This Crazy Rich Boy

This is shaping up into a long and toxic day, Gabriel realizes. Jake Magno is pressing charges—the nerve of that ȧsshole. Imagine that? He tries to **** Claire, yet he still has the liver to transvaluate everything, even accusing him of setting him up. Well, what can you expect from the biggest snake in town?

Jake's major accusation is that Gabriel beat the shit out of him right in his own home, all without plausible reason. He says he'd just brought home the woman, Bella, because she had passed out in the restaurant, with no intention of doing her any harm.

Gabriel shakes his head as he mentally recounts these details. What an idiot! He has all the evidence, the drug in her system, the highly suspicious circumstances surrounding her unconscious presence in Jake's house. She has no reason to be there. And he found her in a compromising position—her blouse unbuttoned, looking every inch like the helpless prey. If he was even late by a few more minutes, God knows what Jake Magno would have accomplished.

Gabriel isn't really worried about the charges themselves—he's just concerned that all this shit would leak to the media, attracting attention nobody wants. People would start prying into the real identity of Bella Xavier, and that could really escalate things.

"You destroyed my face," Jake spat at him at the police station, right before he posted bail. "I'll make sure you pay for this."

Gabriel swallowed his anger; these delicate times require an incredible amount of patience. "What do you want, Jake?"

"I want you and me in a room for five minutes where I can do to you more than what you've done to me."

Gabriel ground his teeth; patience, patience, man. "Really, what do you want?"

Jake stared at him long and hard. "I want just compensation, Mr. Gabriel Tan."

Everyone is indeed for sale, Gabriel thought. "Give me a number."

Jake Magno said nothing; he paced the room, occasionally throwing Gabriel his dagger glances. He touched his bandaged face. "My lawyer will contact you. Be ready."

"Sure," Gabriel said. "Our lawyers will talk. But let me tell you something, Jake. Make sure you fulfill your end of the bargain."

Jake scoffed. "And what would that be?"

"That in exchange for whatever sum your head can think of, you will never set foot in this city ever again. Or you will have to face the consequences."

"Don't threaten me, Mr. Tan."

"That's not a threat at all, Jake," Gabriel said coldly. "I'm describing what will happen to you, in the simplest terms you may understand."

Gabriel drives alone on a side road, on his way back to his office at the TXCI building, and he's still grinding his teeth. This is what he's been trying to avoid. He should have managed Claire's role better. What was he thinking, throwing her in that viper pit of an office with all her sheer hotness, and expect that people won't find her attractive, that she'd just work under the freaking radar? Is it wise to simply make Bella Xavier vanish, just like that? People won't wonder—they're used to her previous ȧssistants suddenly walking out, never to go back.

But then again, there may be some wisdom, some strategic value in having Claire work as his own personal spy in his office. She could access circles of conversation he couldn't normally tap. He's the boss; his employees don't talk to him with the same honesty as they would with colleagues, especially with a colleague they're trying to seduce. There's a lot of truth that can potentially come out of this.

Okay, he decides, as he makes a turn toward the main street, a few blocks from the office. He'll keep Bella Xavier, the character, functioning. He'll compensate Claire for this extra exposure. But he must have some serious talk with her. That kind of thing with Jake Magno—that must never happen again. Not even in the slightest. He must develop an airtight system, something that must ensure Claire's safety, above all else. Because if something happens to Claire, God help him, but he won't be able to forgive himself.

Ah, Claire. What is it about that woman? As days go by, he discovers things—both big and small—that erode his hatred of women, especially after what Michelle did to him. Claire seems to be—without her realizing it, just by being herself—different. Gabriel Tan has never met anyone like her. "But I am still a vɨrġɨn, sir," Claire said once, during one of their awkward conversations, and Gabriel smiles at the memory. Such naiveté. She's all woman and all girl at the same time.

What if there's a future in this? What if this could continue, even beyond the arranged time? What if this doesn't only last thirty days, but years. Maybe a lifetime? Maybe. But Gabriel doesn't allow himself to hold on to hope. He has been hurt before. He's not ready to open himself up again.

But still. Each day brings with it new surprises. That scene in the penthouse suite, seeing her all nȧkėd like that. Not to mention putting his own life on the line just to save her from a monster like Jake. What does it all mean? Was it all for nothing? No. There are a few things he must fix in his life—Miguel, Michelle, her own mother Matilde—but who's to say he couldn't do all the fixing all at the same time? What if he could have Claire in his life, never let her go?

He's at an intersection waiting for the light to go green, when he realizes he's thirsty. He needs some cold beverage. He looks around—there's a Starbucks in the corner. Gabriel has no idea of where his people get his favorite caffeine drink, so he has no idea of what this particular Starbucks' importance is in his life.

He leisurely parks his Benz sedan in front of the coffee shop. He only wants one thing: grande, quad, nonfat, one-pump, no-whip mocha. But he's been standing in line for minutes when he looks around and notices a very familiar profile sitting at a table, laughing with some ripped dude.

It's Claire. And she looks like she's enjoying the company of this unknown dude. What in hell? He'd just left her in the company of his brother, Miguel. How come she's here, with a different man? A man he has never met?

He feels a surge of anger. Or jealousy. Or wait, is it confusion? Doesn't matter, because even as he tries to settle his feelings, he's walking toward Claire's table so fast that he doesn't notice that a stupid chair is in the way—because if he did, he wouldn't have tripped and fall upon Claire's very table like the world's biggest idiot.