ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 152

CHAPTER 152

GABRIELLE’S POV

A lie.

That was what every word he uttered had to be. Because there was no way he meant any of this.

I stood up and walked over to the window, letting fresh air hit my face directly before I fainted.

“Gabrielle,” he called out gently. “Please… say something.”

I turned to him sharply. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

There was a vulnerability in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

“Anything,” he answered.

My heart broke.

I walked back to him and reached out to hold his face with both hands. “No. No. Tell me it’s not true.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly before opening them again.

“That’s not all,” he said. “Just… sit down and listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

My chest tightened painfully, but I nodded and sat beside his bed again.

And then Damon told me everything.

From the abuse he endured as a child, always taking the brunt of his father’s temper…

To the whippings he received as a teenager, and the way he was forced to pin photos of his tear–stricken face on the walls afterward.

Until eventually he stopped reacting at all.

Until pain became normal.

And it wasn’t just him who got abused but his mother too.

He told me how he saved Rhys – and how his father stripped him of his identity until he barely recognized himself because of

that.

How he was thrown into the fighting ring and beaten over and over again until he finally learned how to fight back.

All while being drugged and forced into bed by more women than he could count.

Only two of them stuck out to him.

By the time we were only halfway through the story, I could barely keep my face straight.

Honestly, I didn’t want to hear any more.

But I forced myself to stay.

Because he was finally letting me in.

And then, he got to the part where he lost his mother. And how he had to kill his father even though he could have died from

Rocco’s shot.

“I eventually went back to the fight club and stayed there with Rocco until he became a Don,” Damon said. “When I did, I headed straight for the blonde and the redhead.”

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His expression was empty.

“And I fulfilled the vow I made to myself.”

He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and real fear flickered across his face.

“But this time,” he said slowly, “I didn’t feel the usual guilt that came with taking a life.”

My stomach twisted.

“It felt like I had finally become what my father wanted.” He paused, then let out a breath. “And I have been Stench ever since.”

By then I had cried so much that my eyes burned.

“Turned out Giuseppe didn’t have Rhys,” Damon continued. “He had some random teenager.”

He hesitated briefly before saying the next thing.

“Rocco pinned the murder on them. My father’s people started a fight. Giuseppe and his men retaliated,” his voice grew quieter, “and that led to a massacre.”

My mind immediately jumped to Phoebe’s investigation.

That had to be it.

I hadn’t even told him about her yet, but I would eventually.

“Trying to get my freedom started a war between families,” Damon said, his voice heavy with regret. “It caused the deaths of people who had nothing to do with any of it. But in the end, I was still never truly free.”

He looked away.

“And Rocco has held that secret over my head ever since.”

Suffocating silence filled the room after that.

For a long moment, I couldn’t even look at him. My eyes stayed fixed on the floor as his words replayed in my head over and over again.

Every piece of the man I loved suddenly made a horrifying kind of sense.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze back to him.

Damon sat there against the hospital pillow, watching me like a man waiting for a verdict, like he feared how I would react.

A lump formed in my throat.

“All this time…” My voice came out hoarse. “All this time you carried this alone?”

His jaw flexed. “Yes.”

I pushed back my chair and stood up again, pacing a few steps across the room because sitting still suddenly felt impossible.

“You were eighteen,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “Your father tortured you. Rocco manipulated you, and he took advantage of that situation. You were just a kid.”

Damnon let out a humorless breath. “Then you didn’t listen to me. I was never a kid.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides.

I tried to imagine an eighteen–year–old Damon standing, over his father’s body. I tried to imagine the fear, pain, and rage that would lead to him finally snapping.

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But every image that came to mind only made my chest ache more.

The thought of anyone hurting him like that made my stomach twist so violently that I wanted to throw up.

A tremor ran through me. “That’s how you stopped feeling? Killing your father?”

He exhaled deeply.

“Yes,” he answered. “I just stopped… feeling after. I didn’t even care about my mother’s body. I just walked across it like it was nothing.”

Then Damon said the words I think he had been holding back this entire time.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less if you hate me now. But I can’t truly say I love you if you don’t know all of me.”

My head snapped toward him.

His expression was eerily calm like he had already accepted it.

“After everything I’ve done,” he continued quietly, “you should hate me, Gabrielle.”

The pain in his voice sliced straight through my chest.

I walked back toward the bed slowly.

“Is that what you think?”

His gaze dropped to the blanket covering his legs. “It’s what I expect.”

I stood there watching him with a million questions running through my mind. “Is that it? Is that all you’ve been keeping from me?”

His jaw clenched but he still didn’t look at me. “Yes, but there are still other things you’d want to know that I haven’t told you yet.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I couldn’t tell if it was the cold weather or something else.

I nodded and pushed past the lump in my throat. “So what now?” I asked. “Do you feel anything now that you’ve faced this side of you? Do you still think you love me?”

His head jerked up. “What?”

I glared at him, not sure what to do with the rage I carried inside for no one in particular.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Gabrielle, I just told you I murdered my own father… and other people too. And that’s what you ask?”

My nostrils flared as a burning pressure threatened to burst out of my chest.

“Answer my question, Damon,” I gritted out. “Well? Can you feel your emotions now without my touch?”

His eyes fell shut in defeat and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works. I will have to speak to a prot-

“Can you fucking feel?!”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he returned. “I don’t know how any of this fucking works.”

I didn’t respond.

He heaved a sigh.

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“It has been fifteen years since I last felt any emotion without you,” he added. “And I can’t remember the last time I genuinely

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