Chapter 65

Wesley sat in his study, the rustle of turning pages the only sound as he immersed himself in his book.

When the think tank members arrived with Billy in tow, he barely looked up, only instructing them to keep things concise-this was, after all, their final meeting before everyone scattered for the New Year holiday.

In meetings, Wesley's presence carried a natural weight. His cold, unreadable stare was enough to make people drop their gaze, and he usually steered discussions with effortless control.

Yet today, Billy's sidelong glances kept breaking the rhythm.

Wesley's brow tightened.

Was Billy still sour about being left to wait in the rain at the beach last night? Despite the undercurrent of distractions, the agenda moved briskly, each point settled with Wesley's usual precision.

The meeting wrapped up, and, as was customary,Wesley distributed year-end bonuses to the team.

This time, though, he went further-Billy received not only the bonus but also a sleek black Cayenne from his garage, a car so pristine it might as well have just rolled out of the showroom.

"The company's had a great year. I appreciate your hard work, Billy," Wesley said, his tone calm but firm.

Though their own bonuses were nothing to scoff at,the think tank members couldn't help a flicke of envy at the lavish gift.

Billy, on the other hand, stood frozen, staring at the car keys, trying to gauge whether this waspure generosity... or Wesley's way of buying his silence.

After all, he knew more than anyone else about what was going on between Wesley and Gabriela. Still, who could turn down the temptation of a gleaming luxury car?

Billy wasted no time snatching up the keys, flashing a grin. "Relax, Mr. Moss. Last night stays between us."

Wesley could only stare at him in silence.

Half an hour in a light drizzle and Billy was acting like a martyr?

The car was supposed to be a bonus, not some consolation prize for getting wet.

If Billy wanted to spin it that way, Wesley wasn't about to correct him.

As Billy and the think tank filed out of the study, the team couldn't help but shoot envious glances his way over the prize Wesley had given him.

"I've seen Mr. Moss take that Cayenne for a spin-it's a stunner."

"Now I'm tempted to trade my car in for something flashier."Passing through the living room, Billy waved the others on and drifted toward Gabriela. With a clenched fist for emphasis, he murmured, "If you run into trouble, just come find me. I've got your back."

Gabriela blinked in mild confusion.

It seemed Billy's recent triumph in winning over his girlfriend had put him in such a generous mood that even she-a lowly secretary-was swept up in it.

A pang of guilt pricked at her as she remembered how Billy had been left standing in the rain while she stayed warm and dry beneath an umbrella, quietly watching everything unfold.

Feeling a flicker of embarrassment, she gave him a small nod. "Thanks, Mr. Clarke."

Noticing the shadow in her eyes, Billy offered a reassuring pat on her shoulder. "Come on, cheer up -you're amazing."

With that, he pocketed the car keys, straightened his tie, and strode off toward his new car, his steps practically humming with excitement.

Gabriela watched his buoyant energy and couldn't help murmuring, "Love really is a beautiful thing."

Miriam wasted no time in chiming back. "Your turn will come soon enough."

By then, she had already spotted the freshly knitted mitten in Gabriela's lap.

She accepted the knitting from Gabriela with a warm smile. "Your hands are so nimble, Gabriela. Every stitch is perfectly even-absolutely lovely."

Gabriela's cheeks warmed under the praise."That's only because you taught me so well."

With a playful glint in her eyes, Miriam reached for a bundle of soft, pale yarn. "Come on, I'll show you how to knit a scarf."

Gabriela's face lit up. "I'd love to."

As they worked, Miriam's natural gift for chatter spilled out-she wandered from talking about the vases and coffee sets around the house, to Wesley's preferred coffee blend, and even the blooms in the backyard. Even if Gabriela merely listened, Miriam could fill the room with easy conversation for hours.

When Wesley finally appeared, the sight that greeted him was quietly endearing.

Gabriela was sitting close beside Miriam, their heads nearly touching, hands busy with needles and yarn,sharing gentle talk over the small, comforting details of daily life.

The scene radiated quiet contentment.

A faint smile tugged at Wesley's lips, a wave of warmth and ease settling over him.

After lingering for a moment longer, he retreated to his study and picked up his book again.

Gabriela, oblivious to his brief visit, kept her focus on the scarf in her hands.

Her injured foot kept her mostly anchored to the couch, and the steady rhythm of knitting felt like a pleasant novelty. She spent much of the afternoon there, and by the time dinner rolled around,half the scarf was done.

The design unfurled into a delicate pattern of branching leaves, refined enough to draw the eye whether examined up close or admired from a distance.

Gabriela's lips curved in quiet satisfaction.

A voice spoke from nearby, warm and matter-of-fact."Your hands really are skillful."

Thinking it was Miriam, Gabriela laughed lightly. "actually find knitting a scarf easier than making mittens.Here,look..."

She turned, scarf in hand, and froze. Standing beside the couch was an old woman she didn't recognize.

The woman wore a neat, plain blouse, its simple lines immaculate. Her gray hair was neatly combed, and though time had etched fine lines into her face, hints of the beauty she once possessed still lingered in her features.

It took Gabriela a moment to recover before she asked politely, "Hello, ma'am. Who are you here to see?"

The visitor was none other than Wesley's grandmother, Loretta.

Loretta's sharp gaze swept over Gabriela, taking in every detail. The young woman's beauty was undeniable-exactly as Miriam had claimed. In looks,she could stand beside Wesley without drawing any complaints.

Her character, though... that remained unclear for now.

Before Loretta could respond, several servants appeared, arms laden with oversized bags. They bowed slightly asone of them asked with deference,"Where would you like these placed,madam?"

"Set them in the backyard-find a spacious spot,"Loretta instructed briskly. Once the orders were given, she pivoted back to Gabriela, her tone abrupt. "Your name?"

Though the old woman's manner held little warmth,Gabriela kept her poise and answered with quiet courtesy, "Gabriela Haynes."

"What do you do? How are you connected to my grandson? And what brings you here?"

Gabriela caught on immediately-this had to be Wesley's grandmother-and answered with a polite smile, "I'm Mr. Moss's personal secretary. I've injured my foot..."

Loretta cut her off.a secretary."

Her mind went straight to what Wesley had once mentioned about a young woman Fiona had trampled over.

Recently, Fiona had been quietly using a fortune-teller to feed Loretta the belief that she was the perfect match for Wesley.

To Loretta, that notion still held firm-Fiona was in

her eyes, a woman blessed by fate and destined to be with Wesley.

When Miriam phoned to announce that Wesley had brought a girlfriend home, Loretta's first response was a flash of disapproval.

In her eyes, it was hardly proper for a young woman to stay at a man's house before marriage. Finding out that Gabriela was Wesley's secretary only intensified her hostility.

Her gaze swept over Gabriela with quiet scrutiny.

Gabriela's face was small and exquisitely proportioned, every delicate line of her bone structure lending her an elegance that would hold its beauty for years.

Large, luminous eyes tilted upward at the corners beneath finely arched double lids, their warmth offset by a slender, well-shaped nose.

The combination gave her an air both innocent and faintly alluring. Despite her reservations about Gabriela, Loretta murmured, "You really are beautiful."

Fiona had beauty, but Gabriela outshone her.

Gabriela, unable to hear those quiet words, tilted her head politely. "Pardon me, madam-what did you say?"

Loretta blinked as if roused from a daze, then curtly said, "Come with me."

Setting aside her half-finished scarf, Gabriela rose and followed.

Loretta's stride was quick and sure, the product of decades of farm work that kept her spry even in her later years.

Gabriela, slowed by her aching foot, lagged several paces behind.

Unaware of Gabriela's injury, Loretta mistook the lag for frailty. Her disapproval settled even deeper.