Chapter 100: I Miss You
Gabriel's POV
I ducked into a quiet corner of the ballroom, my phone clenched like a lifeline. My heart hammered against my ribs as I hit redial for the fourth time. It rang and rang, then cut to voicemail again—that robotic drone about the call not connecting. Luna was dodging me hard, probably still fuming from our last chat, when she'd overheard that woman's flirty, breathy voice calling my name in the background. She kept hanging up every time I tried.
I switched to texts, thumbs flying:
Luna, pick up your damn phone.
No reply. I tried again:
This isn't what you think.
The three dots danced, then vanished. She was typing and deleting, playing hard to get like a champ.
Screw it. Time to switch gears. I sent a voice message: "Luna, call me back. Please."
A minute later, hers hit back, sharp as a blade—and yeah, she was the one firing first: "If you think using that woman to make me jealous enough to drag me to London is gonna work, you're dead wrong. I'm not playing your games, Gabriel."
What the hell? She thought I was pulling some lame jealousy stunt? That I'd stoop that low?
"Darling," I fired back in another voice note, "you've got it all wrong. I couldn't come up with something that stupid if I tried. That woman means nothing to me."
When she ghosted me again, I hit video call. Shockingly, she picked up—but flipped it to voice only at the last second.
"Luna," I said, relief crashing over me just from hearing her breathe. "What's going on?"
"Don't 'Luna' me," she snapped. "I heard that woman all over you."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration boiling up. "I've been nothing but faithful. Only you meet my standards, Miss Gray."
Silence stretched on her end, then the faint rustle of fabric. Was she changing? The thought of Luna slipping out of her clothes sent a rush of heat straight through me, straight to my groin.
"I miss you," she murmured suddenly, so soft I almost missed it.
My heart slammed to a stop. Luna Gray—my fierce, unbreakable Luna—had just admitted she missed me?
"What'd you say?" I asked, needing to hear it again, my voice rough with need.
"Nothing," she said, her tone dropping even softer. "I gotta go."
"No, you don't," I pushed, a grin breaking through despite the mess. "You said you miss me."
"Goodbye, Gabriel." Click. She hung up—again.
I stared at the screen, torn between wanting to smash it and feeling like I'd hit the jackpot. She missed me. She fucking missed me.
Heading back to London for Ashford Capital business had been the smart move. Distance was working its magic, making her heart ache for me. Now I just needed to wrap this up fast and haul ass back to Vale.
---
My buzz fizzled the second I spotted Owen and Oliver at the bar. Or more like, when I zeroed in on Owen with that brunette lurking nearby—the same one who'd crashed my call with Luna, her sugary voice sparking the whole damn mess.
I stormed across the room in long strides. Oliver clocked me coming and his eyes went wide, but screw warnings. I kicked Owen's chair out from under him, sending him and the whole thing crashing down in a heap. Satisfying as hell.
"Jesus Christ, Gabriel!" Basil yelped from my left. "That's overkill, even for you!"
I ignored him, towering over Owen as he scrambled up, face beet-red with rage and embarrassment.
"Either you rein in your so-called goddaughter," I said, voice low and lethal, "or I'll teach you both a lesson on boundaries you won't forget."
Owen's eyes bugged out. "You can't just—"
"I can, and I did," I cut him off. "Keep her the hell away from me."
The woman—Grace, I remembered now—rushed over to help him up. Owen whirled on her, slapping her hard across the face. The crack echoed through the crowd's whispers like a gunshot.
"Why'd you hit me?" Grace gasped, hand flying to her cheek, eyes swimming with confusion and tears.
Owen's face twisted. "I bring you to an event like this, and you humiliate me? Get out!"
She bolted, sobbing. I felt a quick pang of pity, but it faded fast. She'd wedged herself between me and Luna, even if it was accidental. Actions have consequences.
Oliver sipped his champagne, eyeing the chaos with a smirk. "London's way more fun than I expected!"
Owen straightened his jacket, trying to play it cool. "Gabriel, maybe we should talk business somewhere private? I'm real interested in Ashford Capital's new ventures."
I shot him an icy glare. "I've got other shit to handle. Talk to Basil if you want."
I nodded at Oliver and bailed. Let Basil deal with that leech.
---
In the plush VIP booth, Oliver lounged back on the leather, looking smug as ever.
"You drag me to London on zero notice, and I was just making headway with Isabella," he griped, but his eyes sparkled like he was loving the drama.
I eyed him over my whiskey glass. "Sounds like you've gotten a taste of something sweet from your aunt?"
Oliver's lips twitched. "Let's just say... things are progressing."
"Good for you," I said, actually happy for the guy despite his messy setup. "I'm here to make bank, not play matchmaker."
"Speaking of money," Oliver leaned in, all eager, "I hear you've jumped right into a big project since landing back here."
"Luke and I sealed the deal already," I confirmed.
Oliver scowled. "Why's that single prick need so much cash? What's he blowing it on?"
I chuckled. "You could hop in. The payoff's gonna be massive." I paused, gauging him. "But it'd mean sticking around London to run point."
Oliver nearly spat his drink. "You didn't haul me here just to work for you, did you?"
I smirked. "Think about it, man. What's the future look like for you and Isabella if you're not stacked?"
That landed. His face darkened for a sec before he sighed. "Fine. I'll stay."
"Perfect," I said, glancing at my watch. "I'm bouncing back to Vale tomorrow."
"What?" Oliver's eyes bugged. "You're ditching already? What about Isabella? What if she moves on while I'm stuck here?"
I stood, fixing my cuffs. "Wouldn't be the first time that's bit you in the ass."
Oliver muttered "asshole" under his breath, but I was already out.
I was almost at the exit when Owen cut me off, his earlier smackdown forgotten behind a slick business smile.
"Gabriel," he said smoothly, "before you jet, you should know your brother's been hustling hard in London's investment scene. Building a solid portfolio."
I gave him a bored once-over. "And you're telling me this why?"
Owen's smile was all fake. "Just curious if you're clued in on Julian's connections. Way things are going, you two might end up clashing swords financially sooner than you think."
I fiddled with my cufflinks, not even fazed. "Julian's always gonna be Julian—that little punk. If he even thinks about stepping up, I'll squash him like a bug. No sweat."