Chapter 82 I Have a Wife, Why Would I Look at Anyone Else?
Gabriel hadn't expected her to call him out so directly. Though his heart skipped a beat, his expression remained perfectly composed, even curling into a smirk. "I have a wife, why would I look at anyone else?"
"You..." Arabella was so furious she could barely speak, stammering, "You're shameless!"
Since he'd been caught red-handed anyway, Gabriel dropped all pretense, embracing his roguish nature completely, "Are you changing or not? Don't make me do it for you."
"Are you insane? I already said I don't need to, you..." Arabella couldn't believe it, her voice rising in disbelief. Before she could finish, he actually reached for her, grabbing hold of her.
"Hey! Gabriel! Let go of me! You pervert, I told you I don't need... ah, stop! I'll do it myself, I don't need your help!"
Arabella struggled and shrieked, her hands trying both to push him away and protect herself, completely flustered.
This halter-neck evening dress was Gabriel's choice, and he'd helped her change that day, so he knew exactly where the zipper was.
Despite Arabella's uncooperative twisting and turning, he still managed to smoothly pull down the hidden zipper.
Realizing she couldn't fight this rogue, Arabella had to surrender, shouting that she'd do it herself until she finally pushed him away.
Gabriel pulled back his hands, tossing the clean clothes directly at her, his gaze boldly fixed on her as he waited for her to continue.
Arabella's hair was disheveled, with several strands hanging across her face that fluttered with her angry breathing—the scene was both amusing and infuriating.
Whether it was their scuffle that had stimulated her chest again, during their tense standoff, she clearly felt that swollen sensation returning. Her brow furrowed immediately as she thought, "Oh no."
Now she really had no choice but to change.
Too tired to ask him to turn around—because he definitely wouldn't anyway!
She simply turned her back to him, slipping off the evening dress and continuously dabbing herself with tissues before pulling his shirt from the eco-friendly bag.
But just as she'd put it on before she could button it up, she felt pressure behind her and found herself pulled into a strong, solid embrace.
The man's breath was right by her ear as he asked in a low, gentle voice, "Need help?"
Arabella jumped in fright, her whole body trembling as she quickly clutched the shirt to cover her chest, saying coldly, "No."
"You do need help."
"I don't!"
He chuckled low, his lips trailing along her neck before suddenly asking out of nowhere, "Have you been in contact with that guy all these years?"
Gabriel had suspected this for a while.
From what he'd learned, Manuel had been living overseas for over a decade, and counting the years since he'd moved away from Whispering Pines—they'd been separated for nearly twenty years.
After so long apart, to recognize each other immediately wasn't very likely.
Unless they'd been in contact all along.
Arabella's nerves were on edge, trying to figure out how to stop his advances, when his sudden question made her eyelashes flutter in surprise.
Holding her close, Gabriel naturally caught every subtle reaction on her face.
He already had his answer.
"Why are you asking? That's my business," Arabella didn't want to tell him, though she suddenly understood the reason behind his outrageous behavior.
He suspected something between her and Manuel, so he was deliberately using his spousal authority to pressure her—or rather, humiliate her.
Making her remember her place.
Gabriel smiled slightly, his large hand lifting to grasp her chin, gently turning her to face him.
"..." The woman remained silent but was completely on guard.
"You have been in contact, haven't you? You knew he was coming back to the country, didn't you?"
Though Gabriel phrased it as questions, his tone was full of certainty.
Arabella's heart clenched as she thought to herself that this guy really was formidable—practically a mind reader.
"So that's how it is. I really underestimated you. I thought your life was simple, that you didn't have many friends, but it turns out you have quite a few secrets."
"Don't talk nonsense!" Arabella couldn't stand him, denying it, "Manuel and I don't have any special relationship—we just know each other. Stop overthinking and falsely accusing people."
She knew this guy had strong possessive tendencies and was afraid he'd become convinced she had something going on with Manuel, then target him like he had with Zachary recently.
Though Manuel was successful, he'd just returned from overseas—he might not be able to compete with Gabriel.
So no matter what, she couldn't let him misunderstand and treat Manuel as an enemy to deal with, or she'd bear the guilt of harming someone again.
"Why are you so anxious? I don't have any proof, can't do anything to either of you. Why are you panicking like this?" Gabriel watched her eager denials with an especially gentle smile.
"..." Arabella pressed her lips together, not daring to say more, afraid of making more mistakes.
Gabriel didn't speak again either, but his mind was filled with images of her flawless, delicate back.
His gaze dropped lower, seeing her hands tightly clutching the shirt. His Adam's apple bobbed as he murmured low, "Your shirt's wet again..."
Arabella looked down and frowned.
This really was...
Before she could figure out what to do, her chin was lifted by a gentle but firm force. "Gab—"
Before she could finish, the man lowered his head and kissed her deeply.
"Arabella, you're mine. No matter who comes along, it won't matter. Give up any foolish notions before you drag innocent people into this..." Gabriel warned her between deep kisses.
Arabella couldn't speak, but her heart trembled with waves of fear.
Just as she'd suspected—this guy wanted to go after Manuel.
She tried to explain, but had no opportunity.
Gabriel had been aroused by her since they'd left home, holding back all evening, and could no longer control himself.
Though he knew the timing wasn't appropriate, he couldn't care less anymore.
And Arabella, who had no say from beginning to end, found even her protests firmly dissolved, could only silently endure.
Arabella arrived at the office early, drowsy and exhausted.
Last night Gabriel had been like a man possessed—the journey home hadn't been enough, and he'd continued his relentless pursuit once they got back.
She was still adjusting to having less daytime rest since starting work, and after last night's ordeal, when her alarm went off this morning, she simply couldn't get up.
The exhaustion was unbearable, so she got up and went to the break room to down a cup of coffee.
After working busily for most of the morning, she finally finished her proposal and submitted it to Zane.
The afternoon meeting would make the final decision.
Arabella felt a bit nervous. Though this was her first project and she wasn't expecting much.
But she also worried about doing so poorly that her colleagues would laugh at her—then she'd only be marginalized afterward, and management wouldn't give her any good assignments.
Four colleagues had participated in this project proposal.
To avoid bias, the four of them had no decision-making power—other colleagues would vote to decide.
After the four participants each explained their proposals, Arabella had a good sense of things.
She liked Ella's proposal, while the other two colleagues' were rather mediocre—unremarkable and lacking innovation.
But unexpectedly, when the voting results came out, her vote count was dead last.