards me. "Help me with my pants, and I'll go back with you." He was sprawled on the sofa, looking like a drunk who could barely move.

His zipper was still undone, the prominent bulge beneath his white underwear still visible.

I hesitated, watching his knowing smile. I was wary of what he might do if I helped him with his pants.

But time was running out.

I glanced at my watch, swallowing hard, and half-knelt beside his legs.

"You know," I said, trying to make conversation to ease the awkwardness, "it's better for both of us if you cooperate, right?"

He didn't answer, remaining in his drunken stupor.

I tugged at his waistband. His erection was caught on the zipper. I carefully lifted and adjusted the fabric, trying to avoid touching him.

My face was close to his groin, the scent of his hormones enveloping me, making me flush from head to toe.

The more I tried to hurry, the clumsier my fingers became, and the longer it took.

After several attempts, perhaps because he wasn't cooperating, I couldn't get the zipper up. I leaned back on the sofa, head bowed, frustrated.

"Forget it. Do whatever you want."

He was deliberately toying with me, but I wasn't going to play his game. Let him face the consequences.

As I was about to get up and report my failure, Gabriel shifted. "Not going to try again? I imagine the old man's punishments for you aren't so simple."

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know what awaited me, but I knew I'd be afraid.

I bent down again, tugging at his pants and zipper, maneuvering the hard bulge inside with my hand. It was done in seconds.

Gabriel made a soft ’tsk’ sound, a smug smile spreading across his face. "You're quite the tease. Getting right to the point."

I didn't reply, grabbing his belt from the side and fastening it. I stood up, taking a few steps back.

Gabriel glanced down, satisfied, and stood up.

I grabbed a wet wipe from the table, wiping my face and neck, smoothing down my shirt. Then I followed him out of the VIP room.

In the elevator, the mirror reflected our faces.

I was like a statue, my face expressionless.

Gabriel leaned against the wall, his gaze drifting to my chest.

I was well-proportioned, with a narrow waist and ample breasts. The deep cleavage of my black bra was visible through the unbuttoned shirt, along with several fresh, obvious red marks – he'd left them there.

I couldn't imagine being seen like this, but I was powerless to change it. I could only grit my teeth and pretend I didn't care.

Gabriel stared at me for a few seconds, then looked away from my chest with a look of disgust.

A second before the elevator doors opened, his black suit jacket was draped over my shoulders.

"A little discretion for my stepmother wouldn't go amiss," he drawled.

I couldn't refuse his jacket. I didn't want to walk out like this, inviting countless whispers and rumors.

In the lobby downstairs, his friends were still there. They watched me and Gabriel with gossipy eyes.

The two cat-girls' gazes, however, were fixed on the men's jacket I was wearing, their expressions a mix of jealousy and resentment.

No one greeted us. Gabriel and I left Noir Seduction, one after the other.

Back at the Bennett mansion halfway up the hill, I stopped at the foot of the stairs.  

"You have two minutes left to get back before the hour," I said. "Hurry. Your father's waiting for you in the study, and he didn't seem to be in a good mood today."

With that, I turned and left for my own room. My emotions a mess.

I desperately wished he would call out to me from behind, say just a few words, but at the same time, I was terrified that he might.

Fortunately, he didn't.

Yes, I also lived in Gabriel's father's house.

The Bennett mansion staff and the company employees all called me Miss Dawson. I knew it was just for Harrison's sake. Behind my back, they had other names for me – siren, bitch, and worse. Nothing flattering, that was for sure.

Someone used to give me a better nickname, calling me "Ka-mi-" in a playful, sing-song voice.

That someone was Gabriel.

But that was a long time ago.

Before we were separated by those two lives.