I hold her close to my chest as I take firm steps towards my bck McLaren P1. She shivers as the wind brushes against her wet clothes clinging to her dainty self. Fuck. She feels like heaven yet so full of sin.

  I'm Gabriel Bckwell and This is MY story.

  The driver steps out of my office car, which is just a bck Audi A8, hurriedly as he opens the car door for me. As I step out of the vehicle, my hand brushes against the front of my coat smoothing the fabric with a flick of my wrists.

  My expression remains neutral, calm and composed before I gnce at my driver and give him a quick nod.

  My steps towards the entrance of my building is filled with purpose and burning determination. Someone had gotten on my nerves and I don't py games.

  My presence fills the conference room. The design is very modern with gss walls and at the centre of the room a rge stretched out oval shaped table with chairs on either sides of it.

  My gaze sets on him. Alen Ruther.

  "Finally decided to show up?" His voice smooth as he leaned back to his seat, eyes still set on the files infront of him.

  "Can't see?" My voice sharp as I try holding back my irritation. This is the usual when I was around him.

  He smirks slightly knowing the effect he had on me, almost amused. "Are you always this rude to your potential business partners?"

  "No. You're just special like that. It takes a idiot to draw a reaction out of me." I clear my throat regaining my composure as I settle beside my assistant's seat, Is Mendes, which was opposite to the seat he sat on behind the table with his own assistant.

  "Well if you're done being unprofessional, I suppose we could start with the meeting." He nodded smirking slightly wider "Good." My tone hiding the underlying annoyance.

  Alen Ruther is the most annoying yet calcutive man I've ever met my whole life. He thinks we're best friends but I don't like animals. He's a flirt, the other day after our meeting had ended, on his way to his car before entering inside he winked at Is.

  It bothers me only because she was my assistant and I didn't want him to use the information she could potentially give him to plot behind my back. Not that it matters anymore 'cause I saw them walk out separately from the unused cabin adjusting their attire one day.

  He owns a company that designed and helped manufacture Jewellery from the stones, G Stone, we provided along with the designs. Initially it was just a business partnership but slowly he started inviting me to his friend's Club and eventually I got used to having him around.

  "And you know I'm the best at it" he winks cockily adding to something he just said. Okay. I lied. I don't think I'll ever get used to this irritating fucker.

  The meeting ends as we all stand pushing the chair as a light screech sound erupts in the room. I notice him gnce at Is before looking at his own assistant, it was for half a second but my eyes never miss a detail.

  Now I'm sat on the leather seat of my private cabinet. My seat turned towards the whiteboard that had writing and calcutions of the monthly Accounts. I squinted, raised one of my eyebrows in suspicion.

  My hand went behind my seat to my desk and clicks on the small red button on my table made to call my assistant. I cross my arms now leaning to my seat, eyes locked on the whiteboard.

  The door opened and then shut gently as I heard her heels click on the tile floor.

  "Get a meeting fixed at sharp 9 in the morning tomorrow with all the Upper Cabinet" my voice revealing emotions only Is understood being my assistant.

  "Yes, Sir" her hands csped infront of her as she kept a neutral face. "Your Father has called for you to-"

  "I suppose we're done here" my British accent slipping as always when I'm serious. As I turn my seat facing the desk now as I type in my ptop, not bothering her a gnce.

  She nodded knowingly. This is something she's used to everytime she brings up anything of my Father.

  My Father grew in a small town back in Ashwick Vale in northern Engnd. An orphan boy who could barely manage a single meal a day, grew up to stand strong on his own two feet with one of America's Top Empire, G Stone.

  My Father was a good man. Driven by ambition to do anything but let me and my mother see a single day of poverty or Compromising. He loves my mother. He'd do anything for her. But.

  Mother passed away while giving birth to me in one of the top hospitals present during their stay in Sweden. Ever since that day, my father looks at me with despise. He used to say I look so much like her, yet he never treated me close to the stories he'd say of him showing her love.

  I remember when I was little, only 5 years of age. My Father would make me fall asleep with my head on his chest as his strong hands rubbed my back. When I turned 13, everything between me and him changed.

  He started to look at me as a burden, disappointment and spoilt. "You will never realise the value of the gold spoon I feed you with!" His voice echoing our penthouse as his jaw Shaked from the pent up anger.

  He would say things to me accusing me of stuff I couldn't have even thought of. I grew up in a boarding school because of our dynamic. Even now when I've taken over his Empire, he can't help but taunt, mock and insult me almost as though I wasn't his son- but his enemy.

  I hate my Father.