Chapter 21

Gabriela couldn't help staring-Wesley looked almost unreal, standing there with the rain cascading off his umbrella. She scrambled to put on a bright smile and chirped, "Morning, Mr.Moss!"

Wait, hadn't he already gone inside? What was he doing back out here... and shielding her from the rain,no less?

Her mind spun, but she still managed a cheery wave,tilting her head, trying to look as sweet and endearing as possible.

Wesley's tone was even, but his gaze lingered on her "It's raining. Why are you crouched here?"

Realizing how awkward her posture looked, Gabriela straightened her back a little and answered truthfully,"My legs went numb."

For a moment, she thought she glimpsed a smile flicker in his eyes. Then, without warning, Wesley offered her his hand. "Come on. Get up."

Gabriela blinked slowly, disbelief flooding her eyes.

Was she really supposed to accept the CEO's hand like that?

Wesley leaned in, his voice a notch softer."Are you going to keep spacing out?"

His hand hovered closer. Panicking, Gabriela tried to leap to her feet, only to discover her legs were still wobbly.She lurched forward, completely off balance.

Wesley caught her, his hand steadying her as a faint,teasing smile flickered at the corner of his lips."What's this? Throwing yourself at me again?"

Gabriela, still unsettled after last night's awkward showdown over overtime pay, found herself strangely composed in the face of this new embarrassment.

After all, if Wesley had already gotten the wrong idea about her,things couldn't possibly get any worse.From that moment on, she knew she wouldn't be afraid of what came next.

She drew in a quiet breath, lifted her chin, and offered him the breakfast with both hands. "Mr. Moss, I brought you breakfast."

She had no idea how Brenden managed to get Wesley involved in something as trivial as breakfast delivery,but if Brenden dared to ask, their relationship had to be closer than she'd realized.

Wesley accepted the meal with a polite nod. "Thank you."

Without another word, he turned and strode back to his office.

Knowing winter mornings turned food icy in minutes,Gabriela had carefully sealed everything inside a sturdy thermal container.

When Wesley twisted off the lid, a comforting wave of steam drifted up, rich with the scent of freshly made breakfast.

Every detail showed how much care Gabriela had poured into the meal.

But as Wesley realized exactly who all this attention was for, an unwelcome irritation pricked at him.

From the sidelines, Billy nervously watched Wesley's ever-shifting expression, eyes glued to the little thermal container, uncertain how the scene would play out.

Without warning,Wesley plucked his phone from the desk and fired off a message to Gabriela. "This breakfast doesn't cut it."

At that moment, Gabriela had already made her way back to the sales department, powering up her computer to slog through another round of data entry.Aubrey,ever the gossip,hovered at her side, rehashing every juicy detail from last night's banquet.

Gabriela answered in distracted fragments, still simmering over being dragged into Brenden's games.When she caught sight of his text, her mood plummeted even further.

Of course a spoiled rich playboy who dined on five-star cuisine would turn his nose up at a plain breakfast.But why had she, of all people, become his chosen target for amusement?

Gabriela gritted her teeth but forced herself to swallow her frustration, her fingers hovering over the keyboard before she typed out a neutral reply. "What would you like to eat?"

Wesley, reading her mild response, only grew more irritable. His reply came back cold and fast. "I want another tomorrow, and you're cooking it yourself."

Gabriela's eyes widened in disbelief as her irritation hit a boiling point. But before she could react, another notification appeared. "I don't eat cilantro or onions.Nothing too sweet. No strong flavors, and absolutely no chili. Got it?"

That was it. Gabriela finally snapped, her fingers flying across the screen as she shot back, "You've got to be kidding,you jerk! You're so picky, but you still want me to cook? What if I just poison you instead?" Brenden knew exactly what she wanted-his silence about their night together and his cooperation in the boyfriend charade.

It gave him all the leverage he needed, and he relished every moment of keeping her on edge

Gabriela decided she'd had enough. If it meant losing her fake boyfriend and this internship, so be it.

With a top university on her résumé and a master's degree on the way, she had no reason to cower anymore.

Meanwhile, Wesley read Gabriela's rare burst of rebellion and, for the first time all morning, his mood brightened.

A hint of a smile touched his lips as he calmly opened the breakfast container and ate with effortless grace.

Billy stood by the door, anxiety fluttering in his chest as he waited for Wesley to sign off on the stack of documents. But when he caught a rare glimpse of Wesley in good spirits, a wave of relief washed over him.

At the same time, curiosity gnawed at Billy.

Wesley,usually so unreadable and reserved, seemed oddly light today-almost approachable.

Trying to be subtle, Billy craned his neck,angling for a peek at the phone in Wesley's hand.

He couldn't see who was on the other end, but the flash of a venting message caught his eye and left him reeling.

His eyes widened, pupils narrowing in surprise.

Before Billy could puzzle it out, Wesley's voice broke through his thoughts. "Go make some coffee."

Billy straightened immediately. "Understood," he said,then slipped out to the break room.

No sooner had he started the coffee machine than Jerome Cruz, one of the secretaries, appeared in the doorway. He looked anxious not to miss a chance to butter up. Rushing over, he offered, "Let me handle the coffee.Please."

Jerome,always meticulously dressed,had clawed his way onto the CEO's secretarial staff and treated the role like it was the pinnacle of his career. He took immense pride in every detail, refusing to let Billy handle even the most trivial tasks-like making coffee -if he could do them himself.

Billy shot Jerome a strange look, and suddenly blurted out,"Jerk." Jerome's lips twitched in quiet frustration as he muttered, "Billy, did I do something wrong? Why did you start insulting me?"

With a lazy half-smile, Billy clapped Jerome on the shoulder. "Relax. I don't mean it."

Most people would've bristled at being called a jerk.But instead, Wesley-of all people-seemed oddly cheerful, as if the insult had brightened his day.

Did he actually like being ridiculed? Was there something weirdly gratifying about it for him?

Upon returning to the office, Billy stared at Wesley in disbelief,handing over the coffee.

Later that afternoon, Wesley presided over a high-stakes meeting that dragged on for well over an hour,with no resolution in sight.

Yet, for once, the air in the boardroom was lighter-Wesley's mood was unmistakably upbeat, his usual harsh critiques replaced with surprising patience.

After the meeting wrapped up, one of the executives sidled over to Billy, lowering his voice with practiced nonchalance. "Mr. Moss is in a surprisingly good mood today.Did the Athea project finally go through?"

Billy just shot him a mysterious smile. "Why don't you take a guess?"

The executive, curious, pressed on. "So it's not that?Is there some other good news? Enough with the theatrics-spit it out."

Billy only shook his head, lips curving in the faintest hint of amusement. "That's classified."

Well, the real reason behind Wesley's sudden cheer -the fact that he'd actually enjoyed being insulted-wasn't something Billy would ever share.

The executive walked away, defeated. His quest for office gossip thoroughly thwarted.

While Gabriela stewed over her earlier outburst, she braced herself for Brenden's sharp reply.

Instead, the reply arrived lazily around four o'clock."Make pasta and borscht for dinner."

She stared at the message in disbelief

Pasta? Borscht? Was this somekind of joke?

She responded bluntly, "I don't know how to cook."

The reply came almost instantly, as if the other person had been expecting her to protest. "Leave the office early and bring dinner to the company by seven. I'll give back what you left in Room 1205." Gabriela racked her brain, trying to remember what on earth she might've forgotten in Room 1205. Was Brenden just making it up to mess with her?

She fired off a curt reply, "No way!" then began stuffing her things into her bag, determined to make her exit.

Inside the CEO's office, Wesley stared at the text, lips quirking with genuine amusement. "She's got some temper," he mnurmured.

Just then, Billy walked in just as Wesley's lips curved in a rare, genuine smile at his phone.

For a second, he stood frozen in the doorway,wondering if his boss had just been insulted again.

Wesley's strange delight in insults cracked his normally aloof image.

The whole idea left Billy quietly rattled.