### Chapter 6 **GABRIELLA** “Are you asking me to move in here with you?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly as I survey the opulence surrounding me. This is easily the most luxurious place I have ever set foot in, and the idea of touching anything feels like a risk I’m not ready to take. The air in this penthouse is thick with the scent of wealth and elegance—two concepts that are as foreign to me as a distant planet. “Do you not like it?” Caleb questions, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes as he glances around the room. While the space is undeniably stunning, it's oddly devoid of warmth—a blank canvas awaiting the festive brushstrokes of holiday decorations. My mind buzzes with ideas on how to transform this frigid environment into something inviting, something that feels like home. “It’s just so... shiny and nice,” I reply, squeezing my suitcase tightly against my chest as Caleb casually sets down a couple of trash bags on a sleek, designer bench beside the elevator. I can’t help but chuckle at the stark contrast they create—so out of place, much like me in this lavish setting. “Relax, Gabriella, it’s just stuff and a house,” Caleb reassures me with that signature sweetness of his. He picks up a sleek iPad that looks like it controls the very essence of this high-tech sanctuary. Intrigued, I follow him deeper into the heart of his home, my senses overwhelmed by everything, especially the fresh, ‘just-built’ scent that lingers in the air. Everything is precision placed, as if it’s been staged just for the camera. Not a personal touch in sight. We step into what appears to be the living room. It’s a step-down area framed by a U-shaped arrangement of elegant couches. A grand stone wall looms at the center, anchored by an imposing fireplace. I can instantly envision it adorned with seasonal decorations and stockings; it wouldn’t take much to envelop this refined space with warmth. “Check this out,” he says, waving the iPad. With a few taps, the fireplace ignites, casting a gentle glow that dances around the room, while a sleek TV begins to glide down from the ceiling. I stare in awe at the surreal display of technology—a spectacle that feels straight out of a sci-fi movie. Another press of a button, and the floor-to-ceiling curtains peel back, unveiling a breathtaking panorama of the city sprawled out below, twinkling like a field of stars. “Wow,” I breathe, inching closer to the glass that separates us from the world below. The falling snowflakes twirl gracefully in the brisk air, and my heart races as I realize I feel as if I’ve been dropped into a snow globe—a beautiful, crystalline dream. In the distance, a bridge is wrapped in festive lights, adding to the enchantment. “There are two bedrooms on this floor and three upstairs,” Caleb gestures toward a stunning glass staircase. My mind explodes with ideas—garlands, twinkling lights… the possibilities feel endless. “I rarely use the second floor, but there’s a rooftop area you can access.” “I can’t believe this place,” I marvel. “It’s like stepping into the future, or a lavish television set.” “I want you to feel at home here,” Caleb says, appearing beside me. I can’t help but sneak a glance at him, only to find his gaze fixed intently on me rather than the mesmerizing view. “It’s just money,” he continues, “I have more than I could ever spend. So don’t worry about breaking anything.” He always knows exactly what to say. It’s unnervingly sweet; no one has ever been this considerate of me. It terrifies me a little. I can feel my heart starting to flutter uncomfortably. This might not be the best idea after all; I could easily fall for him and get my heart shattered. “What’s it like?” I ask timidly, hesitating. “To have all that money? Do you really have no worries at all?” The question hangs between us, heavy with curiosity and my own experience. Money is such a mysterious concept to me. There were times I had to budget my spending down to the last penny, missing out on things just to scrape by. “The only freedom it offers is choice,” Caleb states matter-of-factly. “You can still have your fair share of problems.” “Like heartbreak and loneliness?” The words slip out, and I swallow hard, knowing all too well about those particular emotional burdens. He gives a slow nod of understanding, and my heart aches just a little. “I suppose,” he admits. “I don’t want you thinking I’m just using you,” I say honestly, a worry that I can’t shake. I imagine it’s a common concern when dealing with someone of his stature. At my words, Caleb throws his head back and laughs—a sound that resonates deeply and brings warmth to the room. This laughter is unfamiliar in its depth, a sweet sound I want to remember. “I had to convince you to come here, but truthfully, I couldn’t care less about any of that, as long as you’re here with me.” His sincerity washes over me like a warm wave. “I really do want to be here,” I confess, my voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I was so sad thinking that I would never see you again.” “Never would have let that happen,” he replies, stepping closer, a magnetic force drawing us together. I’m suddenly reminded of his earlier words—about how we were crossing the professional line. My heart races, and as I shift to face him, I catch the intensity of his gaze drifting to my lips. Am I imagining things? Is he going to kiss me? A thrill runs through me, and against all logic, my heart answers a resounding yes. “Are you thinking about kissing me?” I blurt out, feeling like a complete dork for even voicing it. Shouldn’t these moments just happen? “I’m always thinking about kissing you, Gabriella,” he admits, taking another step toward me. “I can only imagine how soft and sweet your lips must be, just like the rest of you.” “Maybe,” I reply coyly, feeling a delicious shyness envelop me. “I want you to kiss me so badly, but—” Before I can finish my thought, he closes the distance between us, pressing his mouth to mine with urgency. His strong arms fold around me, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. My hands instinctively grab onto the front of his shirt, my entire being alight with the sensations flooding over me. When his tongue slides across my mouth, a gasp escapes me, and instinct takes over. I part my lips, inviting him deeper in. Lost in the moment, I forget everything but the intensity of his kiss—this glorious, thrilling exchange. “Gabriella,” he groans against my lips, and suddenly I’m weightless as he lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. My fingers glide up his chest and into his hair, grounding myself in this moment of bliss. His kiss leaves my lips tingling, yet he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against mine, eyes searching mine. “You taste incredible,” he mutters, an awestruck grin spreading across his face. “And you taste good too,” I admit, feeling my lips swell under the delicious scrutiny of his gaze. “Was that a French kiss?” “I did.” He grins, his hands slipping possessively to my backside, squeezing lightly, sending waves of electricity through me. “I’ve never had a French kiss before,” I confess, the admission slipping out before I could censor myself. “Fucking hell.” Caleb buries his face into my neck, breathing in my scent as if savoring a rare delight. “Is that a bad thing?” I ask, half-teasing. “No,” he assures me, his lips brushing my skin in the process. “You’re as pure as the snow outside.” A light laugh escapes me. “Never had the time or desire for kisses.” “Neither have I,” he admits, smiling softly. Does that mean he’s never had the urge to kiss, or just not with anyone like me? I can’t wrap my head around it. He’s so handsome and charming; I can’t fathom a world where women aren’t falling at his feet. Gently, he sets me back down on my feet, taking a step back as if the closeness suddenly made him reconsider. “Are we done kissing?” he asks, the space between us suddenly feeling much too large. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of kissing you, Gabriella,” he responds, the sincerity in his tone making my heart flutter once again. I find joy in how my name falls from his lips—my heart igniting at the way he pronounces it. “Then why the sudden distance?” I ask, tilting my head, gazing up at him in confusion. “Because you’re just settling in, and I don’t want to rush things,” he replies, his voice a gentle mixture of restraint and desire. “Oh.” I tuck a wayward curl behind my ear, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as shyness washes over me. “Hey.” Caleb suddenly steps back into my space, lifting my chin with a tender finger until our eyes meet. “Not that I don’t want to kiss you—trust me, I do—but you just walked through the door, and here I am ready to pull you into a passionate whirlwind.” “I don’t mind,” I admit with a smile, buoyed by his honesty and the effortless way he allays my doubts. “You’re not making this easy,” he chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “I want to help you settle, and I’m pretty sure you’re hungry.” “I could eat,” I agree, feeling the rumble in my stomach as if coaxed into action. “Then I need to feed you.” How on earth did this day transform from the worst to something resembling a fairy tale?