The Bennet Scandal

Headlines and Heartbeats

The morning sun bathed Gabriel's villa in a warm golden glow, but inside, the atmosphere was cool and almost sterile. The sleek, modern furniture, with its clean lines and minimalist design, mirrored the impersonal edge that Gabriel often exuded. As he sat at the marble-topped kitchen island, swiping through the latest headlines on his phone, a subtle smirk played at the corners of his lips.

This was all part of his strategy, and he was beginning to savor every moment of the game. The media frenzy surrounding him and Sophia had reached a fever pitch overnight, but instead of feeling rattled, he felt invigorated. He was the one calling the shots now, expertly leading the narrative as he maneuvered through the storm with his own set of rules.

Every news outlet had something to say about their situation. "Sophia Bennet and Gabriel Westbrook: A Scandalous Living Arrangement!" one headline blared.

Another read, "Heiress Takes Refuge with Father's Business Rival—Love or Strategy?" Gabriel smirked at the range of reactions, from tabloid-style gossip to more measured takes on the high-stakes feud between him and Marshal Bennet.

Yet all the stories had one thing in common: they had captured the public's attention, and his reputation—battered and bruised as it was—was being reconstructed, piece by piece.

He scrolled down further, his eyes landing on another article: "Marshal Bennet Used His Daughter to Destroy Gabriel Westbrook... But Westbrook Still Stands Tall." A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair, tossing the phone on the counter.

"Luke was right," he muttered under his breath. "I had to use the circumstances for my benefit."

Gabriel's manager, Luke, had been the voice of reason throughout this ordeal, insisting that turning the narrative in his favor was the only way to come out on top. Gabriel hated feeling like he was on the defensive, but now, after the press conference and seeing the media spin, he felt more in control. For the first time in weeks, he wasn't reacting—he was directing.

As he sat in quiet triumph, the soft shuffle of footsteps caught his attention. He glanced up to see Sophia entering the kitchen, her face still clouded with sleep. Her hair was tousled, and her oversized sweater hung loosely on her small frame, making her look both fragile and defiant at the same time. Gabriel's smile turned teasing, as if nothing had changed between them.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice light, though his eyes watched her closely for any hint of what she might be feeling.

Sophia barely acknowledged him, her expression tight as she moved to the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a bottle of water, her eyebrow arching at his overly cheerful tone. "Looks like your master plan from the press conference worked wonders," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've rebuilt your reputation—at least a little bit."

Gabriel shrugged, feigning indifference even though the validation felt good. "I'll do whatever it takes to regain control over my life," he said coolly, his eyes never leaving her.

Sophia took a slow sip of water, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms. There was a sharpness in her posture, a challenge in the way she was looking at him. "Don't get too comfortable," she said, her tone warning. "This isn't over. You might have won the first round, but don't be so happy. My turn's coming, and when it does, I'm sure you'll end up in a far worse state than you can imagine."

She turned to leave, but not before Gabriel caught the glimmer of something different in her demeanor. There was a quiet confidence in her movements, an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. He frowned slightly as he watched her walk out, her back straight, her head held high.

As the kitchen door swung shut behind her, Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the countertop. Sophia had always been strong-willed, but there was something new about her now—something that made him uneasy.

"What is she up to?" he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the empty doorway. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was planning something, that she had a card up her sleeve he hadn't anticipated. Sophia had been thrust into his world, but she wasn't crumbling under the pressure like he had expected. If anything, she seemed to be finding her footing—and that made her dangerous.

For a moment, Gabriel considered calling Luke, running through the possibilities of what Sophia could do to disrupt his carefully crafted plans. But he shook the thought off. He didn't want to seem paranoid, not yet. He had always been able to control the narrative, and he wasn't about to lose that grip now.

Still, her parting words echoed in his mind. My turn's coming.

Gabriel smirked, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. If Sophia wanted to play, he was more than ready. He thrived in games like this—high stakes, high risks. But as he glanced back at his phone and the sea of headlines, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that perhaps this time, the rules were different.