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.

"Cin," Gabriel's voice called-low, calm, composed, like he hadn't shattereda 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 draggedhere 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 draggedup here?" He sighed, completely unfazed by my words. "Adrian toldabout 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.

"No, I'm fine standing," I replied curtly. "Like I said before." He tilted his head slightly, the familiar commanding look settling on his face-the one that always made people cave without even realizing it.

"Sit. Now." I rolled my eyes, knowing I wasn't going to win this. Sbattles weren't worth the energy. With a resigned sigh, I picked my battle and lowered myself into the chair in front of his desk.

He moved a little closer, but I didn't flinch. I wasn't here to play his games.

He slid a black file across the desk toward me. "I have a proposition for you." I eyed it suspiciously before glancing up at him. "What is this?" "Open it," he replied. "It's a new proposal I've drafted-something I believe could benefit us both." I hesitated for a split second before flipping it open.

Inside was a contract-something formal, carefully worded. My eyes skimmed the lines until a familiar phrase caught my attention.

HartI blinked.

"What is this?" I asked again, more cautiously this time.

He watchedclosely, givingspace to catch up. When I looked at him, confused, he finally spoke.

"It's a proposal to fund your app," he explained.

Wait-what? "You've found a new investor?" I asked, my voice coming out a little more hopeful than I wanted it to. A part ofwaited, expecting him to confirm it, so I could leap for joy. I could finally get the funding I needed.

But he shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "On the contrary. I would be the sole investor." I arched my brow. "What?" "You know I've spent months trying to find an investor to back your project through the Next Generation Program... but after what happened with Mario, everything had to be put on hold. So I'm offering something else. I'll fund it myself-full investment. And we split the profit. Seventy-thirty. You get the seventy." My jaw nearly dropped. I stared at him, trying to make sense of it. It was a good deal-an incredible one-but there had to be a catcThere always was. Gabriel never gave without expecting something in return. And I wasn't naive enough to believe this was just about helping me.

Which only meant one thing.

There was a catch.

I lifted my gaze to his. "What do you want in return?" Gabriel smirked. "I want you to keep my son's head on straight in the company. Just like we discussed yesterday." Of course. There it was.

Adrian.

The one who always cfirst.

The heir Gabriel was so desperate to shape in his image.

And not once did he stop to consider how any of this affectedmy life, my feelings, the wreckage I was barely holding together.

He didn't care that I was drowning emotionally. He just needed someone to keep his golden boy in line with the family name.

Every shred of anger I'd felt earlier cback-tripled.

He went on, like he was reciting lines he'd already practiced in his head. "You've apologized. I've accepted it. I'm not going to force you into anything. But I know how much thatmeans to you. And Adrian means everything to me. This is a compromise." "So that's what this is really about?" I fired back, lacing my words with sarcasm. "You get your son in line, and I get to play the convenient tool who throws herself under the bus. Sounds like a perfect trade." "Clairessa," he said evenly, "this is a mutually beneficial offer. I'm asking you to set aside your emotions and look at the opportunity I'm giving you." I barely stopped myself from sneering. "Opportunity? Please. 'Gabriel the generous.' Let's not pretend this is about helping me. This is about you-your control, your son, your legacy." He straightened slightly, frustration slipping through. "That's not what this is. I'm offering to put 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 do this. For anyone. But I'm doing it for you." A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "So what? I should kneel at your feet and be grateful that you're taking a risk on me? Huh?"

"Kneeling might be a bit much," Gabriel drawled. "But a thank you would be appropriate. Leould've easily made this a fifty-fifty deal, and it still would've been more than fair considering I'm fronting everything." I stared at him-long and hard.

Then I snapped the folder shut and shoved it back across the desk.

"Well, Mr. Storm, you can take your deal and shove it where the sun doesn't shine." I turned to leave, but his hand closed around my wrist, pullingback.

"Clairessa, wait-" My pulse jumped at the contact. His grip wasn't forceful, but there was something desperate in it.

I glanced back-and he was standing now, towering over me, no longer the composed man behind the desk.

And there it was again—that glint of tenderness in his eyes. The kind I hadn't seen in weeks.

But I wasn't letting myself get fooled by it.

I jerked my hand away from his grasp. "What?" I asked, frustrated.

"I don't want us to fight," he said softly. "Not when we could work together-to get what we both want."

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head at his audacity. "I'd rather take my chances with the wolves than align myself with a man as selfish, cold, and conceited as you." His eyes flashed with anger, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Clairessa... that's enough."

He stepped closer, his voice turning steely. "I've been patient, but I'mm offering you something incredible, and you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment." I wrenched my wrist from his grasp, but his hold was tight, making it impossible to break free. "Mr. Storm, take your hands off me. Now." He hesitated, and I saw the frustration cross his face before his grip on my wrist finally loosened, and he slowly backed away.

I shot him a look of disgust, turning toward the door.

But then, his voice stoppedin my tracks-deep, dark, and final.

"If you walk out that door, the contract is off the table. And good luck finding an investor who would offer you a deal like the one I just did." The words hung between us like a challenge, and for a brief moment, I stopped dead in my tracks. Just for a second.