ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 90

CHAPTER NINETY

GABRIELLE’S POV

I was just done packing my bags when I heard a knock on my door.

I froze.

What if it was Damon?

No, I couldn’t let him see me like this.

I got up from the bed and stood in front of the mirror, wiping my tears with the hem of my shirt. But my mascara was smudged and it wouldn’t come off unless I washed my face.

“Gabrielle?” Fiorella’s voice floated into the room. “Are you decent? I’m coming in.”

Shit.

There was no way I could reach the bathroom before she walked in so I just gave up. The door pushed open, and she walked in, her hair still wet from the shower.

She froze when she saw my face. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

My shoulders dropped. “I wish I knew.”

Her eyes took in my appearance and turned to the bags beside my bed. “Gabby, are you leaving?”

I nodded, blinking back the fresh tears that threatened to spill. “I am.”

She entered the room and shut the door behind her. “Did you fight with Damon?”

I shook my head, not wanting to speak because I was this close to crying in front of her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with that hag? Did she say something mean to you?”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

The tears fell freely again, sob wracking through my body. Fiorella closed the space between us and pulled me into a hug.

“Shhh,” she cooed, patting my back gently. “It’s okay. Come sit.”

She led us to the couch by the window and we sat before she spoke again.

“Don’t take anything she says seriously,” she said. “As I said before, she’s a mean old lady.”

I wiped the tears away before speaking. “No, it’s not just that. All she said was the truth and I was too stupid.”

Her hand reached for mine. “Don’t say that, Gabby. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, the door pushed open, and Damon stood there.

I stiffened.

Fiorella turned first. “Damon.”

His gaze moved from her to the bags by the bed, then to my face. He took it all in without a word.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I looked away. “Nothing.”

“I’ll give you two privacy,” Fiorella said.

CHAPTER NINITY

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As she walked out, she paused by the door and whispered something to him. He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

Then she walked out.

I didn’t wait for Damon to speak. Hearing him say those dreadful words would only hurt more.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I started. “I’ll leave on my own.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Who told you to do that?”

His voice was cold, his eyes unbothered.

“I know my place here, Damon,” I said quickly, shoving down the tears that were about to spill. “I just… think it’s best if I leave on my own.”

“For who?” he asked.

“For everyone,” I replied. “Your family clearly doesn’t want me here.”

A moment of silence passed between us. I hated that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Damon stepped into the room and locked the door behind him. “What did Beatrice say to you?”

I shook my head. “Let’s not make this any worse. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he said, closing the distance between us slowly. “Tell me what she said.”

I didn’t want to prolong my embarrassment any further but I’d be nothing but a coward if I couldn’t take rejection directly from

him.

I met his eyes then. “She said you never stopped loving Selene. She said I was temporary.”

His expression didn’t change a bit. He just stared at me with a bored expression, his eyes detached.

“That’s all?”

I raised a brow, rage replacing my sadness. “If that’s all you have to say why did you make me explain myself?”

“She doesn’t decide that,” he said.

“But you haven’t denied it.”

His gaze hardened slightly. “I don’t deny lies.”

“Then say it,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to control it. “Say I’m not temporary. Say I’m not some fucking placeholder.”

He stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head to keep eye contact. His presence filled the room without effort and it was infuriatingly intoxicating.

“You’re packing your bags,” he said, “because of something someone else said.”

“I’m packing because I don’t belong here,” I said. “Because this marriage isn’t real and because I keep forgetting that.”

He reached out and took my wrist, his hold tight and unyielding. Not painful but not gentle either.

“You belong where I put you,” he said, his voice even colder than his gaze. “And I haven’t told you to leave.”

I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip tightened. “Damon, let go.”

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