Gabriel's Obsession

A Fragile Thread of Trust

Gabriel's POV

The night air was thick with the weight of my fury as I stormed out of the mansion, each step fueled by a rage that burned through my veins like wildfire. The confrontation with Adrian, his brazen audacity, and the image of Amelia's tear-streaked face intertwined, tightening around my throat like a noose. I needed distance. I needed solitude. And so, I found myself retreating to the one place that had once been synonymous with both power and forbidden affection—my private estate. The very house where I had once brought Amelia against her will, a place that had borne witness to our darkest moments and our most fervent ones.

Inside, the dim glow of the chandeliers cast flickering shadows along the marble floors, mirroring the turbulence within me. My pacing footsteps echoed through the vast living room, the sound an extension of my unrest. My mind replayed every word Adrian had uttered, each syllable soaked in venom, burrowing beneath my skin. How dare he approach my wife? How dare he stoke her emotions, manipulate her vulnerability, and attempt to stake a claim to what was mine? The possessive rage surged through me, an instinctual, primal force that I both loathed and embraced. My hatred for Adrian knew no bounds.

The hours stretched on, the night dragging me into its abyss. I stood by the grand window, staring out at the moonlit landscape, my reflection barely visible in the glass. The argument with Amelia gnawed at me, the widening chasm between us a wound I feared would never close. A troubling thought took root in my mind—if my anger consumed me further, would I end up doing something irreparable? The mere idea twisted my gut. No matter the fury that roared within me, I could not afford to lose her.

As dawn crept over the horizon, the fire of my rage began to smolder into something raw and hollow. What remained was an unshakable determination—to face the consequences of my actions, to mend the damage I had inflicted, to beg Amelia for forgiveness if I had to. With a heavy sigh, I reached for my keys, ready to return to the mansion.

Then, my phone buzzed.

I turned toward the table, my gaze narrowing as Anna's name illuminated the screen. A flicker of irritation coursed through me, but curiosity followed close behind. Her message was brief, but it carried weight: Meet me in the secluded garden. There's something you need to know. It's about the drug shipment from France. And a possible conspiracy.

I stiffened, rereading the words, the warning settling uneasily in my gut. A drug shipment. A conspiracy. My jaw clenched.

And then, a chilling thought struck me—was Adrian's interference part of something larger? Had his sudden interest in Amelia been more than just an act of defiance? Could his meddling be just one thread in a far more intricate, dangerous web?

Despite my deep-seated distrust of Anna, I couldn't ignore the implications. If there was even a sliver of truth in what she claimed, I needed to know.

Grabbing my coat, I turned on my heel, my decision made. Whatever secrets lurked beneath the surface, I intended to unveil them all.

The secluded garden was draped in an eerie stillness as I approached. The early morning sun stretched long shadows across the damp grass, its golden glow failing to dispel the cold weight settling in my chest. Anna stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, feigning vulnerability. But I knew better.

I came for answers. Not games.

"Gabriel," she called softly, stepping toward me, her voice tinged with urgency. "There's something you need to know about the drug shipment. There's a conspiracy—plans to use the mansion as a front for illicit operations."

A frown etched itself onto my face as skepticism curled in my gut. "Conspiracy? You expect me to believe that?"

Her eyes locked onto mine, wide with desperation. "I overheard a conversation, Gabriel. They're planning something big. You can't ignore this."