Poisonous Kiss: Chapter 11

I expected the day my “relationship” with Gabriel went public to be a shit show.

But come on.

The “grand announcement” on the staircase in view of the entire firm was insane enough. Takato’s men bursting into Gabriel’s office seriously threw me off.

Because that’s exactly who they were.

The shorter guy, Shiro…if that even is his real name…was one of the men in my apartment the other day, when I came home to find my father on the floor.

Them being here today is seriously freaking me out. For a start, it was creepy how they knew exactly when and where I’d be receiving the money. And what the hell did Takato think I was going to do? Get the payment from Gabriel and run?

But after they had me transfer the money from my Caymans account to Takato’s uncle’s, and after they left, my day only got weirder.

Cassidy is completely ignoring me. Not looking at me. Not acknowledging me when I walk into a room. Certainly not talking to me.

That fucking hurts.

She’s one of my best friends at work, and I just know from the look on her face that she’s seeing the news of Gabriel and I exactly as I was worried people would: that I’m screwing my boss for advancement. That I made equity partner by sucking Gabriel’s dick or something.

I mean…I did. But that came after the equity partnership. And again, he didn’t, and presumably still doesn’t, know that was me.

Fortunately, my other close friends at the firm immediately seek me out to make sure I’m okay. One million signed NDAs aside, I end up pulling Elsa and Eloise into a conference room and making them swear on the lives of their not-yet-even-conceived children not to say a word before I tell them what’s up. I even pay them both a dollar, making them legally my attorneys, and the information I unload onto them totally confidential.

“I mean…” Eloise shrugs. “Gabriel can be a little gruff sometimes. And he’s a bit of a control freak⁠—”

“Seriously! God help you if his pen is moved half an inch on his desk,” Elsa snickers. “But he’s a good man, Fumi.” She frowns. “You and he aren’t…you know…actually⁠—”

“No!” I blurt, my face turning scarlet. “No! That is not included.”

Elsa giggles. “I didn’t imagine it would be. I mean, Gabriel doesn’t even date.”

“Facts,” Eloise adds. “Alistair offers to set him up with women all the time. He never bites.” She grins. “Honestly, and I’m not saying this to be a bitch or anything, but Alistair and I have both wondered if he’s asexual or something.”

NOPE.

Or if he is, someone give that man a Tony award for his performance the other night.

Later in the afternoon, after tiring of the whispers and looks from the rest of the office, I’m holed up in the legal library getting some work done. That’s where Taylor finds me, gives me a big hug, and tells me she knows about all of it.

“Ultimately, I think it’s a smart move on your part,” she offers.

“Making myself an office pariah for money?”

“A lot of money,” she counters. “But it’s not just the money, Fumi. Anyone with a brain will see what this is—and I don’t mean that as a threat. What I mean is, other equity partners, the board, even managing partners of other firms will see this and see golden allegiance to Crown and Black. That’s loyalty you can’t buy.”

“He literally just bought it.”

She laughs. “Okay, I walked into that one. But you know what I mean. This makes you look like a badass, not a gold digger. At least, to those who matter.” She shrugs. “Look, cards on the table: I plan on doing whatever it takes to keep you at Crown and Black for your entire career, because you’re that good and because I’d be an idiot to let anyone else scoop you up. This could and probably will bite me in the ass…” She grins again. “But when you’re due for your next raise in a few years, and seven other firms in New York are dumping gold at your feet to jump ship because of the loyalty you’re showing right now, that’s ammo you can use here to negotiate for more money.”

I smirk. “Why, pray tell, would you tell me that, as a name partner?”

“Because I like you, Fumi. Both as your friend and as your boss. I want the best for you.” She exhales. “Look, Gabriel’s…well, Gabriel. But he’s a good man. And he’s completely aware of what this is, for both of you. This really will be strictly for the cameras, Fumi.” She gives me a sideways glance. “My opinion?”

“Please.”

“Throw in a relationship clause.”

“A what?”

“This contract lumps you two together for a minimum of close to four years. You’ve the campaign itself. Then if he wins, which seems likely given…” She lifts a shoulder. “Well, Governor Hall is going down.”

I shiver.

“So then you’ve got three years in the Governor’s mansion together—a man you won’t really have a relationship with. And…” She grins salaciously at me, and I suddenly get what she means by “relationship clause”.

“That’s a thing?”

“Legally binding fake marriage contracts with stipulations that both parties can seek romantic and sexual attention from others, provided they’re discreet? Uh, yeah. I’ve written in clauses like that half a dozen times for situations exactly like this. Otherwise, what’s the alternative?” She wrinkles her nose. “You just don’t get laid for four years? Fuck that.”

My face burns as every single lurid detail of the other night at Venom comes rushing back.

“So definitely a relationship clause. It’s not like you’re going to be screwing Gabriel,” she snorts.

No.

Of course not.

That would be ridiculous.

It’s not quite the end of the day, and I’ve got a mountain of shit to do, but Taylor tells me to take the rest of the day off anyway.

I don’t. I’ve already got the entire office starting at me like a leper. The last thing I need is to walk out early.

When I finally do leave work, I startle when a built blond man all in black steps away from a town car parked right outside the front of the Crown and Black building.

“Ms. Yamaguchi?”

I freeze. “Yes?”

He smiles warmly. “I’m Trevor, Mr. Black’s regular driver. He sent me to take you home.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. My new “fiancé” certainly has pretentious tastes. Expensive watches. Twelve-thousand-dollar suits. Sports cars. Of course he has a town car with a driver.

Still, a ride home in a town car is a ride home in a town car. And this is going to be my new reality soon.

Might as well get used to it.

Trevor shows me his ID along with a Crown and Black “peripheral employee” card before opening the car door for me.

“Right this way, Ms. Yamagu⁠—”

“Fumi,” I smile. “Just Fumi is fine. If you want to do last names, I’ll insist on using yours.”

He chuckles. “My last name is Polish and makes even my tongue cramp. Let’s stick with first names.”

“Perfect,” I laugh, slipping into the back seat.

Oh my…this is living. Sumptuous, buttery leather seats. Smooth jazz coming from hidden speakers. A minibar, complete with fresh ice, crystal tumblers, and a cocktail shaker.

A girl could get used to this.

I’m making small talk with Trevor, so I don’t notice where we are until the car glides to a stop.

“Well, we’re here.”

I frown, turning to peer out the tinted windows as Trevor gets out of the driver’s seat. I’m still frowning as he opens my door for me.

“Uh, Trevor, where are we?”

He turns and nods up at the beautiful brownstone on a gorgeous, tree-lined street.

“We’re home, Miss.”

Trevor escorts me up the steps and opens the front door for me, then leaves me there, letting me enter on my own. The second I do so, my jaw drops and my eyes bulge wide.

What the actual fuck.

The front foyer of Gabriel’s admittedly stunning home is crammed with brown moving boxes: boxes with my name written on them. I yank the tape off one, ripping it open before my lips purse.

It’s filled with books from my bedroom back home. Which I had no intention of leaving. The next box has work stuff. A third is filled with old t-shirts I usually work out or sleep in.

“It’s all there, I promise.”

I whirl at the sound of Gabriel’s voice. “What the fuck is this?”

“Your things.”

I glare at him. “You know what I mean. What is it doing⁠—”

“You live here now, Fumi.”

“I—” I blink rapidly. “What?”

“You’re my fiancée,” he shrugs, his face expressionless. “It would look odd if we didn’t live together at this stage of our relationship.”

My head shakes slowly. “You went through my stuff⁠—”

“Technically, I paid people to go through your stuff. They’re very discreet, I assure you.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, call your discreet minions back, because I’m not living here.”

Gabriel looks amused. “It’s not up for negotiation.”

“My father⁠—”

“Has also been moved, into a very comfortable new apartment five blocks west of here.”

I huff. “That’s not going to work. I’m his primary caregiver. He…” I grit my teeth.

“Has cancer. Yes, I’m aware. Stage two lung.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“He told me.”

I gape. My dad is a pretty private person. And he met Gabriel once, for like four minutes.

“Bullshit. There’s no way. What did you do, get a PI to⁠—”

“He told me, Fumi.” Gabriel frowns, tipping his head slightly. “Well, I guessed, and he confirmed it.”

“I don’t care,” I snap. “I’m still his primary caregiver⁠—”

“Of course you are. But you’re no longer his only caregiver. I’ve hired a full-time nurse.”

My teeth grind. “What, she’ll also be living in the charity apartment you’ve moved him into?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “No. He’ll be living in the one I rented right below your father’s. Oh, and I should mention that he’ll be seeing a new doctor.”

I glare at him. “What?”

“His last one was…adequate,” he shrugs. “But Doctor Jalisco is the best lung cancer specialist in the country.”

“I know,” I mutter. “He’s also not in my health insurance network and would cost more than any bank would ever loan me.”

“Well,” Gabriel shrugs casually. “He’s in my network. Which is now also yours, and your father’s. I’m not a monster, Fumi.”

That’s up for debate…

“But this arrangement does have to happen. If this is what it takes to make things less…prickly for everyone involved, then so be it. Now, would you like to see your room?”

He starts to turn for the stairs.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” I say quietly, stopping him. I take a slow breath and lift my eyes to his. “You didn’t…”

“Have to do any of it?” He considers. “I did, actually, after your performance at that audition.”

My mouth twists. “I’m sorry⁠—”

“Don’t. One, I know you’re not. Two, it undermines your attack and weakens your defenses.”

“Oh, we’re going to war?” I quip sarcastically.

“We’re getting married, Fumi.” He smiles grimly. “Of course we are.”

Gabriel’s townhouse is stunning. I’ve never been, but Elsa and Eloise have told me all about it. It’s actually the place he, Alistair, and Tempest grew up.

Their words didn’t do it justice.

It’s obviously been heavily renovated and decorated since then—probably when he became one of the most sought-after and highest-paid lawyers in the entire city.

The room I’ll be staying in is on the third floor, overlooking a lush garden in a walled backyard.

It. Is. Gorgeous.

The room is decorated in creamy white and muted sage, giving it a vintage and yet modern look. A huge, four-poster bed complete with gauzy white curtains faces the windows, and there’s a private ensuite bathroom.

After lugging up some of the boxes and suitcases, and unpacking, I end up trying out that ensuite.

Holy. Heaven.

The clawfoot tub with the built-in jets I’m saving for another day. But the massive walk-in shower with the multiple steam and massage settings is everything. I take my time, letting the hot water and steam massage every single pore.

Then I dry off, drape the towel over the bar on the wall, and step back into the bedroom to change into some clean clothes.

I end up screaming and jumping out of my fucking skin when I find Gabriel sitting in a chair by the window, staring calmly at me.

“What the fuck!” I yell, bolting to the bed and yanking off the duvet. I wrap it tightly around myself before I whirl on him. “Can you please stop fucking doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Barging in on me changing?”

“The door has a perfectly good lock. Perhaps it’s a thrill for you.”

My face burns. “Or perhaps start assuming closed ones aren’t meant to be opened.”

“It’s my house.” He’s taken off his jacket and tie and undone a button or two of his shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. My pulse skips as my eyes drag over the bit of firm, muscled chest I can see, and the bulge of his shoulders. The way his veined, muscled forearm ripples as his fingers tap on the armrest.

I frown. “What did you want?”

He turns and lifts a massive legal document from the side table next to him. “We forgot a couple of clauses in our contract.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll take a look.”

“Thank you. There are some paragraphs concerning code of conduct in there, too.”

“Code of conduct?”

“Your extracurricular activities.”

My cheeks burn. “Once again, my sex life is none of your goddamn business. But I’ll take a look at it.”

Gabriel nods as he stands. “My housekeeper, Shawna, is off today. But help yourself to the kitchen downstairs for dinner. Or feel free to order whatever you want for delivery. Don’t stay up late⁠—”

I arch a brow. “Are you going to be my husband or my babysitter?”

He rolls his eyes. “You didn’t let me finish. I was about to say we have a big day tomorrow.”

I groan. “I know. I’ve got the Templeman deposition at two⁠—”

“Not anymore.”

I scowl. “What? I’ve been working on that for months.”

“Cassidy Hawthorn will be taking over. You have other plans.”

I stare in disbelief. “Plans like…?”

Gabriel’s jaw sets. “The media’s gotten wind of my intention to run against Governor Hall. Speculation is running rampant, so we need to announce it tomorrow, not next week as planned.”

My eyes go wide. “T-tomorrow?”

Holy shit. Delivery dinner? I think I need a delivery pitcher of margaritas.

Gabriel heads to the door and opens it as I thumb through the addendum contract he’s left on the table. Instantly, I stop cold at “Section III: Physical Expectations”. Each bullet point beneath it makes my blood burn a little hotter. They list how my hair should be styled, what sort of makeup I should wear in public, my style in clothes, my diet, and the workout schedule I’ll apparently be following with my new personal trainer.

What the fuck is this shit?

“Okay, wait,” I mutter. “Physical expectations…”

Gabriel pauses in the doorway and glances back at me. “Was that an offer?”

My face burns hotly.

“No!” I blurt. “I meant the clauses in…” I scowl. “But actually, on that note…”

Gabriel turns to face me straight on, looking somewhere between amused and annoyed as he folds his arms over his chiseled chest.

“Yes?”

“Just…the money you’ve paid me…”

A blush creeps up my face and down my neck as I picture him in that private room at Venom.

Standing over me.

Gripping my throat.

Pushing his cock between my lips.

“I mean, five million is a lot of money.”

“I’m very aware,” he growls. “That’s why it was four, originally.”

“What expectations come attached to that four million?”

His eyes slide over me, making me tremble a little.

“The expectation that you will play your role and do as you’re told.”

“You’re not answering my question. Does that include⁠—”

“I’ll buy you a vibrator if you’re so hard up, Fumi.”

My jaw drops, blushing furiously as I stare at him. “That is not what I⁠—”

He storms back over to me, stopping just short of where I’m standing and looking down into my eyes, and I shiver.

Gabriel’s tall. But usually, when I’m face to face with him, I’m in heels.

Right now, obviously, I’m not. And now, when he stands over me, he seriously stands over my small frame.

“Here’s the thing, Fumi,” he growls quietly. “Whatever ideas Taylor slipped into your head, there will not be any ‘relationship clause’ in our agreement.”

I swallow.

“You will not be fucking someone else while you’re married to me.” He growls it with a viciousness in his tone that sends a shiver up my spine and a stab of heat through my core. “Believe me, you don’t want anything to do with me in that regard, either.”

I glare at him indignantly. “I was not propositioning you, you arrogant⁠—”

“I think that’s enough, kitten.”

It’s like he’s just punched all the air out of my lungs. I can feel the color draining from my face, my legs wavering. Gabriel seems totally unaware of the effect the word’s had on me as he turns and walks to the door.

“What…” I swallow. “What did you just call me?”

He sighs at the doorway, pausing to turn and glance back at me. “What, kitten?” He shrugs, shooting me a withering look. “Don’t flatter yourself. I call lots of women kitten.”

Wow, thanks, ass.

Gabriel draws in a deep breath.

“Here’s the thing, Fumi,” he growls. “This nonsense between us is business, and nothing more. Believe me, you don’t want anything to do with me in that regard. And I do not want to fuck you. ”