Chapter 21 Chapter 21 Gabriel’s Troubled Thoughts
Gabriel’s POV
After Lorenzo left me at the restaurant, I didn’t get up right away. I just sat there, staring blankly at the table, replaying his words over and over in my mind.
“Who could I have offended?”
One name rose unbidden from the depths of my thoughts—Emmanuella. She was the only one who made sense. Our recent days together had felt like walking through fire. Her trust in me had burned away, piece by painful piece, and she’d taken drastic steps to counter my motive of leaving her and make me a prisoner in our marriage.
Was this her way of getting back at me?
Even so, we’re still married. If I don’t secure this investment, it will impact us both. Could she really be that indifferent? Or maybe she had money stashed away somewhere and wasn’t the least bit worried about my struggles?
“Would you like anything, sir?” A waiter’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I looked up at her, jolted back to reality.
I knew the unspoken rules—if I wanted to linger here, even just a few minutes longer, I needed to order something, even if it was only a glass of water. Otherwise, I’d have to leave.
“Yes, please. Just a glass of water for now,” I said, attempting a half-hearted smile. She gave a polite nod.
“Got it, sir.” Then she slipped away, leaving me once more with my troubled mind.
“Is this really how my business ends?” I whispered, the words raw and bitter.
I’d put so much hope in Lorenzo. I had carefully researched before reaching out to his management, painfully optimistic that he would appreciate my vision and back my project. I’d poured weeks into perfecting my presentation, spending late nights on endless revisions, sinking money into pre-meetings to make sure everything was airtight. I’d even heard stories of how Lorenzo’s investment had revived smaller companies, propelling them into success.
A faint hope sparked within me. Maybe I shouldn’t give up just yet. Maybe one last email could turn things around—show him how dedicated I am, how passionately I believe in this vision.
I took out my phone, switched on the internet, and, as if the universe had timed it, a notification flashed on my screen. My pulse quickened.
Lorenzo’s name glared at me in bold text, followed by something I caught only in a blur—something about an “investment” in “Valentine’s Conglomerate.”
I swiped down to read it clearly, my breath caught in my chest.
"Lorenzo Fabrizio invests one million dollars into Valentine’s Conglomerate."
My heart raced, a tight, painful beat against my ribcage.
“What? How…?” My thoughts splintered. “He was just here. With me!”
The waiter returned, setting the glass of water in front of me. I grabbed it with shaky hands and downed it in one gulp. Then, throwing a few coins onto the table, I rushed to open the link.
The news article appeared instantly, followed by a video. And there they were, Lorenzo and Rebecca, side by side, her face lit up with a radiant smile as she shook his hand. Camera flashes illuminated them like two Hollywood stars.
“He dismissed my pitch only to walk over to Valentine’s Conglomerate?” I muttered, staring at the screen, my mind reeling. He was wearing the same suit he’d had on here at the restaurant. Just minutes ago. And there was Rebecca, practically glowing, her vice-president standing proudly behind her.
A flood of chaotic emotions surged through me—betrayal, disbelief, humiliation, and beneath it all, an aching regret that hollowed out my insides.
“Should I call Rebecca? Beg her to reinvest in my company?” The idea flashed through my mind before reality sank its claws back in. “But if Emmanuella finds out, she’ll report me in a heartbeat, and I’ll end up in jail.”
“What am I supposed to do?” My voice was barely a whisper now. My thoughts were a storm of desperation, crashing around with no anchor to steady me. My heart felt as heavy as lead. People were beginning to look my way. I needed to get out of here before I became a public spectacle, a showpiece of failure.
I reached the car and closed the door behind me, my frustration clawing at me with sharp, unrelenting intensity. I slammed my foot against the tire, once, twice, then pounded the hood with my fist, a strangled shout tearing from my throat.
“Aaagh!”
If only this wasn’t happening. If only I hadn’t been such a fool.
In my mind’s eye, I had a flashback of what happened that night, How Rebecca caught me having sex in the office and how I chose to be indifferent about it. I'd even went back home and handed her a divorce letter after I knew I as the one at fault.
I had dismissed her love and her loyalty for something as empty as chasing sex and fatansies. I had chosen this thrill over everything i had going on, and now that thrill was nowhere to be found.
It was Rebecca who’d had my back through thick and thin. Rebecca who’d fought for my dreams even when I lost sight of them. If I hadn’t divorced her, if I’d just held on a little longer, I could have been her partner in Valentine’s Conglomerate now. Together, we would have merged our businesses, creating a powerhouse in the industry.
But I threw it all away. All for a woman whose loyalty feels paper-thin now, whose desperation is just to keep me as husband and can't help to let me grow financially.
I chose the shallow over the sincere. And now, this is my reality. I’ve sown the seeds of my own ruin.
My phone buzzed again, but I didn’t bother looking. What was the point? The whole world seemed to be celebrating Lorenzo’s million-dollar investment in Valentine’s Conglomerate, in her company. And here I was, left with nothing but the bitter fruits of my own choices.
I slumped against the car, the weight of it all pressing down on me like a vise.