The standoff broke when Emmett turned away without a word. He walked with heavy, deliberate steps into the massive living room, heading straight for the custom crystal liquor cabinet.
He poured himself half a glass of single malt whiskey. The ice cubes clinked sharply against the glass, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
Emmett pulled open the drawer of his mahogany desk. He took out a thick checkbook embossed with the dark Cosmos Dynamics logo.
He pulled a Montblanc pen from his pocket. He aggressively signed his name at the bottom of a blank check, the nib scratching loudly against the paper. He walked back and slammed the check onto the glass coffee table.
"Quit your job at the hospital," Emmett ordered. His voice left no room for argument. "You are going to be Charlee's full-time private doctor."
Gabriella looked down at the piece of paper. It was a blank check. She knew she could write any number on that line, and she would never have to worry about money again for the rest of her life.
A cold, bitter laugh escaped her lips. She reached down and picked up the check. Emmett watched her, a hint of surprise flashing in his dark eyes.
Gabriella gripped the edges of the paper and ripped it straight down the middle. The tearing sound was loud and violent.
She tossed the torn pieces into the metal trash can next to the desk.
"I am helping my friend," Gabriella said, her voice hard as stone. "I am not selling myself to an arrogant billionaire."
She grabbed her trench coat from the back of the sofa. She didn't say goodbye to Eloise. She didn't look at Emmett. She marched straight to the elevator and pressed the button.
Emmett's fingers tightened around his whiskey glass. His knuckles turned bone white. His eyes burned with a furious, dark fire. The rejection hit him hard, fueling a terrifying need to conquer her.
The elevator doors slid shut. The moment she was alone, Gabriella's knees went weak. She leaned her back against the cold metal wall of the elevator, gasping for air. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt her ribs.
She walked out of the luxury building. The freezing winter air of Manhattan hit her face, clearing the fog from her brain.
She wrapped her coat tighter around her body and walked fast toward the subway. She had to report for her first day at the new medical center.
An hour later, Gabriella stood on the sidewalk outside the Mount Sinai Medical Center. She smoothed down the wrinkles on her professional skirt.
Just as she reached for the glass door, a flash of silver caught her eye. A stunning Porsche 911 was parked illegally by the curb.
A tall man wearing a perfectly tailored Savile Row suit was leaning against the driver's side door. He was looking down at his expensive watch.
The sun broke through the gray clouds, hitting his golden-brown hair. His side profile looked like a perfect Greek statue.
Gabriella's heart skipped a beat. Her feet froze to the pavement. She stared at the figure, unable to believe her eyes.
The man felt her gaze. He lifted his head. His eyes were a clear, warm ocean blue.
Jerrell Bishop smiled. It was his signature smile-gentle, perfect, and capable of melting all the snow in New York.
He pushed off the car. His long legs carried him through the busy crowd without hesitation. He walked straight toward her.
Gabriella's eyes filled with hot tears. Ten years of loneliness, exhaustion, and fighting her battles alone hit her all at once. Her throat tightened painfully.
Jerrell stopped right in front of her. He opened his arms. His movements were incredibly soft as he pulled her into his chest.
The familiar scent of cedar and amber cologne wrapped around her. Gabriella closed her eyes. Her tense muscles finally relaxed. She felt like a ship that had finally found its harbor.
Jerrell rested his chin on the top of her head. He let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"Welcome home, my girl," he whispered against her hair.
Across the street, parked in the shadows, sat a black, bulletproof SUV. Emmett sat in the back seat. He stared through the heavily tinted window, his eyes locked on the two people hugging on the sidewalk.
The temperature inside the SUV dropped to freezing. The driver in the front seat was sweating profusely, too terrified to even breathe loudly.
Emmett's face was completely blank. He pulled a thick cigar from his pocket. He didn't light it. He gripped it with both hands and snapped it violently in half. Tobacco spilled onto his expensive pants. He pulled out his phone, his voice cold and commanding as he spoke to the person on the other end. "The board meeting is in ten minutes. Tell them I'm on my way." He snapped the phone shut, his eyes still burning with the image of their embrace on the sidewalk.
"Drive," Emmett ordered, his voice sounding like grinding stones.
The black SUV pulled away from the curb like a ghost, disappearing into the chaotic city traffic.
Jerrell slowly released Gabriella. He naturally reached out and took her heavy tote bag from her shoulder. He smiled and pointed toward a high-end cafe across the street, asking if she had time to catch up.
