Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 184: If You Walk Out The Deal Is Off

Clairessa's POV

I reached Gabriel's office a few minutes later, my heart still rattled from the

elevator ride with Adrian. But the moment I stopped in front of the door, the nerves gave way to a slow, burning anger.

I paused just long enough to take a breath, then knocked lightly.

"Come in," Gabriel's voice called-low, calm, composed, like he hadn't shattered me a hundred times already.

I stepped inside, chin held high.

He sat behind his desk, casually flipping through papers like it was just another Monday morning and he hadn't dragged me here out of nowhere.

His eyes met mine.

For a heartbeat, something flickered there. Pity? Maybe. Regret? Possibly. Whatever it was, I didn't want it. I didn't need his sympathy. Not from him. Not now. Not ever.

His gaze didn't waver. "How are you doing?"

The question landed softer than I expected-his voice gentler than it had been in days. Careful. Almost too careful.

I crossed my arms. "What do you think?"

He leaned back in his chair, setting the papers aside. "You've been through a lot these past few days. The fire, losing your home..." He paused, his voice dipping lower. "I know it hasn't been easy."

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back what I really wanted to say.

"So now you care?" I fired at him, my voice low but loaded.

His jaw tensed, but his eyes didn't move from mine. "I never stopped."

I scoffed, loud enough for him to hear. "Mr. Storm, can we skip the pleasantries and get to the point of why you dragged me up here?"

He sighed, completely unfazed by my words. "Adrian told me about everything you lost. I can't imagine what that felt like. I'm truly sorry, Clairessa. If you need anything-"

"Mr. Storm," I cut in, straightening my spine, "I don't need your handouts. I can take care of myself."

His expression shifted slightly, but he said nothing, letting a long silence stretch between us.

I was here for my job. Not his pity. Not his guilt. And definitely not his broken apologies.

I wasn't here for his guilt. And certainly not for his broken apologies.

"So?" I leaned forward. "What do you want?"

Gabriel stood and stepped out from behind his desk, then sat on the edge of it, legs crossed casually like we were old friends catching up. The nerve.

"Please, sit," he motioned to the chair across from him.

I replied curtly. "Like

commanding look settling on his face-the one that always made

"Sit. Now."

With a resigned sigh, I picked my battle and lowered myself into the chair

but I didn't flinch. I wasn't here to play his

the desk toward me. "I

it suspiciously before glancing up at him.

a new proposal I've drafted-something I believe

a split

a contract-something formal, carefully worded. My eyes skimmed the lines until

Hart App

I blinked.

is this?" I asked again, more cautiously

watched me closely, giving me space to catch up. When I

fund your

Wait-what?

new investor?" I asked, my voice coming out a little more hopeful than I wanted it to. A part of me waited, expecting him to confirm

he shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “On the contrary. I would be the

arched my

to find an investor to back your project through the Next Generation Program... but after

we split the profit. Seventy-thirty. You get the

to make sense of it. It

had to

was. Gabriel

wasn't naive enough to believe

meant one

There was a catch.

gaze to his.

want you to keep my son's head on

There it

Adrian.

who always came

desperate to shape in

not once did he stop to consider how any of this affected me my life,

I was barely

was drowning emotionally. He just needed someone

of anger I'd felt

head. "You've apologized. I've accepted it. I'm not going to force

words with sarcasm. "You get your son in line, and I get to play the convenient tool who throws herself

beneficial offer. I'm asking you to set aside your emotions and look at the opportunity I'm giving

myself from sneering. "Opportunity? Please. 'Gabriel the generous.' Let's not pretend this is about helping

millions of my own money into something you built. No one else stepped up not even my company. And I'm giving you seventy percent of the profit. That's not normal. I don't

But I'm doing it

out before I could stop it. "So what? I