Begging my billionaire's Ex for Mercy

Gabriel’s POV The sound was booming and heavy, similar to a drum pounding within my chest. The club carried the scent of cocktails and smoke. Vibrant lights swept quickly across the floor. I was twenty-eight. I had more than enough money, yet that evening I felt hollow. I sat close to the stage holding a glass of water. I had no desire for all these; I simply wished to be in a place to distract my mind from work. After the lights shifted to pink and purple. A girl stepped outside. Her hair was long and curly, bouncing. She donned a glittering top paired with shorts. Her smile seemed to express both joy and sorrow. She began to move. Her body flowed like liquid. Rising, dipping, twirling, falling. Each boy in the room watched with eyes and agape mouths. A few men brandished cash. Others yelled unkind remarks. I was unable to avert my gaze. As she moved near the stage’s edge, her gaze met mine briefly. Her eyes were large, weary, and stunning. Within me, a sudden burst, like fireworks, ignited in my heart. The music stopped. All Applauded. She bowed slightly and hurried off the stage. I rose abruptly without hesitation. My legs moved me toward the side entrance where the dancers entered. A large bald man blocked my path. “VIP only, sir.” I took out my card. The one that grants access to every door in New York. The large man glanced at it and immediately moved aside. Backstage carried the scent of perfume, and girls hurried by adjusting their hair. I moved slowly until I spotted her. She perched on a stool, removing her high heels. Her actual shoes, worn and grimy, lay beside her. She appeared smaller and exhausted. “Hi, " I said. My voice sounded strange. She glanced up quickly. "The performance has ended. You need to go back to your house.” “I’m not here for another dance, " I said. "I simply… wanted to tell you that you are incredible.” She let out a laugh that wasn’t joyful. "Everyone says that, then they ask how much it is in private.” “I don’t want secrecy, " I said. "I wish to know your name.” She looked at me as if attempting to determine whether I was being untruthful. "Clara " she eventually spoke. “Clara, " I said again. It sounded nice on my tongue. "My name is Gabriel.” “Gabriel " she whispered gently. "Just, like the angel.” I grinned. It had been weeks since I last smiled. ……… Rain poured down outside. Chilly droplets struck the pavement, and Clara wrapped a jacket around her glittery outfit. I removed my cozy coat and draped it over her shoulders. She looked so tiny wrapped in it. “You don't have to do this," she stated. “I would like to," I replied. "Can I take you home?” She nibbled her lip. “No need I would take the train.” “Not tonight, " I replied. "I beg you.” She looked at me for a long time. Rain made her curls stick to her face. Then she nodded slightly. We strolled toward my vehicle. It was sleek and priced higher than most homes. Her eyes widened, but she remained silent. She simply climbed inside. The vehicle was hot. "Where do you live?” I asked. She gave me an address far from the city, and I began to drive. We hardly spoke. The rain produced noises against the windows. After some time, she remarked, “You don’t seem like the kind of boys who usually visit this club.’” “I usually avoid clubs, " I mentioned. "But tonight I wanted some noise.” She nodded as if she grasped the necessity of sound. As we arrived at her building, it was old and gray. Some windows were shattered, and a man was resting on the stairs. Clara returned my coat. "Thanks Gabriel-, like-the-angel.” “Will we meet again?" I inquired. My heart is racing fast. She gave a smile. "I perform every evening except Sunday.” “I’ll come on Sunday, " I said. This time, she truly laughed. It resembled the sound of bells. Then she ran inside before I could say more. I sat in my vehicle watching rain trickle down the glass. I sensed a feeling in my chest. A sensation that is both comforting, frightening, and positive. After three nights, I went back to the club. I sat in the same spot. When Clara spotted me, she nearly slipped off the stage. Her grin was enormous. Once she finished her dance, she walked directly to me. Her skin was still shimmering with sparkles. “You showed up, " she remarked. “I promised I would.” Each evening after work, I headed straight to the club but I never requested a private room. I just waited until she finished and then gave her a ride home. Occasionally, we got French fries and ate them in the car. She chuckled when salt landed on my suit. One evening, she allowed me to hold her hand. Her fingers felt chilly, but they nestled flawlessly within mine. Another night, she dozed off, resting her head on my shoulder as I was driving. I lifted her four levels to her flat. She woke up as I laid her down on the bed. “You’re too wonderful, " she murmured. "Good things don’t last for girls, like me.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I’m not leaving.” Weeks passed into months. I brought her jackets and proper footwear. I assured her she doesn't need to dance if she chooses not to. She cried happy tears and scared tears at the same time. I handed her a key to my apartment in the city. She was afraid to use it at first, but one morning, I woke up, and she was making pancakes in my kitchen, wearing my shirt. She looked like she belonged there. At that moment, I realized I desired her forever. During an evening when gentle snow blanketed the city, I brought her up to the rooftop where I had placed candles and roses around. I knelt on one knee. “Clara, " I declared, "will you marry me? Allow me to cherish you each day for all my days to come.” She sobbed uncontrollably, unable to utter a word. She merely nodded repeatedly, “yes yes, yes.” I slide the ring on her finger. It gleamed like the lights from the first evening I watched her dance. We shared a kiss beneath the snowfall. All felt flawless. However, that night as we peacefully rested, embraced in one another’s arms, my phone continued to vibrate. I didn't reply. I was unaware that the messages came from my brother David. I was unaware that he had documents prepared to take everything. I did not know that the next day, on our wedding morning, Clara would open her eyes cold and say words that would break my world in half. The only thing I was aware of was that I loved her. I believed, sufficed. I was wrong.