Chapter 6 6

The heat from Jakob's proximity sent a violent shudder down Gemma's spine.

She pushed against his chest, her palm flat against the hard wall of his suit.

"Don't touch me," Gemma hissed, her chest heaving. "Show some respect. You're standing on Roberson property."

Jakob let out a harsh, barking laugh. His eyes turned ice-cold.

"Roberson property?" he mocked, stepping even closer. "Do you even know whose money built the foundation of this trust fund, Gemma?"

The words hit her like a physical blow to the head.

Suddenly, the sound of the ocean wind morphed into a deafening, mechanical roar.

A phantom tremor shook her, a memory of distant, catastrophic sound.

Gemma's face lost all color. Her vision narrowed into a dark tunnel.

She felt the crushing weight of a past sorrow, heard echoes of a desperate plea.

She stumbled backward, her spine hitting the freezing marble of a Roman pillar. Her hands clawed desperately at the fabric of her dress.

Her lungs forgot how to pull in oxygen.

Jakob's mocking smile vanished instantly. He saw the pure, unadulterated terror in her eyes.

His jaw clenched. He took a quick step forward, his hand reaching out to grab her shoulder.

"Gemma?" his voice dropped, losing all its cruelty.

Before his fingers could make contact, the glass doors slammed open.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Joseph roared, storming out onto the patio.

The loud noise snapped Gemma out of her flashback. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Joseph grabbed Gemma's arm firmly, pulling her behind him, glaring at Jakob like a rabid dog protecting its bone.

Jakob slowly lowered his hand. He slid both hands into his trouser pockets, his face returning to a mask of absolute indifference.

"Just catching up with my sister-in-law," Jakob drawled, his eyes flicking to Gemma's pale face. "She looks like she's going to pass out."

"Stay away from my wife," Joseph spat. "Your Silicon Valley money doesn't make you God here."

Jakob didn't even dignify that with a response. He let out a dark chuckle, turned his back, and walked toward the side entrance of the ballroom.

The second Jakob was gone, Joseph turned to Gemma, his face a mask of fury. "Are you trying to humiliate me?" he hissed, his voice tight with anger. "Don't you dare look at that bastard again."

Gemma winced and ripped her arm free. "I was just getting some air."

Joseph ignored her. He turned sharply, his menacing glare a command she felt compelled to obey, and led her back into the blinding lights of the ballroom.

He forced her to stand next to a group of Wall Street investors, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist in a fake show of affection.

Gemma stood there like a lifeless doll, nodding and smiling on command.

Just as the fake socializing reached its peak, the massive mahogany doors of the ballroom were thrown open.

The live orchestra abruptly stopped playing.

Kassandra Baird stood in the doorway, wearing a blindingly bright red, plunging evening gown.

A collective gasp echoed through the room. The wealthy socialites immediately began whispering behind their champagne glasses, their eyes darting between Gemma and the mistress.

Joseph's face turned a sickly shade of gray. He hadn't expected Kassandra to be this insane.

Kassandra ignored the stares. She lifted her chin and began walking directly toward Joseph and Gemma.

Gemma's grip on her champagne flute tightened until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes turned to sharp ice. The battle had come to her.