Chapter 33

Gabriela's lips curled in silent disdain.

Honestly, it was exhausting-Phyllis couldn't stop herself from taking cheap shots, clinging to her childish sense of superiority. Gabriela couldn't even be bothered to fire back.

Josh,finally shaking off his daze, frowned at Phyllis's biting words. "Gabriela might just be living her life,you know. There's no reason to assume the worst every time."

Phyllis bristled at Josh's unexpected support. Her voice turned shrill. "Dad, did you forget how she used to work those bars in high school-selling drinks, flirting with random men, doing whatever she had to for money? Those places were crawling with shady guys. It was disgusting. And Gabriela actually bragged about it!"

A flush of anger crept over Gabriela's face, her jaw tightening.

Since freshman year, Marie had quietly pocketed Gabriela's tuition money, secretly hoping she would drop out without a fuss. When Gabriela finally brought this to Josh's attention, he chose to believe Marie's story and blamed Gabriela for wasting the money.

Left with no other choice, Gabriela started picking up weekend jobs, scraping together every dollar shécould just to stay in school.

That bitter episode became the perfect ammunition for Phyllis, fueling the rumors she spread.

Now, after hearing Phyllis's slander again, Josh felt his faith begin to waver.

Year after year, Marie would hand over the supposed tuition, and yet, Gabriela always seemed to be hustling for cash, insisting she had to pay her own way. To him, it looked like she was just making excuses-spending time with the wrong crowd and earning a bad reputation.

A heavy sense of guilt settled over Josh-he'd failed to discipline Gabriela, betraying his late sister's trust Marie summoned up a wounded expression. "Everyone says being a stepmom is tough, but let me tell you,being the aunt isn't a walk in the park either. I've always treated you fairly, Gabriela-anything Phyllis had,you had too. Yet you still insisted on chasing odd jobs, dragging my name through the mud with the neighbors."

Josh rushed to Marie's side, his tone stern as he turned to Gabriela. "Gabriela, you need to cut ties with that old rich guy. Do what Marie says and stop making things harder for her."

Dustin,caught off guard by Gabriela's past, felt his earlier bruised ego soften just a little.

His grip on Phyllis tightened as he murmured, "Phyllis, Gabriela clearly has no self-respect. Stop wasting your time worrying about her."

Phyllis tucked herself against him and replied obediently, "Alright."

She refused to believe the old man could keep hiding forever. With her wedding just around the corner, she was eager to meet Gabriela's so-called boyfriend.

Secretly,she intended to round up Gabriela's old classmates from both university and high school,hoping to drag her name through the mud in front of everyone.

Surveying their expressions, Gabriela felt a wave of bitter amusement.

Not a single one of them actually cared about her. What was the point in bickering with them?

Choosing to sidestep the drama entirely, Gabriela slipped away upstairs and retreated to her bedroom.

After a long, steaming shower, she glanced at the stack of documents left on her nightstand-Wesley had said there was something important to tackle tomorrow. Most likely, it meant burning the midnight oil memorizing every detail.

Wesley had a touch of narcissism about him, but she had to admit he'd helped her out tonight. Maybe he wasn't all bad after all.

Gabriela scooped up thestack of documents and began poring over them, letting those notes burn into her memory. That night, after hours hunched over documents about his personal details, she drifted into uneasy sleep-only to find Wesley starring in her vivid, undeniably heated dreams.

The following morning at the office, just catching sight of him sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.Her heart hammered wildly as she poured his coffee, unable to meet his eyes without reliving fragments of that dream.

Wesley noticed immediately, his gaze sharp with concern. "You look a little flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

Gabriela rushed to cover, shaking her head with a forced smile. "It's nothing-just stayed up too late cramming for those documents, that's all. I'm running on fumes."

Wesley arched a brow. "If that's the case, let's hear it. Recite what you memorized."

Caught off guard, Gabriela faltered; she hadn't fully absorbed the documents and planned to revisit them later-now her own lie had her cornered.

She gave a clumsy, fragmented summary, hoping it would pass.

Wesley's expression remained unsatisfied, his tone cool. "You're my secretary, Gabriela. If you can't even remember my preferences, it makes me question if you're really up to the job."

A wave of frustration swept over her. The documents were endless-pages of facts about Wesley's medical history and meticulous dietary restrictions, even specifying the exact number of sips of water he was supposed to take each day. There hadn't been enough time to master it all last night.

This was starting to feel less like secretarial work and more like some bizarre spouse audition.

Of course, Gabriela just swallowed those thoughts, schooling her tone into professional politeness. "Time was really tight yesterday, Mr. Moss. If you give me half a day more, I'll have everything committed to memory."

Wesley caught the flush still coloring her cheeks and chose not to push her. Instead, he asked mildly,"You've spent so much time memorizing-has anything stuck yet?"

Gabriela blinked,caught off guard."Excuse me?" For the first time, Wesley's ever-stoic eyes seemed to flicker with something she couldn't quite place,which only made her more flustered. "M-Mr. Moss..."

He cut her off, letting his face shutter into its usual icy calm. "Forget it." A beat of silence, then he dismissed her coldly. "You may go."

Gabriela couldn't make sense of Wesley's sudden chill. Returning to her desk, she hurriedly pulled out the stack of documents he'd assigned her, scanning them for anything she might have missed.

What on earth was she supposed to memorize for him?

While Gabriela buried herself in memorizing, her so-called boyfriend Brenden was stuck on the outskirts of Afluena,sweating through a grueling well-digging project.

Every strike of the shovel was met with stubborn, unyielding earth. Frustrated, he dropped to the ground with a sigh, dirt smudging his jeans and hopelessness settling in his gut.

The team leader stood off to the side, arms folded, watching with a look of wry amusement. "At this rate,Mr. Saunders, you'll still be digging when next year rolls around."

Billy's orders were unmistakable: no one was allowed to lend Brenden a hand. The most the team leader could do was shout the occasional pointer from a safe distance.

Brenden dragged the back of his hand across his brow, smearing a streak of mud. "I'm not a well-digger.Wesley just tossed me a shovel and told me to get to work. What does he expect me to do,dig to the center of the earth, or does he plan to keep me stranded in Claei Swea for life?"

"My sympathies," the feam leader murmured, careful not to challenge Wesley, just giving Brenden a gentle pat. "Hang in there. If you dig hard enough, maybe you'll earn your ticket home in a decade or so."

The remark did nothing to lift Brenden's spirits.

Right then, his phone buzzed. Fionå's name flashed on the screen.

Oblivious to his posting in Claei Swea, Fiona's voice trembled as she asked, "Brenden, did you find anyhing yet?" Staring out at the bleak, endless expanse, Brenden felt a pang of quiet despair.

To his surprise, Claei Swea offered gentle breezes, but the woman he'd recently dated refused to tag along.

Brenden's voice carried a defeated edge. "Just let it go, Fiona. Wesley's impossible to read. You'll never get a handle on that man."

Fiona sounded genuinely lost. "What are you talking about? Can't we meet in person and figure this out?"

"Not a chance," Brenden sighed, heavy with resignation. He gave her a quick rundown of his predicament."Maybe Wesley just has a type-someone who ticks every box for him. No one else will ever measure up."

He offered a few more words of gentle advice, then hung up and trudged back to his lonely, exhausting labor.

Fiona refused to back down. Why couldn't she be the one Wesley wanted?

She wasn't about to surrender without a fight.

Recalling that Wesley's grandmother, Loretta, was notoriously superstitious, Fiona hatched a plan on the spot.

By noon the next day, Wesley's phone buzzed with a call from Loretta."Wesley, Fiona stopped by this morning. She straightened out the whole business with those WhatsApp curses-it was just some silly mix-up."

Wesley, juggling a stack of documents, answered with measured patience. But then Loretta said something that stopped him cold. "She wanted to talk things out in person, but you unfriended her. I told her to come see you at the office. When she gets there, you'd better treat her properly, and don't you dare send her away."

A furrow creased Wesley's brow.

What on earth had Fiona done to win Loretta over so completely, and so abruptly?

Now his grandmother was insisting Fiona show up at his office, forcing the issue right into his daily life. Was this Loretta's way of pushing him to accept Fiona, whether he liked it or not?