Chapter 18

We stand in the long, brightly painted corridor staring at the large monument carved in gold.

The statue resembles a child, a wide smile etched into its face. As I lower my head, I read the inscription on the plaque. It references the opening of the children’s cancer wing inside the hospital we’re standing in.

“Your name,” I say, continuing to read while processing my thoughts. “You opened this wing?”

Gabriella silently runs her hands along the foot of the statue, with a reflective smile. There’s an aura surrounding her. She appears at ease with her thoughts unlike the usually troubled woman I have grown accustomed to.

“When I left college, I began working on foundations and charities with my mother.” Her expression alters between a graceful smile to one of sadness. “My mother does it to make herself look good. She couldn’t care less about the goodwill and charitable cause. Everything with her is about upholding the Carmichael name.”

“She sounds splendid,” I sneer.

“About two years ago, one of the heart surgeons who often donated sizable amounts of money for our events had a son. He was diagnosed with leukemia at the age of five. Dr. Chan and his family were always contributing, and I felt helpless, wanting desperately to help them because time was of the essence. So, I put together the biggest charity ball in the county and called every associate of my father’s to attend and donate. We raised enough money to open this wing to make it as comfortable for children and their families while they went through chemotherapy.”

I’m shocked, unable to put words together to express how amazing this woman is for bringing this all to life to help families in need. During our time together, she never once mentioned in detail what she did back home, almost as if she purposely kept it a secret due to being ashamed. Far from reality. She should be fucking shouting this from the rooftops.

“You did this? Opened the wing… this hospital wing?”

“Yes, I mean, not my money, but yes. It was a hard year and a lot of work, but the reward outweighs it.”

“And the little boy?”

Her smile quickly fades, the corner of her eyes blinking as she clears her throat. “He didn’t make it.”

We both stand quietly, unable to piece a sentence together to lift the sadness away from this moment. Life is unfair and has a cruel way of stripping people of their souls. I’ve been fortunate in life never to have lost anyone close to me.

“My father calls these parties frivolous. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. Before college, I considered studying medicine, but I deemed it rather pointless since he wouldn’t entertain a daughter not marrying and settling into his chosen life for us.”

I felt myself flinch. The mention of her controlling father still strikes a chord. I love Pa, but if he’d have ever told me not to play soccer, I would never have listened. But that’s the difference between Pa and her father—Pa would never have asked me to do something I didn’t want to do.

“Oliver?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” I tell her, though part of me knows she isn’t strong enough yet. It will take some miracle for her to grow a backbone, and time is quickly running out.

I sensed her need to be alone, to figure herself out through this mess she calls her life. It’s what I need to do when I am confused. Solitude for clarity always helps me gain perspective.

“I need to do this.”

“You do, but you know that,” I remind her.

She takes a deep breath, smiling as she strokes the plaque. “Oliver?”

“Hmm…”

“I want to be there with you tomorrow if you’ll let me.”

A part of me begins to shut down, the raw emotion of tomorrow’s reality crashing into me hard and fast. I can’t talk about it or let my thoughts fester in front of her.

“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy.”

“Oh... okay.”

“Listen, we should go. I’ll call you when I’m done tomorrow, anyway.”

She nods, turning away from me.

Damn! I’ve hurt her. She wants to be there with me. Yet, I’m not ready. Tomorrow is make or break, and if it turns out to be break, I won’t be ready for her to see me crumble into nothing.

We walk back toward the Jeep, and without a word, she grabs her bag and tells me she’ll catch a taxi.

I don’t stop her or say goodbye.

I’m sitting in some bar not far from the hotel, drowning my sorrows with bourbon. It’s the closest one—the proximity is within short walking distance. It’s not anything fun, a bit classy, but still served the goods I need to ease the nervous tension building inside me.

The girl at the bar, blonde with the longest legs I’ve seen in a while, begins to chat me up. She leans in close, plays with her hair, and runs her finger along her lips way too many times. She’s keen. I could have her, which I contemplate but shut it down.

Gabriella has spoiled me for anyone else.

And I loathed her for that.

A rowdy bunch of men steps in, demanding the waitress to serve them. They’re dressed in designer suits—arrogant-looking fuckers. The kind who belong on Wall Street snorting crack off hookers’ arseholes.

“C’mon, Gemma, serve us a round, and maybe I’ll give you some like last week.”

The dude bumps into me, not apologizing. Fucking bastard. He’s an inch or so shorter than me. Dark hair slicked to the side like a fucking pussy.

“You might want to watch where you’re going, mate.”

He’s taken aback and cocks his head with widened eyes.

His friends—the bunch of dickheads—snicker behind him.

“You’re not from around here,” he notes with dark amusement. “Lost, are we? Missing your kangaroo?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“C’mon, Nicholas, leave the guy alone.”

The name struck a chord. Prince Charming. Anger boils deep in my system as hot as lava. It churns within, hungry for destruction, and I know it’s too much for me to handle. The pressure of this raging sea of anger will force me to say things I do not mean or to express thoughts I’ve suppressed for weeks.

Is this him?

The guy Gabriella is forced to marry.

The guy she will spend the rest of her life with if her father has his way.

The man who will implant his seed and give her a family for all the wrong reasons.

“Nicholas… I’ve heard that name before.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, a friend of mine. Good friend. Actually mentioned it as the guy she won’t commit to.”

I watch as the whites in his eyes turn a pure black as his irises glower teal. His lethal stare warns me to stay on guard, his clock is ticking, and my time may run out.

The guys behind me rile him up.

My eyes wander toward his fist, clenched tight, ready to unleash. In a darting moment, he throws a punch, but I knock him back, blocking him until all four of them try to jump me.

The short, stumpy one gets me in the mouth. The taste of blood lingering as security guards step in, demanding I leave. This is their town, apparently, and I, as the unwelcome visitor, need to get out of here or pay the price of being locked up.

At the hotel, I almost punch the wall in frustration. That most certainly was the guy Gabriella’s thinking of marrying—the asshole trying to woo her with expensive gifts into a life she doesn’t want. How dumb must she be not to see what she’s getting into? A man should worship the fucking ground she walks on.

Then why don’t I?

There’s a bang on the door, and careful that it might be him, I open slowly. That’s when I see her wild eyes staring back at me until she pushes my chest.

“You asshole,” she screams. “What did you just do?”

“Me? I did nothing! Your so-called fiancé was being a jerk, and I put him in his place.”

“Do you know how much you’ve messed it all up?” she cries, throwing her hands in the air like a crazed woman. “I was planning to… you know what, never mind?”

“Planning to do what?”

“Nothing. Nothing matters now.”

“Oh, that’s right… Miss Scaredy Cat is too frightened to stand up to her daddy and jerk of a fiancé. Go on then… run away, run back to your money because that’s what matters here, right?”

“Oh, like you’re any better. Called Bianca back yet? Yeah, you aren’t the only one with skeletons in your closet.”

“Just go.”

She leaves, slamming the door behind her. I run my hands through my hair, pacing at the door, desperate to bring her back to me. I was a fucking idiot to say the things I said. This should have been her fight, not mine, and I probably did fuck it all up.

Then she said she was ‘planning.’

Planning to do what? Leave him? Leave this life behind. Runaway with me? What if I’m not ready for that? I have my own problems to think about. Maybe I don’t need her messing it all up for me. I need one hundred percent focus, and falling in love with Gabriella is quickly shifting that to a place I’m not sure I want to explore.

My thoughts give me whiplash. My momentary lapse of feeling sorry for her is shadowed by anger. How dare she fucking accuse me of messing it all up? I’m going to fucking tell her how wrong she is. I’m not messing up what is already a colossal fuckup.

Pulling the door open, I stop dead in my tracks. Gabriella’s leaning against the frame, splotchy skin from the tears escaping her beautiful eyes. Her chin trembles, her head fallen as she stares bleakly at the floor.

Releasing a heavy sigh, my hand extends out to hers, lacing my fingers until she’s in my grip. We say no words, the silence between us louder than our shouts from moments ago.

I can’t resist anymore.

She’s broken down my walls and crawled her way inside to a place no other woman has.

And now, I refuse to hold back.

I want her. All of her.

I pull her back inside the room, and with the door closing behind us, I’m ready to fight for what should be mine.

Not Prince Charming’s.

Not anyone else’s.

Simply all mine.