Tristan burst into laughter once more, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, man. You're something else, Gabe."
Gabriel's lips quirked in the slightest hint of a smile. "I've got enough on my plate as it is. If you're interested, feel free to indulge."
Tristan's grin faded as he observed Gabriel's troubled expression. It wasn't often that he saw his friend so preoccupied with something.
"Liz?" Tristan repeated, his curiosity piqued. He had heard Gabriel mention the name before, but he had never seen him react this way. "Is she the reason behind your mood?"
Gabriel hesitated, his gaze distant as if lost in thought. He debated whether to share his concerns with Tristan, but ultimately he trusted his friend's judgment.
"Yeah," he finally admitted with a sigh. "She's been on my mind. I can sense her, but she's resisting me—ignoring my call."
Tristan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The imprint?"
Gabriel nodded grimly. "Yeah, the imprint."
Tristan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "That's unusual. Imprints are usually pretty strong connections. What's going on?"
Gabriel shook his head, frustration evident in his features. "I have no idea."
Tristan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Gabriel's words. "Not like you to be thinking about a girl, bro. You're an Alpha, well, a Young Alpha. There's a line of girls waiting for you to sweep them off their feet!" Tristan reminded him.
Before Gabriel could offer any rebuttal, a knock echoed through the room, and Clara entered.
She was always dressed sensually in her form-fitting attire and a high-slit skirt. Clara was Gabriel's secretary, known for her alluring presence.
"Sir Gabriel," she purred, her voice carrying a husky undertone. Her lips curled into a honeyed smile. "There's a journalist who's eager to interview you. Are you willing—"
"Oh, I'm currently occupied," Gabriel quickly interjected, not particularly eager to engage in anything at the moment.
He glanced at Tristan and gave him a signal to handle the situation. "Just tell them I have an important meeting and ask them to reschedule."
"Understood," Tristan said, rising from his seat to gracefully escort the journalist out.
Tristan walked out of the room, leaving Gabriel and Clara alone. Clara immediately approached Gabriel, her gaze openly seductive as she looked him up and down, her eyes carrying a promise of hidden desires. She bit her lower lip teasingly, a playful invitation in her expression.
Taking a step closer, Clara's movements exuded confidence as she subtly lifted one slender leg adorned in a tight-fitting skirt with a high slit.
Her action brought her thigh temptingly close to Gabriel's side, a deliberate move that didn't go unnoticed.
Gabriel met Clara's bold display with an amused half-smile, his gaze locked onto hers. His posture remained relaxed, but his eyes held a glint of appreciation for her audacity.
With an audacious grin, Clara continued her advances. She raised a hand, her fingers brushing against her own lips as she sensually traced their outline. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft, alluring sigh, as if she were lost in the allure of the moment.
Gabriel, fully aware of the game being played, gently intercepted Clara's hand before it could venture any further to his genital.
His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers lingering for a moment against hers. "Darling, I'm quite busy at the moment," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
His other hand moved to rest on her waist, the touch possessive yet tender. "But we can certainly have our fun later, right after I clear some of this piled-up work. Alright?"
Clara's eyes flickered with a mix of disappointment and excitement, a subtle acknowledgment that their dance of seduction had been noticed and appreciated.
She nodded, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Alright," she purred, a promise hanging in the air between them.
Gabriel flashed his practiced charming smile and instructed Clara to leave.
"Oh, one more thing, Sir. There's another guest who wishes to meet you," Clara spoke up suddenly.
"Who?"
"Um, There is… Miss Fiona Elizabeth Lambert, Sir."
Gabriel's eyes widened. Liz? "Is that so?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Let her in."
As Clara exited the room, the corners of Gabriel's lips couldn't help but lift further. His previously weary expression transformed, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
The cloud that had been looming over him seemed to dissipate, replaced by an air of anticipation.
Gabriel had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Ever since those initial Alpha calls he had made to Liz, he had been secretly yearning for a day when she would come to him voluntarily.
No summons needed.
He knew that she was coming with her own set of needs, and Gabriel was more than ready to fulfill them. As much as Liz desired.
With a mixture of determination and excitement, Gabriel considered the forthcoming encounter. He knew he had to play his part to perfection.
His fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glimpse of the toned muscles underneath. Settling back into his chair, he leaned back, running his fingers through his hair with a practiced nonchalance.
His expression bore a smug and teasing smirk, exuding an aura of confidence. It felt like a victorious conquest was within his grasp.
In his imagination, he pictured Liz entering the room. The soft glow of candlelight casting intriguing shadows on his sculpted features, the partially undone shirt inviting curiosity, the air thick with an unspoken tension.
He envisioned her gaze widening in awe, perhaps even her breath hitching, a reaction he had mastered evoking in others.
The scenario played out in his mind, his ego feeding off the idea of her falling to her knees in undeniable attraction. The anticipation of her reaction only fueled his excitement further.
The approaching footsteps grew louder, and Gabriel's gaze turned more focused, the eagerness in his eyes palpable.
He could almost feel the charged atmosphere as it thickened, ready to ignite with the sparks of their impending interaction.
Yet, when the door swung open with an unexpected forceful slam, his fantasy crumbled. The dramatic shift was immediate, and his confident demeanor wavered as Liz's words sliced through the air.
"I KNOW YOU'RE BEHIND THIS! EXPLAIN WHY MY WOUNDS CAN HEAL WITHOUT A TRACE?! YOU MUST HAVE WHAT THE ANCIENT PROPHECY TALKS ABOUT, THE BLOOD OF THE MOON!!!"
The room seemed to freeze in that very moment, the tension between them almost tangible. Gabriel's surprise was evident, his brows furrowing as he grappled with the unexpected turn of events.
The encounter had taken a sharp detour.