Gabriel's Obsession

Unveiling secrets.

Amelia's POV

The situation was beyond embarrassing.

How had I not realized that a room as elegant and luxurious as this one had to belong to him?

My stomach twisted as I scrambled for words. "Um... sorry, I didn't know. Don't worry, I'll find another room," I stammered, my flustered tone betraying me.

Gabriel, still reclined on the bed, barely spared me a glance. "No, it's fine. You can stay here. I don't mind."

I hesitated, thrown off by his casual response. There was no teasing, no smug amusement—just indifference, as if my presence here didn't disrupt him at all.

With an awkward nod, I retreated into the walk-in closet, eager to put some distance between us.

I selected a simple yet cute floral dress, slipping into it quickly before stepping back into the room. The distant sound of running water echoed from the ensuite. Gabriel was showering.

For the first time since returning to England, I felt a sense of freedom.

Fighting the boredom creeping in, I decided to explore the mansion.

I stepped out, gently closing the door behind me.

Turning left, my gaze landed on another staircase, leading further upstairs. Intrigue prickled at the edges of my curiosity. What's up there?

Without overthinking, I ascended, the plush carpet silencing my footsteps. The hallway was dimly lit, lined with heavy wooden doors.

I stopped at the first one, hesitating for a moment before reaching for the handle.

Before I could turn it, a voice cut through the air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I startled, spinning around to face the source.

A woman stood before me, her presence both commanding and unnerving. She appeared to be in her fifties, though her tightly pulled skin and the overuse of cosmetic treatments made her features eerily unnatural. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that clashed with the artificial sharpness of her face, she was a sight that was both unsettling and, frankly, cringe-worthy.

Her scrutinizing gaze raked over me, lips pursed in mild amusement—or perhaps disapproval.

Something about her sent a shiver down my spine.

"You're not supposed to be here! Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?!"

The woman's voice thundered through the hallway, sharp and commanding.

I barely had time to process her words before she launched into a tirade, her accusations cutting like daggers.

"Are you a thief? Sneaking into the Hamilton mansion to steal? You wretched woman!"

Before I could even open my mouth to defend myself, her hand flew through the air.

The slap landed hard against my cheek, a sharp sting blooming across my skin. My breath hitched, my fingers instinctively flying to the sore spot as tears burned at the edges of my eyes.

"No! I'm not a thief!" I shot back, my voice trembling with both anger and disbelief. "I'm here with Gabriel."

As if summoned by his name, Gabriel's voice cut through the tension.

"What's all this commotion?" His tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. His gaze flickered between me and the woman, and then, as if only just realizing, he asked, "Mom? When did you arrive? You didn't inform me."