Chapter 3 3

Damian hung up the phone, knuckles white around the device, and immediately dialed his executive assistant's number.

"Where is Gabriella Blair?"

"Mr. Nunez, Miss Blair stopped by the estate briefly earlier. She grabbed a single suitcase and left."

Damian had known she would leave, but he'd never imagined she'd vanish this fast. Shot, and with nowhere to go?

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No, sir. But Director Blair was picked up by a multi-million dollar luxury vehicle. A man was behind the wheel-handsome, clearly extremely wealthy."

A sheet of ice instantly descended over Damian's dark eyes. He slowly set the phone down on his desk, face schooled into a mask of casual indifference, even as rage and venom coiled tight in his chest.

Divorced for less than a day, and she's already being chauffeured around by some rich bastard. She never loved me at all, did she? That's why she betrayed me without a second thought.

Gabriella, you're really something.

Gabriella had been picked up by her older brother, Andrew Carlisle, and driven straight to Carlisle Manor-the Carlisle Foundation's palatial, heavily guarded private estate in the heart of Manhattan's Upper East Side. Andrew had been called away on urgent foundation business, leaving her alone in the manor. He had no idea she'd been shot.

She lay back on the soft, custom-made king-sized bed, staring at the familiar, opulent surroundings of the suite she hadn't stepped foot in for four years. She couldn't hold on any longer. Her face was deathly pale, cold sweat beading and dripping down her forehead. The searing pain from the bullet wound in her side, tangled with the crushing heartache in her chest, was unbearable.

She lay there weak and exhausted, eyes closed, long lashes trembling softly. She couldn't understand it. How could two people who'd once loved each other so deeply, fall apart so completely, so suddenly?

Every memory of the past four years with Damian flashed through her mind-the soft, tender look in his eyes that was once only for her, a look that now belonged to someone else forever. The thought sent a searing, tearing pain through her chest.

It turned out even the most heartfelt vows had an expiration date.

There was another reason she'd been so determined to finalize the divorce: she was pregnant.

But Damian had eyes and ears everywhere, his reach endless across Wall Street and Manhattan. She could never, under any circumstances, let him find out about the baby.

After she'd been shot, she'd dug the bullet out of her own side with her bare hands. She'd refused anesthesia, terrified it would harm the baby growing inside her.

Her mind drifted to the promise she'd made her grandfather, the head of the Carlisle Foundation, all those years ago. She'd finally made her decision: she would return home, take her rightful place as the sole heir to the Carlisle legacy.

She had finally let go of this broken relationship for good. It was time to return to where she truly belonged, to step back into her true identity: Gabriella Carlisle.

One Month Later.

Early autumn, bright and sun-drenched.

Gabriella's wound had fully healed. She stepped out of Carlisle Manor, slipping a pair of oversized designer sunglasses over her eyes. She stared up at the brilliant sunlight, a deep, unbridled smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

For a month, she'd lain low here, cutting off all contact with the outside world.

She wore a sharp, tailored crimson blazer, her red lipstick bold and vivid, her smile unruly and free. She climbed into the waiting luxury sedan at the curb, and gave the driver a single instruction: the Nunez Group headquarters. She was going to collect the last of her things from her office.

At the base of the Nunez Group skyscraper.

Gabriella pulled open the car door, and came face to face with Damian Nunez, who was just stepping out of the building. Beside him stood Hayleigh Blair, her smile soft and demure, her arm looped through his.

The tender, loving look in Damian's eyes as he glanced down at Hayleigh stabbed straight through Gabriella's chest. Her hand at her side clenched into a tight fist, unbidden.

Hayleigh's eyes flicked to Gabriella, a flash of surprise crossing her face-what was she doing back here? But her expression smoothed over instantly, and she shot Gabriella a challenging, triumphant smile. "Blair, long time no see!" she greeted, voice sickly sweet.

Gabriella ignored her completely.

Damian looked at Gabriella with a lazy, mocking smirk, his gaze sweeping past her to the multi-million dollar luxury sedan idling behind her. Their eyes locked, and his sharp, penetrating gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, to her side where the bullet wound had been.

He let out a cold, sharp laugh, disgust swirling in the depths of his eyes. "You've got quite the life, Blair. Took a bullet to the side, and you're still up and walking around like nothing happened. You're lucky to be alive."

A sharp, searing pain lanced through Gabriella's chest. The heart he'd broken hadn't gone numb; it hurt worse than ever, now that he'd said it out loud. "My apologies for not dying and disappointing you," she said, voice flat and cold. "I'm just here to collect my things from my office, then I'll be gone."

Damian stared at her cold, emotionless gaze, his eyes growing darker, more frigid, more bloodthirsty by the second. "No wonder you walked away with nothing in the divorce, Gabriella. You already had your next sugar daddy lined up, didn't you? You're absolutely shameless."

The words stabbed into her chest like a knife. Gabriella looked up at his cruel, smirking face, and let out a cold, bitter laugh. "You cheated on your wife while you were still married, Mr. Nunez. What right do you have to call me shameless?"

She stepped past the two of them, spine perfectly straight, and walked toward the glass doors of the Nunez Group skyscraper.

Damian's furious voice boomed out from behind her, sharp and unyielding: "Gabriella! Stop right there!"