Gabriel's Obsession

Freedom's Edge

The room exuded a dim, melancholic glow as Gabriel reluctantly left Amelia behind, her muffled sobs still echoing faintly in the recesses of his mind. The weight of his actions pressed upon him, a burden he refused to acknowledge. Yet, even as guilt clawed at the edges of his conscience, his pride remained unwavering, an iron shield against remorse.

The divorce papers in his hand were more than mere legal documents—they were a manifestation of his control, an illusion of severance that he knew was a lie. Amelia was no longer his wife in the eyes of the law, but in every other way, she remained bound to him, ensnared in a web she would never escape.

Descending the grand staircase with determined strides, Gabriel moved through the mansion like a ghost, his path unshaken despite the storm raging in his chest. His father's office loomed ahead, the heart of the Hamilton empire—a place where control was absolute, where power overshadowed morality.

With a push of the heavy door, Gabriel stepped inside. His father, seated behind an imposing mahogany desk, barely glanced up from his work. The dim light cast long shadows over the room, a testament to the darkness that thrived within these walls.

Wordlessly, Gabriel placed the divorce papers on the desk. His father leaned back, taking his time before picking them up. A slow smirk spread across his face.

"Well done, son," he praised, patting Gabriel's shoulder in approval. "This is the right move for the family."

The weight of that validation settled over Gabriel, suffocating yet strangely familiar. It was the same approval he had sought his entire life, yet now it felt hollow.

"I assume this means we can finally proceed with the engagement to Anna," his father continued, flipping through the pages with satisfaction.

Gabriel's jaw clenched. The mere mention of another wedding made something visceral twist inside him.

"No, not now," he said, his voice firm, a rare defiance flickering in his tone. "Angelica needs my attention. I can't think of a wedding when my sister is barely hanging on."

His father studied him for a moment, his shrewd eyes narrowing slightly. Then, with an indifferent shrug, he relented. "Very well. I'll give you time. But don't let your emotions cloud your duty, Gabriel. The Hamilton name must always come first."

There was a pause, a weighted silence between them before his father leaned forward slightly, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"And what of Amelia?" he asked, as if discussing a business transaction. "What will you do with her?"

Gabriel didn't hesitate. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he answered, his voice dark and unwavering.

"She will be my mistress," he declared. "I can't stay away from her, Dad. If she leaves, I might end up killing her."

The words were spoken without thought, without regret. And yet, they felt disturbingly true.

His father's lips curled into an approving smirk. "Good. Keep her under control."

The unspoken agreement between them was sealed, a perverse pact that neither of them needed to put into words.

Without another glance, Gabriel left the office, his steps heavier than before.

For the first time in months, Gabriel found himself drawn toward the nursery. A place he had avoided since the day his daughters were born.

Pushing the door open, he was met with the soft, rhythmic sounds of Rose and Luna breathing in their sleep. The dim glow of the nightlight bathed their tiny forms in a peaceful aura, so blissfully unaware of the world they had been born into.