Moving In

Chapter Eleven: Moving In

Diane followed Gabriel out of the room, purposefully clicking her feet against the polished hardwood floor.

He hadn't come here, not since handing her the keys and leaving her with a hollow promise of independence.

His sudden reappearance made her feel both unease and frustration.

"Gabriel," she called after him in a quite commanding tone.

He paused at the base of the staircase, his back straightened and composed, as though he had been waiting for her to follow.

"What are you doing in my house?"

He turned slowly, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Your house?" he repeated in a cool voice. "Last I checked, I bought it."

"Yes," Diane snapped, crossing her arms. "For me."

Gabriel's eyes raked over her, sharp and assessing, before he closed the distance between them.

Diane resisted the urge to take a step back as he loomed closer. He looked so commanding and suffocating.

"You want me to be your husband," he said quietly, "to act like your husband. And yet you dare to bring another man into my house?"

Diane's heart pounded, but she kept her expression calm.

"You chose to live separately, Gabriel," she replied back.

"You made it clear that this arrangement was for convenience, not companionship."

Gabriel's hand shot out, his fingers brushed her jaw as he cupped her face with weird gentleness.

Diane froze as he leaned in closer, his lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I won't let you tarnish my reputation, Diane," he murmured. "If you choose to sleep with another man, divorce me."

Diane's lips curled into a small smirk.

She couldn't afford to divorce him—not yet.

Not until she reached her father and dealt with Rachel's manipulations.

Lifting her head slightly, she met Gabriel's eyes with her own aura.

"You wish for that," she said softly.

She turned away before he could respond, heading for the stairs. Her shoulders felt stiff from the tension her so-called husband caused.

As she reached the first step, Gabriel's voice stopped her.

"The scars on your back."

Diane paused, gripping the banister tightly.

Her heart clenched, but she refused to turn around.

"I'll start treating them next week," Gabriel continued in a soft tone, almost as if he was offering an olive branch. But Diane knew better than to respond now.

Without a word, she resumed walking, leaving him behind.

The next morning, Diane woke to the faint scent of coffee and birdsong.

She slipped out of bed and pulled on a light robe, heading to the balcony that overlooked the garden.

The flowers were in full bloom, colors brightened the crisp morning air.

She sipped her coffee, letting the warmth of the cup soothe her nerves, when someone's moves in the garden caught her attention.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Riot near the hedges, shirtless and using clippers to trim the bushes.

He worked with an ease that made her wonder if he had done this sort of thing before.

His lean, muscular frame was shining slightly in the sunlight, and Diane couldn't help but be distracted by the sight.

Before she could call out to him, a loud rumble of engines drew her attention to the driveway.

A moving truck rolled up, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Workers began unloading furniture, boxes, and other belongings.

Diane's blood ran cold as she saw Gabriel standing by the truck, directing the movers with his usual composed authority.

Her grip on the coffee cup tightened. What the hell is he doing now?

Setting the cup down, she walked back into the house and downstairs. Her anger started boiling just like an old volcano.

When she reached the foyer, she found Gabriel standing by the door, pressing his phone to his ear as he gave instructions.

"Gabriel," Diane called sharply.

He turned, ending his call with a quick word before slipping his phone into his pocket.

"Good morning, Diane," he said smoothly, as though he hadn't just turned her world upside down.

"What is all this?" she demanded, gesturing toward the moving truck.

"I'm moving in."

Diane's jaw dropped. "You're what?"

He stepped closer, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"You said it yourself, Diane. I'm your husband. It's time I started acting like it."

"This is my space," she snapped, raising her voice. "You've stayed away for days, and now decided to move in without even asking?"

"I didn't realize I needed your permission to live in my own house."

Diane's hands clenched into fists. "You gave me this house so you wouldn't have to deal with me."

"And now I've changed my mind." His tone sounded indifferent, as though the discussion was already settled.

Before Diane could say anything else, Riot appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a rag.

He glanced between them, catching the tension in the air.

"Is everything okay here?" he asked casually, though there was an edge to his tone that made Gabriel glance at him warily.

"Fine," Gabriel said curtly. "This doesn't concern you."

Riot raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe.

"When it concerns Diane, it concerns me."

Diane gave Riot a warning look, silently pleading for him not to escalate the situation.

Riot smirked slightly but held his ground, clearly enjoying Gabriel's irritation.

"I don't need your protection," Diane said firmly, stepping between them. "I can handle this."

Riot hesitated. His gaze remained on her for a moment before he nodded.

"Alright. But I'll be around if you need me."

He turned and walked back toward the garden, leaving Diane and Gabriel alone.

Diane faced Gabriel again. This wasn't in her past life. Gabriel was ignoring her. He didn't love her.

He was supposed to hate her…

"This isn't happening," she said in a trembling voice that was restraining her anger.

"You can't just move in here and act like nothing's changed."

Gabriel stepped closer. He liked how annoyed Diane was while staying in his presence.

"I can, and I will," he said quietly. "And you'll do well to remember that we're still married, Diane. That means what's mine is yours—and what's yours is mine."

She glared at him, her chest kept rising and falling as she tried to steady her breathing.

"You're doing this to control me."

"I'm doing this to protect my interests," Gabriel replied in a cold tone. "And you, Diane, are one of those interests."

Diane's jaw tightened.

She couldn't afford to let Gabriel disrupt her plans.

She needed to maintain control, to stay focused on her goal of contacting her father without tipping her hand… she needed him on her side, so that Adrian and Richard wouldn't hurt her.

She was planning to use Gabriel to get in touch with her father, but Riot was capable of the same damn thing.

And Riot seemed loyal. He was arrogant, but he was loyal.

"Fine," she said finally, and then scoffed. "Move in if you want. But don't think for a second that this changes anything between us."

Gabriel smiled faintly, as though he had already won. "Of course not."

"And you will heal my scars."

"I told you yesterday that I will—"

Diane interrupted him. "No…" she whispered. "You will heal them because I will help you to protect your property and assets."