Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel)

Gabriel's POV

Adrian looked like hell.

His shirt was half-untucked, his tie loose and crooked. His hair stuck up in odd directions, like he'd styled it with his hands in a moving car.

His steps were rushed, scattered-like someone who already knew he'd lost and was scrambling to salvage whatever pieces were left.

He was panting like he'd sprinted across the building-yet still had the nerve to flash a sheepish, almost casual smile. Like we weren't standing on the edge of something monumental.

"Sorry,” he said breathlessly, tugging at his tie like it might straighten out his failure. "I-uh-had a little accident. But I'm here now."

I dropped my head, fist clenched beneath it, all the passion I'd felt earlier turning into a slow, simmering rage.

Disappointment burned through me. Of course he was going to fuck it up.

He hadn't changed-not really. Still the same entitled, distracted boy who thought charm could fix everything. Still unprepared. Still chasing excuses and calling them setbacks, like the world would wait for him to catch up.

I looked to Randolph, bracing myself to see if that trainwreck of an entrance had sunk us. But he'd already turned away from Adrian-his focus was on Clairessa

now.

Everyone's was.

So was mine.

Adrian slid in beside her like nothing had happened-like he deserved to be near her. But even she didn't play along.

She barely spared him a glance, just shot him a furious glare and gave the smallest shake of her head. His shoulders wilted. He nodded once-quiet, apologetic. Like a scolded child.

And Clairessa? She turned right back to the screen.

"As I was saying-"

Flawless. Unbothered. Commanding.

She didn't stumble. Didn't miss a beat.

I didn't know how she did it.noveldrama

She owned the room.

Christ, she was brilliant.

Near the end, I caught her leaning slightly toward Adrian. Subtle-just enough

that only someone paying too much attention would notice.

She whispered something under her breath, guiding him.

Coaching him like a broken wind-up toy she still wanted to see run, still hoping he'd pull it together.

Then she turned back to the board and said, "I'll let Adrian close."

He stepped forward, hands fidgeting at his shirt cuffs, cleared his throat twice- eyes darting, voice trembling.

He looked like a child wearing his father's confidence. But then-somehow-he found it. Not all of it. But enough.

The closing wasn't perfect, but it wasn't a disaster either. Passable. Clean. Enough to avoid catastrophe.

And when he finished-

Applause.

Loud. Sincere. The kind that made people believe in second chances.

But I barely registered it.

I saw only her.

Clairessa stood calm, proud. Chin lifted, fingers clasped neatly in front of her like she hadn't just carried the entire pitch on her shoulders. Like she hadn't just saved him again.

I smirked. A private one. Just for her.

She didn't see it.

She hadn't looked at me once.

Not even once.

And I hated how much that stung.

Randolph clapped slowly, then broke into a wide grin across the table. "Gabriel...

I've got no words. I'm impressed. That was a good one."

"Absolutely," I replied instantly. "Ms. Hartwood is one of our most skilled project coordinators."

Finally-finally-she looked at me. Just for a second.

The faintest smile touched her lips.

Soft. Controlled.

But my pulse kicked like a hammer in my chest.

God help me.

This was dangerous.

I was too old for this. Too carved up inside. Too damn smart to chase something

I'd never be allowed to keep.

The team nodded. Clairessa gave a quiet smile. Adrian exhaled relief. Nicole— thankfully-kept her pride in check.

They walked out together.

The door shut behind them.

Only Randolph remained.

He leaned back in his seat and gave a low whistle. "Gabriel," he said, shaking his

head, "I wasn't thrilled about the delay earlier."

I gave him a knowing look. "Neither was I."

"But..." He chuckled, eyes gleaming.

"That pitch? That was damn near flawless. Best I've seen all quarter. Hell, maybe

all year."

I allowed a tight smile. "Told you. We don't settle for less. I've got some of the best minds in the industry under my roof."

Randolph's eyes sparkled with approval.

"Clairessa... she's a star. The way she handled those objections? Calm under pressure. Quick on her feet. Smart as hell."

"She's exceptional," I said, letting the pride coat every syllable.

Randolph nodded once. "You better hold onto her. Because if you don't, someone else will."

I didn't miss the warning buried in the compliment. "That's never going to happen." Randolph lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you say, Gabe."

Then came the sigh. The pause.

"Your son though-Adrian, is it?"

I clenched my jaw.

A soft laugh escaped him. "Well, he made it. Just barely. But he recovered. That's something."

I exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm trying to get him in line. He's still... figuring it out. I just hope he figures it out before he ruins something that can't be fixed."

Randolph let out a knowing laugh, leaning in a little.

"I hear you. My son's just the same. Always distracted, always fighting me. Getting

him to care about the business is like a battle."

Then his tone softened.

"But we do this for them, don't we? All of it. The grind. The long hours. The sleepless nights. We don't build this empire just for ourselves, Gabriel. It's legacy.

For them. Whether they see it now or not."

I extended my hand. "You're absolutely right."

He shook it firmly. "You've got the deal. Send over the revised terms. My legal

team will take care of the rest."

Relief surged through me. "You won't regret it."

We parted, the door closing behind him.

After the meeting, the deal was closed.

I thanked God for that-because despite Adrian's no-show, and how close he

came to wrecking everything, Clairessa had stepped in and saved the day. Somehow, it all worked out.

But Randolph's words kept echoing in my mind.

"You better hold onto her. Because if you don't, someone else will."

The warning sat heavy in my chest.

I couldn't stand it.

Couldn't bear the thought.

Another man—taking her. Taking what was mine.

I was still lost in that thought when the office door slid open.

Adrian walked in, shoulders hunched, jaw clenched. His eyes darted toward me— nervous, calculating—like he already knew I was seconds away from unleashing

hell.

This time, he wasn't alone.

Clairessa followed behind him,

hesitant, her gaze fixed on the floor. She still wouldn't look at me-as if avoiding my eyes might somehow make her invisible, like she didn't want to be caught in the middle of this but knew she had no choice.

And that only made me angrier.

"Dad—I... I'm sorry," Adrian stammered, both hands raised as if I might strike him.

"I can explain—”

"No," I cut in, voice like a whip. "Shut the hell up.”

He froze, mid-breath, lips parted in panic.

"I'm not interested in your sleazy apologies or whatever excuse you think might

soften this blow," I said through clenched teeth. "You had one job. One. Show up

on time. And you couldn't even manage that."

"Dad, listen-there was a lot happening-emotionally, I was—"

"What the hell does that even mean?" I snapped. "You think this is a therapy

session? Do I look like I give a damn about your emotional state when there's a multi-million-dollar deal on the line?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, the way it always did when he had no answer. When there was no spine left to show.

"This isn't about your feelings, Adrian. This is about discipline. This is about responsibility. This is about the name you carry-and today, you dragged it through the mud because what? You overslept? You needed time to cry?"

His Adam's apple bobbed. "Dad... I swear there's more to the story, and you need

to understand, it wasn't my intention—"

"I don't give a damn about your

intentions." I stepped toward him, voice rising with every word. "This

isn't some group project. This is my life's work. This is twenty-five years of building something from nothing. I showed up. Sick. Tired. Alone. And

you-" I swept my arm around the room, "-you think you can just roll in late and fix it with a sorry?"

He mumbled, "Dad, please, you need to relax, alright—”

"Don't fucking tell me to relax," I growled, voice scraping out from somewhere

deep and savage. "Do you have any idea the kind of blood and sweat it took to

build this?"

I flung my arm wide, gesturing to the boardroom, the name, the tower of steel and glass we stood in. "Showing up every single day—whether I'd slept or not. Whether I wanted to or not. That's what this life costs."

He looked like he wanted to melt through the floor, and honestly, I couldn't stand

to look at him anymore.

"You know what? I'm not dealing with this now. Get out."