Chapter 6: The Devil And The Angel
673 Words
Lucas stood paralyzed in the dim hallway, his gaze locked on Gabby as she walked past him without a single word. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t bow. She simply moved with a cold, ghost-like grace, her black-and-white maid’s uniform a sharp contrast to the silent fire burning in her eyes.
"Sir? Boss?" Joe’s voice finally broke the heavy silence. "The tracking data... it definitely came from the staff quarters."
Lucas didn't even glance at him. He just nodded slowly, his mind a chaotic whirl of images from six years ago. "I've heard," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'll see to it. Go back to the floor."
He smoothed his tuxedo and stepped back into the ballroom, but the charm was gone. He moved through the crowd mechanically, shaking hands and nodding at CEOs, but his eyes were predatory, darting through the sea of guests. He wasn’t looking for investors anymore. He was looking for her.
Gabby moved through the crowd like a shadow, weaving between the rich and the ruthless. Every time she caught sight of Lucas, her grip on the silver tray tightened until her knuckles turned white. She felt his eyes on her—heavy, searching, and filled with a confusing light.
When she finally approached his circle to offer a fresh round of vintage wine, the air between them turned electric.
Lucas reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he took a glass. He didn’t look at the wine; he looked directly into her eyes. It was a look Gabby hadn’t seen in six years—a look of genuine, haunting recognition and a twisted sort of relief. He looked glad to see her.
Gabby felt a surge of nausea. Glad? After what he did? She didn’t let her mask slip, offering him a stare so cold it could have turned the wine to ice. She didn’t want his recognition; she wanted his ruin.
She pulled her hand away and turned sharply, her heart racing against her ribs.
In her haste to escape Lucas’s gaze, her heel caught on the edge of a carpet. She stumbled, the heavy tray wobbling dangerously, when a pair of hands caught her firmly by the waist.
"Easy there," a voice murmured.
Gabby looked up to find Andre staring down at her. But he wasn't looking at her as a maid; he was looking at her as if she were the most mesmerizing thing in the room. The awe on his face was unmistakable, his breath hitching as he took in the sharp curve of her jaw and the intensity of her eyes.
"I... I apologize, sir," Gabby said, her voice formal and distant. She righted herself, gently prying his hands from her waist. "I was clumsy."
"Not clumsy," Andre whispered, still dazed by her beauty. "Just... unexpected."
Gabby didn’t stay to hear the rest. She hurried toward the kitchens, leaving a second Hargreeves brother haunted by her presence.
By the time the last limousine pulled away from the manor, the moon was high and the air was biting. Gabby slipped out to the terrace, clutching her phone to her ear.
"Megan? Is she asleep?" Gabby’s voice was weary.
"Out like a light," Megan’s voice crackled through the line. "But Gab, the news... it’s disappearing. The scandal didn’t stick. The party drowned it out. Are you okay?"
"I’m fine," Gabby hissed, her eyes welling with frustrated tears. "The video was a failure. He’s still standing, Meg. He’s still the 'Golden Boy.' But I’m not leaving. I’m going to find another way."
"Just be careful," Megan pleaded. "Grace needs you more than you need revenge."
"I know. I love her. I’ll see you soon."
Gabby ended the call and tucked the phone away, letting out a jagged breath. She turned to head back to the party arena, but her heart nearly stopped.
Standing only a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadow of a grand stone pillar, was one of the Hargreeves.
Fear, cold and paralyzing, surged through her body. They had heard her.
- Writer
