Gabriel's Obsession

A New Home

Gabriel's POV

It's been a month since I decided to confess the truth to her. I couldn't bear the thought of her seeing me solely as a villain. So, I chose to reveal a part of the truth, leaving out the darker details that could make her hate me even more. I'm well aware of the pain I've caused her, and while my obsession with her still lingers, I've learned to exercise restraint.

Over the past month, I've remained by her side, offering support without crossing any boundaries. I wanted her to see that I can change, that I can be better for her. Progress was visible – her fear of me was gradually subsiding, and she was starting to open up. I've been careful not to touch her in ways that would make her uncomfortable, allowing her to trust me at her own pace.

A positive development is that my father has finally transferred all of his business holdings to my name. I am now the proud owner of Hamilton Enterprises, and my underground ventures, which remain hidden from her, continue to thrive. Keeping these aspects concealed is essential, as I can't risk losing her by revealing the darker side of my life. This is a secret I'll guard with utmost vigilance.

Today is no different – I wake up on the couch, opting to let her sleep comfortably in the bed. My routine unfolds as I prepare for the day ahead. She's still asleep, and I know she needs her rest. My responsibilities, both legitimate and illicit, keep me busy, so we haven't had the opportunity to explore our surroundings together. As our time here draws to a close, we'll be returning to England tomorrow.

I dress in a sleek black suit, adorning myself with a Rolex watch and a spritz of an expensive cologne. I ensure that every detail is in place – from my hair to my beard. Looking in the mirror, I appear as composed and elegant as always. Before I leave for my office, I approach her sleeping form and press a gentle kiss to her forehead – a silent promise that I'll return soon.

Amelia's POV

This morning, I found myself waking up later than usual. The digital clock on the bedside table indicated that it was nearly 11 a.m. I rose from the bed and made my way to the washroom, taking care of my morning routine. After a refreshing shower, I chose a slim pair of jeans that fit snugly and paired them with an off-shoulder blouse adorned with floral patterns. My hair, still slightly damp, was pulled back into a ponytail. I stepped out of the washroom, which was conveniently located next to the bed.

The past month has brought about significant changes in my life. Surprisingly, I no longer fear him as I once did. He's been a consistent source of support, and I've come to realize that he's not the monster I believed him to be. Getting to know him better has made me more open-minded about the situation I find myself in. Remarkably, he's been sleeping on the couch every night since the incident – a gesture that I can't help but feel guilty about. It's as if he's trying to give me space and respect my boundaries. He hasn't made any inappropriate advances since that day, and I appreciate this newfound restraint. It's a side of him I never expected to see – one that shows there might be more to him than meets the eye.

He may have his inner struggles, as does everyone. When it comes to my parents, I've decided to stop dwelling on them – they hold no significance in my life anymore. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I responded. The door swung open, revealing a member of the room service pushing a trolley laden with food. "Good morning, miss. Here is your breakfast. Have a nice day," he offered in his distinct French accent before departing. Staying in this place had grown monotonous. With Gabriel occupied at work and arriving late at night, my days for the past month had followed a pattern of sleep, eat, watch TV, and repeat.

I eagerly delved into my meal, relishing the flavors. One aspect I genuinely enjoyed here was the quality of the food. Throughout the rest of the day, I stuck to my routine of eating, watching TV, and not much else. By around 9 p.m., Gabriel finally returned. I was in the bedroom, engrossed in watching television.

"Good evening, angel. How was your day?" he inquired while shrugging off his coat. "Not much. I'm growing quite bored of being cooped up here," I confessed, accompanied by a pout.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll be returning to England tomorrow morning. So go ahead and pack your clothes," he assured me. I couldn't help but rejoice at the news. But then, a concern crossed my mind.

"However, if we do go back to England, where will I be staying?" I asked with a hint of hesitation.

"Right in my house, of course. You don't need to be around people who have betrayed you," he replied with an air of nonchalance. His response made sense to me, and I simply nodded in agreement.

The following day, around noon, we arrived back in England. "Finally," I let out a sigh of relief. Spending a month in Paris had made me homesick. Gabriel and I settled into the backseat of his car, embarking on the journey to his house.

After about an hour, we pulled up to his mansion – if it could even be called that, given its size. Stepping out of the car, I entered the grand abode. "Head upstairs and choose whichever room suits you," he instructed. With a nod, I quickly made my way up.

Once on the upper floor, I was faced with multiple doors. Opting for the one at the far end, I opened it and found myself in awe. The room was incredibly spacious, dominated by a king-sized bed. The color scheme was a soothing light grey, harmonizing with the curtains and bedding. A set of sofas occupied one corner, accompanied by a convenient coffee table. Mounted on the wall across from the sofa was a large television. The room held an air of luxury. There were two doors, and upon opening one, I discovered a generously sized ensuite bathroom. Inside, a sizable Jacuzzi caught my attention – a luxury I was determined to indulge in later.

I paid no heed to the other door; I presumed it to be the walk-in closet. With the stickiness of the journey clinging to me, I resolved to take a bath and unwind in the inviting Jacuzzi. Preparing the bath, I introduced a pink bath bomb to the water, the gentle fizz creating an aromatic ambiance. With a sense of comfort, I undressed and eased into the warm water, allowing my weariness to subside.

After a while, the door unexpectedly creaked open. My body tensed, and I instinctively opened my eyes, only to find a pair of intense sea-blue eyes fixated on me. He wasn't staring at my face; his gaze was undeniably tracing my exposed form. I realized that the once-cloudy water had cleared, leaving me vulnerable to his view.

In a moment of panic, I instinctively shielded my breasts with one hand and my private area with the other. My voice trembled with embarrassment as I stammered, "Um...you should have knocked."

He seemed to tear his gaze away from my body, his own embarrassment evident. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I'll leave," he quickly replied and exited the room.

I hurriedly emerged from the Jacuzzi, wrapping a towel around my body. Upon stepping out of the ensuite, I was startled to find him on his phone, reclining on the bed. Confusion filled me – why was he here? Didn't he have his own room? Clearing my throat to catch his attention, I inquired, my eyes fixed on him, "Um, did you need something?"

He glanced up from his phone, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Oh, I needed to shower, and when I came in, well, you were in there." His response caught me off guard.

"Is this the only bathroom available in the entire house?" My eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"There is another bathroom, but, well, this is actually my room," he admitted, and my cheeks flared with embarrassment.

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