His Crimson Obsession

Chapter four — the price of payment.

Gabriella’s POV

I didn’t look back once the guards let go of me. My heels clicking furiously against the marble pavement as I stormed away from that mansion. Whoever that man was—the one with the sharp blue eyes and a voice that made everyone freeze. The one who didn’t lift a finger, yet the guards scattered like roaches when he spoke.

I slowed my pace, gripping my sides. “Who the hell was that?” I muttered.

I could still see his eyes… the way he didn’t even glance at me, as if I were beneath his notice. The audacity of it clawed at me more than fear ever could.

And I wasn’t going to waste another thought on him.

---

By the time I got home, I was too exhausted to care. I peeled off the uniform, tossed it onto the floor, and crashed face-first into my bed. Let the rich choke on their champagne. I had work in the morning.

---

The next day, Lisa gave me the lecture of my life. She was fuming.

“You little asshole, you almost gave me a heart attack last night!” she yelled, then shoved a thick envelope into my hands.

“What’s this?” I asked, instantly suspicious.

“Your pay from last night.”

I blinked. “They actually paid me? After I… you know… assaulted that banshee in the designer gown?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, apparently they did. But—” she lowered her voice, leaning closer, “the guy who gave me the envelope was asking questions about you. A lot of questions. Said to make sure you got it personally.”

Something twisted in my gut. “What kind of guy?”

She shrugged. “Tall. Sharp suit. The type that screams untouchable.”

Was it the guy with the blue eyes?

I forced a laugh, though unease prickled my skin. “Probably just making sure I didn’t run off with the silverware.”

Lisa didn’t smile. “Just… be careful, Gaby.”

---

At home, I tore open the envelope, expecting maybe enough to cover a week’s rent. Instead, my eyes nearly fell out of my head.

Stacks. Real money. Not hundreds, not even thousands, but ten times what I’d make in a month of double shifts.

“What the hell…” I whispered, holding the bills like they might vanish if I breathed too hard.

Suspicion flared instantly. No way this was just payment. This money felt lethal. Dangerous. My mind raced with possibilities of why they gave me this much money. But then I thought of Dad. His prescriptions. The hospital bills piling up.

Suspicion didn’t stand a chance against desperation.

I grabbed the money, bolted out the door, and headed straight to the hospital pharmacy. By that night, Dad had fresh meds, and I had the tiniest weight lifted off my shoulders.

It’s not as if they’re going to ask for the money back. Right?

---

Three days blurred together in a haze of café shifts, errands, odd jobs—anything to keep us afloat.

“Enjoy your coffee,” I said sweetly, handing a latte to a customer.

The second she was out of earshot, I turned to Lisa. “She’s a bitch.”

“Gaby, don’t s**t-talk customers,” Lisa scolded, popping up from behind the counter.

I narrowed my eyes. “Why not? She was making my life miserable. ‘I asked for one shot of espresso, not two,’ blah blah blah—like the world would end over caffeine.”

“Customers are always right,” Lisa sing-songed.

“The f**k they are. I hate Karens like her the most. Just because they’re dripping in designer doesn’t mean everyone else is beneath them."

Lisa smirked. “And just because your life’s a mess doesn’t mean you get to s**t on the wealthy."

“Let me s**t-talk the wealthy privileged, okay? It’s a coping mechanism of mine. Free country. One day I’m gonna punch one of these designer bitches right in the face.”

Lisa was about to reply, but then her eyes lit up with excitement. I followed her gaze to the door.

“Your boyfriend’s here,” she teased, nudging me as Jacob walked in.

He was one of our regulars: soft brown hair that fell into his eyes, a warm smile, late twenties. Always ordering the same cappuccino like it was some sacred ritual. Sunshine in human form. And Lisa’s favorite victim to tease me about.

I groaned. “Lisa, please stop shipping me with the customers. First it was Austin, then Doctor Adam, and now Jacob?”

“I thought you said it’s a free country. Let me ship who I want.” She winked, then vanished just as Jacob approached.

“Hey, Gabriella.” His smile was as bright as ever.

“Hi, Jacob,” I said, smiling back. “The usual?”

He nodded.

“Coming right up.”

He shifted nervously, tugging at his sleeve. “So, uh… how have you been? I hope your dad’s doing better.”

That little question always got me. “He’s doing great, thanks. It means a lot you care.”

“That’s good to hear. Please give him my regards.” His grin widened, and for a moment I couldn’t help but think of a big, goofy golden retriever. That sunshine energy—something I both admired and envied.

“So, um, Gabriella…” He cleared his throat, tugging his ear. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me. Not like a date or anything. A friend gave me these movie tickets, and I don’t really have anyone else to ask.” His words tumbled out, nervous and stuttering.

I bit my lip. “That’s sweet, Jacob, but… I can’t. I’ve got work, and I need to take care of Dad.”

His smile faltered, then flickered back, weaker this time. “It’s okay, my bad. Guess I’ll just go by myself.” He laughed softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Maybe next time,” I offered.

“Sure. Well, thanks for the coffee.” He left with a wave.

I felt a pang of guilt. I always turned him down.

Lisa appeared like a ghost. “Aren’t you being too hard on him? Give the guy a chance.”

“You know he’s not into me,” I muttered.

“Mm-hm. Let’s ignore the fact he only comes when you’re on shift.” She grinned wickedly. “Face it, he’s smitten.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s just kind. That’s all.”

“Poor Jacob,” Lisa sighed dramatically. “Bro’s destined to stay friendzoned for life.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe not. Either way, I didn’t have time for romance. Loan sharks and hospital bills—that was my love life.

By the end of the week, things almost felt normal again. Almost.

I left the market with a plastic bag swinging from my scooter handlebar, discount groceries rustling with every bump. I had scored meat and fresh vegetables on salt. My chest bubbled with rare excitement.

Stew. Dad loved stew. When I was little, he’d make it every Sunday, filling the house with garlic and onions. Tonight, I’d surprise him.

The late afternoon sun painted everything gold as I sped down the quiet road, humming under my breath. For once, things felt… good.

And then—

BANG.

My scooter jolted violently, metal shrieking against asphalt. Groceries spilled into the street as the world tilted sideways.

Someone had rammed into me.