ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 8

GABRIELLE’S POV

I put my fork down and spat out my food before I choked on it.

“What?” I coughed, grabbing the napkin. “You can’t be serious.”

Damon kept eating like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me.

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“You didn’t think being my wife came without responsibilities, did you?” he said casually, slicing through his steak.

“I didn’t think being your wife meant… whatever you’re implying.”

He finally looked up with that intense gaze of his. “Relax, Gabrielle. I’m not talking about what’s running through that dramatic head of yours.”

I glared at him. “Then what exactly are you talking about?”

“Public appearances, dinners and functions. People will expect to see my wife by my side, and I can’t have them thinking you can’t stand me.”

I leaned back in my chair, still tense. “So I’m supposed to play along? Pretend this farce is real?”

He smirked faintly. “It is real. You signed the papers, remember?”

I clenched my jaw. “A contract marriage isn’t real.”

He took a slow sip of wine, his eyes never leaving mine. “Maybe not to you.”

“I want a divorce.”

His fork paused midway to his mouth, then he dropped it. “Darling, there’s no divorce for you until after a year.”

My heart skipped. “A year?”

He nodded, his tone calm like he was talking about the weather. “Twelve months. It’s in the contract you signed.”

I stared at him, stunned. “You never said that.”

“You didn’t ask. You just wanted to get married.”

I pushed my chair back slightly. “You tricked me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I gave you a choice, Gabrielle. You were desperate, and I offered you a deal. You signed it willingly”

I swallowed, Jared’s words coming back to memory at the sound of the word desperate. He was right. I wanted a happy ever after so badly I married a total stranger.

“I was drunk. I didn’t know I’d be trapped”

He tilted his head, studying me. “You’re not trapped. You’re protected.”

“By who? You?” I scoffed. “You’re the reason I can’t even breathe freely right now.”

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12:59 pm

Chapter 8

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I won’t.”

“Then you’ll learn to pretend,” he said. “You’re Mrs. Gravari now. Act like it.”

I pushed back my chair and stood up, my hands trembling. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he said, calmly returning to his meal. “But you married me anyway.”

I turned to leave, but his next words made me freeze.

“And Gabrielle-”

I looked back at him, my pulse racing.

He met my eyes. “No one walks out on me.”

I stood there, my chest rising and falling fast. “You can’t order me around.”

He looked up slowly. “I just did.”

I took a step back. “I’m not your property, Damon.”

He dropped his napkin on the table and stood, his movements slow. “You’re my wife. There’s a difference.”

That doesn’t give you the right to control me.”

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He walked closer until there was barely space between us. “It gives me the right to expect respect under my roof.”

glared at him but said nothing. My body was tense and my throat felt tight. He was so close I could feel the heat emitting rom him and I could get a whiff of his cologne.

He lowered his voice. “Sit down, finish your dinner, and stop testing me.”

I’m not afraid of you.”

I know,” he said quietly. “But you should learn when to stop fighting me.”

The silence stretched until I gave in and sat down again, my fork scraping the plate.

He resumed his seat and continued eating like nothing happened.

After a while. I muttered, “You could’ve just said please.”

He glanced at me with an unreadable expression. “I don’t ask for things that already belong to me.”

After dinner, I went back to the guest room and changed into a silk night dress. The room was luxurious and spacious

I laid on the bed, tossing from side to side but sleep wouldn’t come. My mind kept replaying Damon’s words from dinner

A year.

I was stuck with him for a whole year.

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12:59 pm

Chapter 8

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I stood up and walked out of the bedroom. Susan and George had already gone to bed, the hallway was quiet.

My bare feet touched the cold floor as I made my way down the hall. The house was dim except for a few lights in one of the hallway and the faint glow from one of the bedrooms.

I stopped when I saw him through the slightly opened door.

Damon was sitting on the bed, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring into the darkness. He looked deep in thought and a part of me wondered what he must be thinking about.

He looked at my direction and our eyes met.

My chest tightened.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“No,” I said, standing by the door. “Why are you staring into space.”

He chuckled dryly. “Let me guess. You see me deep in thoughts and think I’m something you should fix.”

I swallowed hard. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Good,” he said, taking another sip from his glass. “Because I don’t need fixing.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “You don’t talk much about yourself.”

“There’s not much to say.”

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