ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 160

CHAPTER 160

GABRIELLE’S POV

I woke up the next morning with a smile on my face.

Before I could even turn around to look, I knew the bed was empty.

Damon told me he had a very busy day today.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, stretching lazily as the memories from last night replayed in my

mind.

Heat crept up my neck.

God.

If someone had told me a few months ago that Damon Gravari would ask to make love to me, I would have laughed in their face.

Yet here we were after everything, and somehow more intimate than we had ever been.

My gaze shifted to the bedside table where a small folded note rested beside the lamp.

A smile tugged at my lips as I reached for it.

Damon might never admit to being the romantic type, but his actions said otherwise.

He had developed a habit of leaving me these little messages whenever he had to leave before I woke up.

I unfolded the paper.

My smile deepened as I read the short message in his neat handwriting. I placed the note back, pressing my palm over it for a

second.

Warmth spread through my chest.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt… peaceful.

Almost too peaceful.

A small part of me knew that kind of calm never lasted long in Damon’s world. But I pushed the thought away and forced myself

out of bed.

I intended to enjoy today.

I walked into the bathroom to freshen up.

Maybe I’d call Fiorella and we could go shopping together.

From our messages, I could tell she had been stressed lately. She seemed distant and I knew it was because of the stress of

opening her new restaurant.

A spa day would do her good.

I had barely finished getting dressed when I heard voices outside.

Frowning, I stepped onto the balcony and looked down.

Barrister Keane stood at the gate, arguing with a very irritated Vani.

Why was Damon’s lawyer here?

“Let him in, Vani,” I called down.

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Both men looked up at the sound of my voice, and Vani hesitantly moved aside.

As the barrister walked toward the house, a strange feeling settled in my stomach.

Damon’s lawyer flying across continents told me he didn’t come here for pleasantries.

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I led him to the living area and we sat down to discuss.

“So,” I said. “What brings you all this way?”

Barrister Keane adjusted his glasses, his expression turning more serious. “Before I say anything, Mrs. Gravari, I need to ask you a question.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Did your husband mention anything to you about… revising his will recently?”

The question caught me completely off guard.

“No,” I said slowly. “He didn’t.”

Keane studied my face for a moment, as if confirming something to himself. Then he opened his briefcase and pulled out a thin file.

My stomach tightened. “What’s going on?”

He placed the file on the table and slid it toward me.

Your husband called me shortly after his surgery,” he said, his voice low. “He insisted on making some… significant changes.”

strange chill crept up my spine.

“What kind of changes?”

Keane hesitated again.

The change a man usually makes,” he said carefully, “when he believes there is a real possibility he might not live much

er”

n suddenly felt a little colder.

That’s ridiculous,” I said finally. “Damon isn’t dying.”

“No,” Keane agreed calmly. “But he believes he may be putting himself in a situation where the outcome is… uncertain.”

A cold unease settled in my stomach. “What situation?”

Keane hesitated again, and that hesitation was beginning to irritate me.

“You’ve already come this far, Barrister,” I snapped unintentionally. “Just go straight to the point.”

He exhaled slowly and folded his hands together.

“Your husband has been restructuring a number of his assets,” he said. “Properties, businesses, and investment accounts. Everything has been moved into trusts.”

My brow furrowed. “Why would he do that?”

“To protect them from the authorities.”

The words landed like a stone thrown at my chest.

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I let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Why would he need protection from the authorities?”

Keane didn’t return the smile.

Instead, he slowly opened the file and turned it toward me.

Inside were pages of documents with Damon’s signature at the bottom of each one.

“He asked me to prepare these if certain… investigations begin,” Keane said.

A tight feeling spread across my chest.

Keane cleared his throat. “All of the trusts your husband has created… are in your name.”

My gaze dropped slowly to the stack of documents on the table. “How many trusts are we talking about?”

Keane hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Two hundred and seventeen.”

My head snapped up. “Two hundred what?”

“Two hundred and seventeen trusts, Mrs. Gravari,” he repeated calmly.

My eyes widened. “That’s… ridiculous. Why would anyone need that

of money being protected,” he replied.

w much money is that exactly?”

many

trusts?”

a turned a page toward me. Rows of uncomfortably large numbers filled the document.

across the page once… then again.

strange ringing filled my ears as I looked up at him. “I knew Damon was wealthy,” I said slowly. “But this-”

I gestured helplessly toward the documents.

“This is insane.”

Keane didn’t argue.

My gaze landed on the watch around his wrist. It had to cost at least half a million dollars.

The realization settled in quietly.

If Damon’s lawyer could casually wear a watch worth that much… and assist him with something that clearly skirted the edge of legality… then the man sitting across from me was far from an ordinary attorney.

And Damon must have been paying him very well.

Almost as if he could sense where my thoughts were going, Keane spoke again.

“For the record, Mrs. Gravari, I did not move any of the funds myself.”

My eyes returned to him.

“The accountants and banking institutions on your husband’s payroll handled most of that process,” he explained calmly. “ Several bank executives were… very cooperative.”

He tapped the documents again.

“My role is simply to make the paperwork legally sound. So do not worry.”

Legally sound.

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The phrase felt ironic.

He slid the documents closer. “All I need is your signature to formally accept ownership of the trusts.”

I stood up immediately.

My throat felt so tight that I couldn’t breathe.

Signing these documents would be accepting that things could go awfully wrong so fast.

“Mrs. Gravari,” Barrister Keane called out. “I understand how-”

“With all due respect, Barrister, you understand nothing,” I snapped. “You’re not sitting there worried if something has happened or is about to happen to your husband.”

Before he could respond, my phone rang.

I walked to a private corner and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Finally you pick your calls,” the caller said. “Where’s my grandson? The hospital said he was discharged days ago.”

“Beatrice?” I asked.

“Yes, Beatrice,” she snapped. “Where’s Damon? None of you has been picking up my calls.”

I rolled my eyes. “With good reasons. Damon is getting better. No need to keep calling.”

“So you can cut me out of his life for good, right?” She asked. “Your plan to kill him didn’t work but I know you’ll try again. Your greed is the reason your father cut you off.”

Her words sliced my heart in half.

But I didn’t let it show in my voice.

“You’re too old for this, Beatrice,” I said calmly.

No response.

“My father cut me off because I leaked my sister’s sex tape as a form of revenge,” I continued coolly. “Not because I’m money hungry.”

“That’s not what I heard,” she snapped.

“Of course it isn’t,” I replied. “You prefer whatever version of the story that justifies your uncalled hate towards me.”