Gabrielle's hands touched her bare neck as she stared into the vanity mirror. She looked like the night had aged her. Her fingers traced the weary lines on her face.
What a bloody day.
Her eyes widened instantly." shit, I forgot to ask Mrs. Puff to get me out of this dress," she said to no one in particular.
She let out a heavy breath. She'd have to take this off herself.
She stood up, her fingers struggling to reach the zip at the back of her dress. Sweat and exhaustion claimed her.
Her chest heaved from the effort, her eyes shut tight as she struggled.
Then she heard it, a voice. She sprang up, searching her room for the intruder.
She found him, but it wasn't an intruder. It was Edward.
His eyes, dark and gloomy, just stared at her.
He leaned majestically against the oak doors of her room, legs crossed, a hand in his pocket. Dangerous.
Her heart beat frantically as she stared back; her feet were glued to the spot. Her voice - useless.
The air was charged and hot, sending shivers down her spine.
What did he want? Why was he here?
The questions ignited fear in her.
He finally spoke. "Do you need help with your gown?" His voice was low, the rumble of it reaching her very soul.
She reached up, grabbing a lock of hair. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked carefully. The high ceilings seemed to press down on her.
He leaned against the door, standing straight. "We need to talk," he said quietly.
Sending goose bumps down her spine, as alarm bells rang in her mind.
No words left her lips.
He let out a breath. "It is about Emilia," he said as he walked toward her, slowly; with each step he took, the room seemed to shrink.
Her body screamed for her to retreat. But her feet were glued to the ground.
Edward's broader shoulders were now only inches from her face. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could smell him.
He looked down at her. "When you came, we were supposed to discuss parenting rights." He paused, giving her time to process that.
Her feet moved back of their own accord, a futile attempt to put distance between her heart and his cold demands.
"Well, I would like to have that discussion now. Emilia is the heir to the Harrington wealth. I am to have full custody of Emilia," his voice final. His gaze on her, daring her to oppose him.
And oppose him she did.
Her eyes narrowed at his words, her body rigid, her knuckles turning white as her hands curled into a fist. "Out of the question," her voice cool, too calm like a slithering snake.
His lips curved in a twisted smile. "You think to challenge me?" he took one deliberate step closer.
His presence was unmistakably male and predatory.
Her back straightened even as her pulse raced." I am not leaving my daughter," she shot back.
He laughed in her face." You want to subject the Harrington heir to a life of poverty," he growled, the veins in his neck bulging with restrained anger. "You think I didn't notice your dress, and the dress you put my daughter in, worn the fuck out."
She gasped, as if poked by a thorn. Well, that was why she was here, was it not?
His pointed finger leveled at her." You can't afford the life Emilia deserves," meaning it.
She shifted gears, her mind racing to find the leverage she needed. It was time.
" You can take her to the best schools, but you can't buy her happiness if you send her mother away. Where I go, she goes," her voice unwavering.
" You want the heir? You take the mother," her resolve firm.
He took a step back as the weight of her ultimatum settled in. "Fine. You stay here with Emilia, but you follow my rules," his voice low, as he lowered his head, his arms crossed as his biceps tensed.
" Not that easy," she snapped. "You are asking me to leave my life, my job, my family behind to stay here. I will be getting compensated," she said, unyieldingly, sweat dripping down her back.
His expression tightened.
He regarded her intently as if asking for the keys to her soul. "Interesting. You want compensation for caring for your daughter," he asked, measuringly.
Her features sharpened, her jaws clenching tight. "No, I am asking for compensation for the life you will be taking for me. You do not own me, nor do you own Emilia," she retorted, touching her lips with her tongue, her nerves heightened.
It was a simple movement, but his eyes followed them like a moth drawn to a flame; he swallowed.
His face tightened, a visible irritation at his own lack of self-control. "All I hear is a mother selling her daughter to the highest bidder," he snarled. "I will accept your terms."
She glared at him, her heart thudding as hurt seethed in.
Was that what she was doing?
Her chest rose and fell with a silent viciousness, tears brewing in her eyes. She didn't let them fall, though.
This was what she came here for. His money.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting for control, drawing in short, uneven breaths.
When she opened them, they were fierce.
She leaned back, letting the words settle like venom." Adrian must have skipped the family flaws, but you? You are definitely your mother's son."