CHAPTER THREE
1269 Words
GABRIELLE’S POV
I woke up the next morning when the sun was already out, the bright lights seeping into the bedroom through the see through walls.
I blinked a few times, disoriented, before the events of last night came rushing back to me.
I groaned as I sat up, my brain pounding so hard in my head. I closed my eyes and waited for it to pass but it didn’t.
“Oh, there she is,” a voice said. “You look so peaceful when you sleep. Nothing like the drunk who dented my car.”
I popped my eyes open but winced when the light hit them again. I turned toward the voice, my pulse quickening instantly.
The stranger from last night stood by the glass wall, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and sleeves rolled halfway, holding a mug of coffee.
The city skyline stretched behind him. High-rise buildings, glittering sunlight, and the faint sound of traffic far below.
My heart skipped. “Where am I?”
He took a sip, unbothered. “One of my places.”
I looked down at myself under the sheets and realized I was naked. My face burned hot red.
Did I give my virginity to this obnoxious stranger last night?
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh my God.”
“Relax. Nothing happened.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what men say before women find out something did happen.”
His lips curl faintly but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If I’d wanted to take advantage of you, I wouldn’t have carried you up just to put you to bed.”
I peeked at him through my fingers. “You carried me?”
“You insisted you could walk. You made it to the elevator, then fell asleep against the wall.”
I let out a slow breath. “Great. Humiliation level: complete.”
He shrugged, still watching me. “You talk in your sleep too.”
My head shot up. “What did I say?”
He tilted his head, his face expressionless. “Something about stabbing a twin and stealing a dog.”
I groaned again, dragging a pillow over my face. “Kill me now.”
“I’d rather make you breakfast,” he said, already heading toward the door. “You need something in your system before that hangover kills you.”
I peeked at him from under the pillow. “You cook?”
He stopped, one hand on the doorframe. “I make a mean omelet. And coffee strong enough to wake the dead.”
I hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m not staying long.”
“Didn’t think you would.” He turned slightly, his eyes glinting. “But you might want to put on some clothes first.”
I looked down and groaned. “How did I get naked if nothing happened between us?”
He smirked. “Who said nothing happened between us. Look at your finger.”
I stared down at my fingers to see a rock on one of them. A wedding ring. And it wasn’t the one Jared got me.
My breath caught in my throat. “What the hell is this?”
He took another slow sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug like he was enjoying every second of my confusion.
“Looks like a ring,” he said simply.
“Don’t play games with me.” My voice came out shaky. “Did you—did we—get married?”
He set the mug down on the table beside him and slipped his hands into his pockets, walking closer. “You insisted on it.”
“I what?”
“You wouldn’t stop crying about being ‘the only bride left unwed on her wedding day’ so you made me prove you weren’t.” His tone was so casual it made my stomach twist.
I stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He tilted his head, studying me. “You signed the documents. I have the CCTV footage with audio if you want.”
I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. “You’re joking.”
He shrugged. “You were very persuasive. The chapel was open and the officiant owed me a favor. You said yes… twice.”
I clutched the sheets tighter to my chest. “You married a drunk woman?”
He leaned forward slightly, voice low and maddeningly calm. “I didn’t force you to do anything, Gabrielle. You begged me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone on your wedding night.”
“You f*****g bastard!” I spat.
His expression remained cold. “I haven’t even told you the best part. You should be thanking me for not sleeping with you after you begged me to.”
My jaw dropped. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I think you need this more than I do,” he said, handing over his cup of coffee. “You striped down and begged me to consummate our marriage. I looked away, of course. But from the little I saw, I was impressed.”
My chest tightened. “Oh my God.”
I stared at him, my face burning with humiliation and fury. My throat tightened, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to scream or cry first.
“You’re disgusting,” I hissed. “You actually went through with it? You couldn’t have s*x with a drunk woman but you asked her to marry you?”
He arched a brow. “Technically, you were the one doing the asking. Besides, a drunk woman can’t give s****l consent.”
“Don’t turn this on me!” I snapped, throwing the pillow at him. It hit his chest, but he didn’t even move. “You could’ve said no!”
“I tried. You were very persuasive.”
I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you were crying in a bar wearing a wedding dress. I know you said your fiancé and your sister betrayed you. And I know you didn’t want to go home.” His eyes flicked down to the ring still on my finger. “Now, I also know you don’t like taking off my ring.”
I yanked it off and threw it at him. “We’re getting this annulled. Today.”
He caught it midair, his fingers closing easily around it. “You can try.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Means you signed something real. Not some napkin promise. The chapel filed it. We’re legally married, Mrs. Gravari.”
The words hit me like ice water. “Gravari?”
He smiled slowly. “Damon Gravari. Congratulations to us, wife.”
My breath stuttered. “You son of a—”
He cut me off with a quiet laugh. “You’ll thank me later. After breakfast.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Oh, I could just make you pancakes,” he went on, completely ignoring me.
I couldn’t believe my ears. This had to be a joke. But my wedding dress on the floor in the middle of the room told me it wasn’t.
“Welcome back to reality, wife,” he said nonchalantly, walking out of the room. “There’s painkiller and water on the nightstand for you. I’ll have breakfast done in a few minutes.”
My throat ran dry.
What the f**k did I get myself into?
- Writer
