Chapter 347
Chapter 347:
That tiny shift in her expression knocked the breath out of Stewart.
Too warm. Too close.
He tugged at his collar. “Feels stuffy in here. I’m going to get some air p>
He stepped onto the balcony and lit a cigarette, fingers not entirely steady.
What was that just now?
His heart had actually reacted to her.
He told himself it was nothing. He’d kept his distance from women for too long. Any beautiful woman standing that close would have stirred something. That was all.
By the time he returned, the air had cleared — and so had his face.
Gabriela had already shaped the fractured section into a defined structure. The outline was back. The lost geometry was reappearing under her hands.
Impressed, Stewart nodded. “I told you. Fixing this would be a piece of cake for you p>
Gabriela paused, fingers still resting on the base of the model. “Did you know the other architect personally p>
𝖠𝖽𝖽і𝖼𝗍i𝘃𝘦 𝘴𝘁𝗈r𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝗼𝗻
“We met several times,” Stewart replied. His smile softened with memory. “Gentle soul. Still in college. The kind every young woman falls for p>
“He…” Gabriela’s grip tightened around the delicate clock hand she was holding. The sharp edge pressed into her palm hard enough to pierce skin, but she didn’t seem to feel it.
Her voice fell to nearly a whisper. “His name is Allan Espinoza, right? What happened to him p>
Stewart’s expression shifted into confusion. “He’s dead. Surely you remember that p>
Dead.
The word slammed into Gabriela, knocking the air from her lungs.
Her fist clenched on instinct, and the sharp clock hand in her palm drove in deeper. Blood welled along the edge.
A broken image hit her—someone in a white shirt, clean and bright, his smile warm and gentle.
Then pain detonated behind her eyes.
Gabriela gasped and bent forward, both hands flying to her head as if she could hold her skull together. A low, strangled cry tore out of her.
Alarm cut through Stewart’s composure. “Gabriela, what’s wrong p>
Her vision fractured. The room tilted. The pressure in her head spiked to a blinding scream, and then the sound actually left her throat.
She collapsed.
Stewart lunged forward, catching her before she hit the floor. His voice snapped through the office, sharp and urgent. “Call an ambulance p>
His secretary froze, stunned — she had never seen Stewart lose control. Hands shaking, she grabbed her phone and dialed emergency services.
In the hospital, after a round of examinations, the doctor finally spoke. “It was a severe emotional shock. She’ll regain consciousness soon. There’s nothing physically abnormal p>
Stewart thanked him, then dragged a chair to her bedside and sat.
Gabriela, even unconscious, didn’t look peaceful.
Her brows pulled tight. Her lips trembled. Tears slid silently from the corners of her eyes, one after another.
Stewart watched, unsettled.
At thirty-three, he had long dismissed love as nothing more than a sales pitch. He kept women when convenient, let them go when bored, and regarded marriage as a scheme designed to trap men foolish enough to believe in it.
But watching her like this, something inside him twisted.