Chapter 2 — Unapologetic

Gabriel

Gabriel pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

He hates being here. He wishes vehemently that he were back in Miami, basking under that hot sun he has come to love, with Paula by his side. Fuck, how he misses her. She's been trying to call him for the past couple of hours, but he doesn't have the heart to answer her. She has no idea that his wedding was today, that he was even engaged to begin with, so explaining all of this to her will be a little complicated.

He didn't want to marry Vivienne Hill.

That's that. He's not a bullshitter, never was. That decision was made years ago, and he agreed with it because, well, back then he thought she was beautiful. He wasn't like Daniel, he was sheltered. He didn't go out to parties, all he focused on was school. Little did he know that his degree wouldn't get him any-fucking-where, but that's not the point. They had a lot in common, and even though she was a couple of years younger, she wasn't like other girls. She was different.

But he left, and he got to know himself. He kept talking to her only because he felt obligated to. He led her on; it was a shitty thing to do, but he didn't want to leave her hanging. She was a kind and sweet girl, and he isn't heartless. Over time, though, everything started changing. He no longer had time to keep entertaining her, and secretly, whenever his mother called, he hoped she would tell him that Vivienne married someone else. Or died. Anything.

When he received the phone call from his father telling him he had to marry the girl, he was disappointed. Did they really expect him to keep his word? He was fucking eighteen back then. He's a man now. He planned on telling them that he had changed his mind, that he was in another relationship, but when his father laid it all down on the table, he realized that he didn't have a choice.

It was either her or poverty.

Well, not necessarily poverty, but they were in trouble. They had a huge shipment that the Feds got a hold of, and they needed her family's connections and influence to get things rolling. His father only made the offer because even back then, they were facing troubles. No one knew it, though. Dave had important men in his pocket. This would save his family and he wasn't going to be immature about it. Besides, he could always get a divorce when they got what they needed from the Hills. That's what he intends to do, as soon as possible. No one's going to dare to stop him. He's going to marry Paula. She's the one he loves.

He knows everyone's going to yapping in his fucking ear come tomorrow, because he left so suddenly, without the bride, but that's tomorrow's fucking problem. Right now, he plans on getting drunk and forgetting that he's a fucking married man.

His phone pings with a new notification. It's a text from Paula.

You're not answering my calls, baby. I'm worried about you. xo

He puts his phone away. He's going to deal with this shit in the morning, when everything will be more settled.

He doesn't have it in him to feel sorry for the girl. He feels sorry for himself. Fuck, what's he supposed to do with her? He doesn't even remember a single conversation they had. She looks at him with those doe eyes and whenever they met in places, she'd keep bringing up a past he doesn't care about. It's irritating. He knew that if he told her this, she might change her mind about marrying him, and if she did that, his father would kill him. So would his mother. She can't stand the thought of budgeting. She's been having a hard time lately.

He has to admit, though, that a part of him died a little at the sight of her exiting that restroom. She looked so hopeless, so desolate. He meant the apology, or at least he thought he did.

He can't find it in himself to act like he's interested in her. She's got a heart shaped mouth that he'd stare at whenever she spoke, back then, and her button nose crinkled whenever she talked about something unpleasant. Her hazel eyes are wide and have that innocent look, too innocent. He remembers these tiny details, but can't figure out where his feelings came from. He just knows that he was enchanted by her poise and her aura. But that was a long fucking time ago. Bottom line, she's not even his fucking type. At all.

Not anymore.

So he reserved a separate hotel room. There's no way he's going to be sharing a room with her. They're already married, he can do whatever he wants now. In fact, he'll be leaving in a few days, hopefully tomorrow, if his parents will let him. He needs to return to Miami and take care of everything there. He doesn't trust that two-faced bitch Patrick.

Plus, he's dying to see Paula. He's been here for too long.

There's a knock on his door and his heart sinks. But it's just Daniel, staring at him with a wide grin. "You're the biggest dick in the world."

"Don't fucking start. I'm not in the mood."

"It's your fucking wedding. You can't grow balls for a few hours and smile for the pictures? You're making it obvious that you're in it for the money."

Gabriel turns around, two deep lines between his brows. "I'm not in it for the money. Dad is."

Daniel shrugs. "Same thing. Just get back down there. Everyone's going to talk about it. There's a shit ton of people down there watching us. Can't you get over your ego for a single night?"

He scoffs. "It's easy for you to say that. You're not the one married to her."

"She's not the wicked witch of the west," Daniel says with a scoff of his own. "She's actually pretty and I still remember when you couldn't shut up about her. Aren't you afraid that she might ask for an annulment?"

"She won't do that."

"You know her that well, do you? She doesn't look happy. She's moping and it's painfully obvious. She's probably regretting this already and everyone's got a limit. It's either you play your part well or this will all have been in vain. What's going through your head? You can't run from her forever."

"I can and I will." Gabriel takes a sip of his drink. He knew this would happen, and frankly, he prepared for it. He knows Vivienne's type well. She's proud, she won't ask for a divorce. Not yet, at least. He has time. Besides, he sees the way she looks at him. She's still in love with him. He's given her just enough for her to assume that this will change. He knows how to play this game well.

He's an expert at it.

Daniel shakes his head. "Grow the fuck up, Gabriel. This isn't Florida, where you're idolized like some kind of god. People will talk, and you know how dad feels about that."

Gabriel doesn't answer him. He's got enough on his mind and he doesn't have to worry about this sham of a wedding or Vivienne Hill. He needs to give Paula a better answer or she'll leave him, and he needs to find a way to get Patrick out of their business. He's slow and he's going to bring them down. Gabriel was gone for six months and their profits dwindled significantly. He's a moron and he doesn't belong in their world.

That's something his father could never understand.

Patrick is his first cousin. His parents died when he was sixteen in a tragic car accident. Ever since, his father had been looking out for him. That's just how his father was. He didn't abandon anyone who had Emerson blood coursing through their veins. His mother hated that about him too. They were never successful in convincing him otherwise.

He's going to take matters in his own hands now.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Gabriel turns to him. "Of course I am. You worry too much, alright? This isn't even your problem. I'll be alright, just get out of here and get drunk or something. What's your wife up to?"

Daniel frowns. "What the hell are you insinuating?"

"It's a genuine question. I wasn't insinuating anything."

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"You've already mentioned it."

Daniel leaves him alone. Finally, some peace and quiet. He shouldn't have mentioned Francesca, it's a low blow. Still, he can't be concerned about his life when his wife is probably somewhere fucking another man. Oh yeah, Gabriel knows about her infidelity. He knows because she made a move against him once, when he was much younger, but he rejected her and never told Daniel. It's not that Daniel loves her unconditionally; they've got a kid and she plays the role of the good wife too well. Only Gabriel knows about her, no one else.

There was a scandal a few years back. She'd allegedly been sleeping with the cook, who has since been fired. She denied it, they cleared up the 'misunderstanding', but Gabriel knew what she was capable of, and Daniel was sore about it for weeks even though he didn't believe she slept with the guy.

Their family's a little fucked up.

But whose family isn't?

He checks the time. It's too early, just eleven. He thinks of taking Daniel's advice, but decides against it. He's done his part, they can't expect him to stick around all night. It's better this way, especially for the girl.

His phone starts ringing. It's not his mother, thankfully, but it's someone even worse: Patrick. He contemplates not answering his call. He's probably only calling to bitch about something that has a simple solution. He's such a fucking idiot, and he doesn't know why his father insists that they work together. His father's too generous for his own good.

Thankfully, he doesn't have the Emerson generosity. He's all Forbes-Lancaster, his mother's side.

He slides his thumb across the screen and answers. It's better this way. He'll get this done and over with right now. "What?"

"I know it's your wedding, but I need your help, dude." Yes, he knew it had something to do with needing help. Patrick is just so predictable.

"What is it this time?"

"It's the Puerto Ricans," he begins. "They want that thing. You know what I'm talking about."

He tenses. He didn't think they'd come for it this soon. He starts pacing around his room. "Tell them to wait until I get there."

"They're insistent. They're here right now, and they don't leave unless I give them what they want."

He runs his hand through his hair. "Let me talk to Carlos."

It takes a minute, but he finally convinces them to wait until tomorrow, which means he's going to have to leave tonight, or early tomorrow morning. He's infuriated at Patrick for being so useless, but at least he gets an excuse to go back. So thank God for Patrick, that idiot.

He drains his glass and slams it on the table. He needs to look for his father, tell him about what's going on. It's serious, and they can't trust Patrick with this.

This'll be the perfect excuse, it couldn't have gotten better than this. He'll leave early and he'll have his father's permission to do so. No one will say he didn't try. He's going to stay in Miami for a long time, indefinitely. He misses Paula and he never should have left. He wants to get far away from this city and his responsibilities. He's not coming back to his supposed wife.

When he does return, it'll be to sign those divorce papers.