ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 86

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX

GABRIELLE’S POV

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By Christmas morning, the heat from the night before felt like a foreign memory, replaced by a tight and hollow ache in my chest that refused to loosen no matter how many times I breathed.

John’s death living

–

even though the man was a rude fuck – only reminded me how fickle life was and how much I hadn’t been

The police, along with John’s family lawyer, arrived early in the morning.

Martha dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that looked suspiciously dry for someone who claimed she’d been devastated all night.

I stood beside Damon as the cops questioned her.

“I just “her voice cracked on cue, and one of the officers leaned forward slightly. “John had a weak heart. I always told him not to get too excited but he never listened.”

One of the officers glanced around the room. “Does he have any heart–related issues?”

She sniffed, pressing the tissue harder now, as if willing tears to appear. “Yes. He would faint occasionally. I thought last night was the same. I waited but he didn’t wake up this time.”

One of the officers turned to Damon. “You’re Mr. Gravari?”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened in shock or admiration I couldn’t tell. “And you arrived when?”

“Late last night,” he said.

The officer nodded and wrote something on his notepad. They whispered amongst themselves, matching the notes they’ve

taken.

When they finished, one of them faced Martha. “Once again we are sorry for your loss.”

Then they left.

The lawyer spoke next. “Seeing as you’re one of the two beneficiaries in John’s will, we’ll have to wait on the autopsy report to verify his death was natural.”

Martha nodded, sniffing and wiping her face with her tissue. “I understand. But who’s the other person in his will?”

The lawyer adjusted his glasses and opened the file.

“The other beneficiary is–quote, unquote–‘the lady with a nice cleavage, brown hair, and brown eyes.“” He looked up. ” Martha’s granddaughter–in–law.”

All eyes turned to me.

I looked down and realized my cleavage was accentuated in my top. Fuck! Maybe I really needed to stop dressing like a sex

worker.

Even in death, John was still annoying. He could have easily asked Martha for my name, but no. He preferred to address me by my cleavage.

I wondered why he had even added me to his will. We’d only had a conversation one time and it wasn’t even by choice.

I could see Martha biting back a laugh.

I cleared my throat and turned to the lawyer. “That would be me.”

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CHAPTER FIGHTY SIX

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“And you’re taking on responsibility that isn’t yours,” he said coldly. “You didn’t kill him.”

“I know that,” I snapped, then softened my tone. “But being around people who can joke about it hours later makes me feel sick.”

He turned off the stove and placed the eggs on a plate. “That’s how Martha copes. And it is none of your business.”

I watched him put the egg in the microwave and make the pancake batter.

“And you?” I asked. “How do you cope?”

He paused and stared at me. “I don’t have feelings. Do I have to keep reminding you?”

“What if I touch you?” I asked.

When he didn’t respond I stood and walked around the counter. I raised my hand to touch him but he caught my wrist. “Here, flip the pancake,” he said, handing over the spatula. “You’re obviously not busy enough.”

He forced it into my hand and stepped away.

I stared at the spatula in my hand, my fingers tightening around it. “I don’t know how to cook, Damon,” I said quietly. “You’re not cooking,” he replied. “Just flip them like this.”

He stood behind me and held my hand, his warmth and scent so close I could barely focus on anything else.

He flipped the pancake and stepped back again. “See? It’s easy.”

I swallowed and focused on the pan, my grip on the spatula awkward as the pancake bubbled unevenly.

I frowned. “It’s going to burn.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

I flipped it too early and it folded in on itself.

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