Chapter 52

Gabriel’s eyes snapped to me. He wore a dark blue blazer over a white shirt. “He said that,” he stated.

“When?” I asked.

“The day I resigned.”

“Okay.” My eyebrows furrowed at his disinterest. “What did he mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Gabriel.” I looked at him directly, hands crossed.

He sighed, shut the wardrobe door, removed his cufflinks from a drawer, and turned, wearing a golden pin with the letter W—for Whitlock, I guessed. Viktor and he attended the same university. We were never friends, but we moved in the same circles. “Lily was his girlfriend when she kissed me.”

I pursed my lips, feeling the familiar heavy feeling in my chest—a feeling that seemed to appear whenever Lily was mentioned. “So, she cheated on him with you.”

“Sort of,” Gabriel shrugged, as if it were inconsequential. “It’s been four years. Looks like he still holds a grudge.”

“It’s possible he thought she was the one, just like you,” I retorted, flipping my hair, my tone bitter.

His eyebrows rose; he’d noticed.

Avoiding his gaze, I turned, grabbing my bag. “I’m joining as Sofia Baker. I want to make my own name, make friends who don’t want to hang out with me because I’m their boss’s wife. Those who know me, know me. Those who don’t will know me as Baker.”

I knew he was frowning, but he said nothing, simply following me from the room.

My unusually tall stilettos clicked on the marble floors with every step. I might have also overdone my makeup slightly. If people knew I was Gabriel’s wife, I had to look the part. If they didn’t, well, a good first impression couldn’t hurt.

I asked the driver to stop a block from the building, causing my husband, who was engrossed in a file and likely thrilled to be back at work after a few weeks, to look up. “What?”

“I can’t be seen arriving with the boss on my first day,” I said, opening the door.

His frown deepened. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds? You are my wife; of course, you’ll be coming with me.”

“They don’t know that, do they?” I offered a saccharine smile, so fake it even surprised me. I was still angry about the Lily and Viktor situation, jealous that he’d apparently wanted her enough to steal her from another man.

I think he muttered something under his breath—something like, “She’s impossible”—but I’d already gotten out and shut the door.

I walked alone, head held high, aware that Gabriel wasn’t driving ahead; his driver maintained a slow pace behind me. This was partly because I’d been kidnapped once, and on my first day, I’d thrown a fit about the lack of bodyguards.

I felt a pang of guilt. But I was also allowed to have a tantrum or two. I was not only sexually frustrated, but also angry—both because of the same man.