FALLING FOR VENGEANCE

3

chemistry

Samantha sat on the floor, her eyes puffy, tear marks streaking her cheeks. She looked pitiful, her shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. To everyone outside, she looked like a princess. This façade was a mask she wore perfectly fine; she was always portrayed as the weak princess that Daddy always had to rescue. Everyone blamed her for the fall of Vales Corps, forgetting that her father had already run the company into the ground.

What could she say? Over the years, her father had built his image as a calculating businessman, whereas he was nothing more than an addicted gambler. The company had stayed afloat due to her mother's inheritance, which had been squandered. Seeing that the company was on the brink of bankruptcy, he handed over the reins to her, making her take the blame for his mistakes. He was manipulative—outside, he played the role of a devoted husband, a loving father to his only daughter. But when the cameras were gone, his beast came to play.

Her mother, a rich heiress, had fallen for a psychopath, a lethal poison—yet it came in a handsome container. Even as an old man, he still turned heads. No wonder her mother fell for him; even in her last days, she sought to take care of him. Just like yesterday, she could still hear her mother's voice.

"Samantha, please promise me that you will take care of him. He may appear strong, but he is scared."

Samantha scoffed. "Him? Scared?" That man was arrogant, a psychopath. But so as not to upset her mom, she had kept her two cents about her father to herself.

"Enough of these bad thoughts. I cannot keep spiraling into this dark hole."

Sighing, she raised her head, looking for something to hold onto. Her gaze clashed with the tabletop, eyeing it with so much hatred. She scoffed before choosing to crawl. She made her way to the bathroom to freshen up, trying to save as much face as she could from her previous encounter.

At the bathroom door, she stood up on shaky legs and took her time removing her heels. Walking in, she made her way to the vanity. She looked up, staring at herself in the mirror—she looked tired, the bags under her eyes sitting heavy. Deciding not to dwell on her appearance, she changed into her spare dress. Although a little tight, it fit snugly.

Sighing, she thought about how, after the birth of her son, some parts of her body never went back. Now, she looked curvier than when she was younger. "Motherhood, although a blessing, came with some prices."

"Okay, I'm done."

Samantha came out of the bathroom and sat down behind her desk. She felt tense.

"Okay, you can do this," she muttered, picking up her phone and dialing Gabriel's number.

As Gabriel reached Vales Corps, the door swung open, welcoming him in. Jimmy stood aside.

"Sir—" Jimmy tried to speak, but Gabriel, familiar with the place, made his way to the elevator without pause.

Jimmy and Philip raced after him, barely making it into the elevator as the doors were closing. Entering, they sighed in relief and pressed the button for the top floor.

"It's showtime," Gabriel murmured.

This time, Gabriel took his time as he skimmed through the corridor. He stopped abruptly as he reached the door labeled "C.E.O." Knocking gently, he heard a soft voice echo from inside:

"Come in."

Stepping inside, he made his way to the center of the room. For the first time, he took it all in. The room was spacious; its floor-to-ceiling window gave an endless view of the beautiful scenery. The cream-colored paint on the walls gave a relaxing feeling, just the perfect touch of familiarity. The shelf behind Samantha was decorated with awards, a subtle yet loud statement of the company's achievements. Gabriel scoffed. Even with the achievements and awards, they still lost.

Grinning, he made his way to the chairs opposite Samantha. He picked one and sat down. "Well, let's begin," Gabriel drawled.

Samantha sat behind the huge mahogany office table. Behind this table, she felt untouchable. While making official decisions, she always stood behind the table; it always gave her a sense of protection. She felt like an adult, not a young, clueless girl playing dress-up in her father's company. But before Gabriel, she felt small, like he could see behind her mask. Black eyes stared back at her. Every time she stared into his eyes, she felt like she could get lost in the dark abyss. She looked away, and she finally understood—"the heart never forgets." Over the years, she had tried to forget about him, keeping her feelings away, but she was still very much in love with him, just like the first time they met.

"He could ruin me," she thought. "My love for him could be my undoing. He mustn't know, not with Gabe involved."

Her decision was made; she brought out the deed, placing it on the table, and gently pushed it to him. "Uhmm," she cleared her throat. "We added a few requirements—nothing much, just, uh, I guess you should read it." Samantha quickly finished, holding her breath. She stared at Gabriel, waiting, beads of sweat coating her forehead.

Sensing that something was wrong, he cautiously picked up the file, scanning through it, his brows furrowing. Pausing, he looked up at her and scoffed, beckoning to Philip. He gestured for him to sit down, then tossed the file into his lap. Philip, grasping the scattered pieces of paper, quickly scanned through it, his brow furrowing.

"Impossible! You have no right to make such demands!" Philip thundered, rising up. "What is all this? Retaining current workers? What right do you have?"

Gabriel, appearing bored, tugged on Philip's sleeve. He sighed. "Sit down. Now, Philip."

Sighing, the fight draining out of him, Philip plopped down.

"So, what do you have that will make me agree to such a request?" Gabriel asked. "Leave us." Then, as if for emphasis, his eyes moved, passing from Philip to Jimmy. The two, getting the message, scrambled out, a soft click signaling that they were alone.

"Okay, we are alone. What were you saying?" Gabriel drawled.