Gabriel's Obsession

A night to remember

The drive to the restaurant was short, but anticipation buzzed in the air between us.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop, Gabriel stepped out swiftly, moving with effortless grace. Within seconds, he was at my side, opening the door with a gentlemanly ease.

"Come on, baby girl," he murmured, extending his hand toward me.

I placed my hand in his, and as he helped me out of the car, a shiver of something unexplainable ran through me.

His arm found its place at my waist as we strolled toward the restaurant's entrance, his touch light yet possessive. The establishment exuded sophistication, with its grand entrance, warm golden lighting, and an ambiance that whispered exclusivity.

The moment we arrived, Gabriel tossed his car keys to the valet with casual ease, exuding confidence that spoke volumes. He belonged in places like this—refined, elegant, untouchable.

It was only then that the realization truly hit me. He owns Hamilton Enterprise. Of course, places like this were second nature to him. This was his world.

A professionally dressed woman, poised and elegant, greeted us at the entrance. Her high heels clicked lightly against the polished marble floor as she flashed a practiced smile.

"Welcome, Mr. Hamilton and Miss Hutton. Please follow me; I'll show you to your table."

I swallowed, feeling a flicker of nervousness as we followed behind her. The restaurant's interior was breathtaking high ceilings adorned with cascading chandeliers, tables draped in pristine white linens, and patrons who exuded quiet luxury. The air was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the delicate clinking of wine glasses.

I suddenly felt small.

My outfit, which had made me feel beautiful just an hour ago, now seemed too simple, too out of place among these effortlessly refined guests.

"Here is the table you reserved," the hostess announced, her voice smooth and professional. "Take your time with the menu. Enjoy your evening."

She left us, and I turned to take in our table.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was stunning.

Positioned against a floor-to-ceiling glass window, the table overlooked the entire city. The skyline stretched before us, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. The view was nothing short of mesmerizing, the kind of beauty that couldn't be captured in words.

"Gabriel, this place is absolutely stunning. Words fail to capture its beauty. And look at the view, the whole city is laid out before us," I exclaimed, genuine awe lacing my voice.

To my surprise, Gabriel reached into his pocket and handed me his phone.

"Here. Take a picture so you can always remember this moment," he said, his smile warm and dare I say, sincere.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the phone, lifting it to frame the view.

The camera captured the scene beautifully, but even so, the real-life view was incomparable. No photograph could do it justice.

Once I returned his phone, he slipped it back into his pocket before turning his attention fully to me.

Without hesitation, he pulled out my chair, the smoothness of the action making it clear that such gestures were second nature to him.

I slid into my seat, and with practiced ease, he pushed my chair in slightly, ensuring I was comfortable.

The small act of consideration sent a strange flutter through me.