Chapter 125
Chapter 125:
Wesley’s car offered generous space, yet the air inside seemed saturated with his presence—an unshakable, magnetic force that pressed in on Gabriela until it was almost stifling.
She sat quietly for a long while before she finally gathered the nerve to murmur, “Thanks for stepping in earlier, Mr. Moss p>
Her tone was soft, her posture modest, which earned her a quiet, low chuckle from him. “And what exactly am I being thanked for?” he asked, a trace of amusement curling at the edge of his voice.
“For pretending to be my… boyfriend,” she admitted.
Without his intervention, she would have been left defenseless against Josh’s emotional outburst. She could only bring herself to utter it in a voice full of courtesy and sincerity.
Wesley slid her a sidelong glance, the motion slow and deliberate, before giving the faintest nod. His profile, carved in the cool light, carried an imposing elegance that made him seem even more unreachable.
Gabriela couldn’t quite put her finger on why his mood had darkened so abruptly, and the shift left her slightly on edge. Still, she ventured with quiet concern, “Weren’t you and Mr. Clarke supposed to be in Athea for a project p>
“Just stepped off the plane hours ago,” Wesley said.
What he didn’t mention was how he’d crammed his schedule into an exhausting blur just to shave a day off the trip—enduring Billy’s complaints and the think tank’s protests the entire time. The instant he touched down, he’d swapped into the tailored suit she’d picked for him, headed straight to the Deluxe Hotel, and let everyone see, without question, that she was his girlfriend.
Yet even with that unspoken declaration, the little fool still clung to formality. Catching the faint weariness in his eyes made Gabriela’s chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache. She meant to have felt that way—not given her place—but she did.
When her gaze slid toward him again, she realized her coat and his suit were almost a perfect match, as if they’d dressed for each other without knowing it. A sharp breath snagged in her throat.
𝗝o𝗂𝗇 𝘁𝗁𝘦 c𝘰𝘮𝘮u𝗇іt𝘺 𝗮t.с𝗼𝘮
The gown she’d worn to the wedding, the one she’d thought was a casual favor from Brenden, had actually been handed to her by Wesley himself. Maybe it had never been Brenden’s gift at all.
She opened her mouth to ask, but the car eased to a stop before she could speak. “Get out,” Wesley said, his voice low but firm.
Stepping onto the pavement, Gabriela blinked in surprise at the stretch of open sea before them. “Why bring me here?” she asked, curiosity threading her tone.
Wesley’s gaze dropped to meet hers. He had spent years moving through glittering circles, surrounded by elegant women draped in designer gowns. Yet he couldn’t ignore how Gabriela stood apart—her beauty sharpened by those clear, luminous eyes that held no pretense.
A salty breeze teased at the hem of her skirt, sending it swaying, and her faintly furrowed brows gave her an almost childlike innocence that tugged at something deep in his chest. This was the woman he had set his heart on.
He took a step toward her, but the sky dimmed and a fine drizzle began to fall, the air turning crisp in an instant.
Gabriela, who moments ago had been stiff with nerves, brightened suddenly. “I’ll get the umbrella!” she blurted, her voice laced with purpose. Ever since she’d become his personal secretary, she’d made it a habit to stash an umbrella in the trunk of his car. She only hoped no one had taken it out.
Hurrying over, she popped the trunk. Relief washed over her—the umbrella was still there.
She returned to Wesley, the handle gripped firmly in her hand. Rising on tiptoe, she tilted it over his head, her gaze lifting to meet his as the rain whispered down around them. The wind roared in from the sea, nearly yanking the umbrella from her grasp, but Gabriela tightened her hold, determined to shield Wesley from the pelting rain.
She might have looked delicate, yet she stood braced against the storm, refusing to yield an inch. Wesley reached over, taking the handle from her while his other hand slipped around her right arm, steadying her against the wind.
He wore no cologne, yet as he leaned in, she caught a fresh, clean scent from him—cool, yet threaded with an unshakable authority that made her pulse jump.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
“M-Mr. Moss… let me do it,” she stammered, reaching for the handle again. A boss who paid her such a generous salary wasn’t supposed to be the one holding the umbrella over her head.
“Why are you shaking?” Wesley’s brows drew together, his voice carrying a husky edge. “Come here. Don’t let the rain soak you p>
Gabriela instinctively lifted her gaze and was caught by the unwavering intensity in his eyes.