Gabriel's Obsession

Bruised and Broken

Amelia's POV

When I awoke, I found myself in a moving car, lying on Gabriel's lap. The realization hit me—had we really arrived in Paris? The distance from home was overwhelming, and a wave of uneasiness washed over me. The unfamiliar surroundings and the knowledge that I was far away from everything and everyone I knew intensified my anxiety.

Gabriel's seemingly considerate actions—letting me sleep on his lap during the flight and carrying me to the car—conflicted with the image I had of him as a cold and ruthless man. I couldn't let myself be fooled by his occasional softness; I knew the reality of the situation. We had arrived in Paris, a place I had only dreamt of visiting, but the circumstances had turned it into a nightmare.

"You are already awake? We reached Paris some hours ago. I didn't want to wake you up, so I carried you till here," he said, his tone attempting to sound gentle. I saw through his facade, understanding the darkness that lurked beneath his actions. He was a monster, devoid of real feelings or empathy.

The car came to a stop, and my gaze was drawn to the magnificent hotel that stood before us. It was a breathtaking sight—an architectural marvel that exuded opulence and wealth. The grandeur of the place left me momentarily awestruck, but my uneasiness persisted. This place, no matter how beautiful, was now tied to the man who had forcefully brought me here.

His voice snapped me back to reality. "You'll keep admiring, or you'll alight from the car?" he quipped, his smirk evident even in his tone. I chose to ignore his comment, not wanting to engage in any interaction that would further fuel his arrogance. With a tense sigh, I exited the car, careful not to meet his gaze.

As we walked into the hotel together, I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped. The opulence that surrounded me was a stark contrast to the turmoil within. I wondered what Gabriel's intentions were—to keep me captive in this luxurious environment or to impose his will upon me.

My steps were hesitant, my eyes scanning the lobby for any possible escape route. But I knew that evading his grasp in such a grand place, especially with his security around, was an unlikely endeavor. I had to bide my time and seek an opportunity when he would be momentarily vulnerable.

The exchange between Gabriel and the receptionist was conducted in fluent French, a language I had excelled in during my studies. The pleasant smile on her face and the deference in her tone indicated that Gabriel was a regular and influential guest at this hotel. I caught the words she spoke: "Good Morning Mr. Hamilton. What a pleasure to see you again. Here are the keys to your suite. Have a good day."

I couldn't help but feel invisible in that moment. Despite standing right there, I was ignored, as if I were nothing more than a shadow in his presence. It was a stark reminder of how little agency I had in this situation. His actions were calculated to keep me isolated, to make me feel powerless.

Gabriel's response was smooth and confident: "Merci Christelle. Bonne journée." His fluency in French further emphasized his sophistication. He winked at her, causing her cheeks to turn a faint shade of pink. It was evident that his charm and good looks held sway over people, but I refused to let myself be swayed by his facade.

I followed him as he headed towards the suite, my steps reluctant and my heart heavy. Each step felt like a surrender to my circumstances, a tacit acceptance of the reality that he had imposed on me. I felt like a lost cat trailing behind its captor, unable to escape the grasp of a predator.

The suite that lay before me was a testament to opulence and extravagance. It was as if I had stepped into a world far removed from my own. The sheer size and grandeur of the living space left me momentarily breathless. My footsteps faltered as I timidly followed Gabriel into this luxurious haven.