Chapter 3 - THE MARRIAGE THAT SAVED MY FATHER
My father had never wanted me to marry Gabriel Romano.
That was the cruelest part.
Six months earlier, Bennett Construction had been drowning.
My father, Thomas Bennett, had spent thirty years building the company from a single pickup truck and a borrowed cement mixer.
He employed forty-three people.
Men and women who had mortgages, children, and parents depending on them.
Then a major commercial project collapsed.
A developer failed to pay.
The bank called in a loan.
And suddenly, everything my father had built was at risk.
Gabriel Romano appeared with a solution.
A legitimate investment agreement.
A restructuring plan.
And an offer of marriage.
The marriage had not been a legal requirement of the investment.
It had been Gabriel's personal proposal, presented during negotiations.
He said our families had known each other for years.
He said he respected my father.
He said he wanted a wife who understood loyalty.
I was twenty-eight.
He was thirty-six.
And I barely knew him.
Still, I agreed.
Not because I loved him.
Because I believed it would keep the company alive.
The wedding took place in a small chapel outside Chicago.
No flowers.
No photographers.
No elaborate reception.
Gabriel wore a black suit.
I wore a cream dress I'd bought on clearance.
He slipped a simple gold band onto my finger.
Then kissed my forehead.
Not my lips.
That night, he showed me to a bedroom on the second floor of his estate.
“Your room,” he said.
I stared.
“And yours?”
“Across the hall.”
I nodded.
He hesitated.
“Catherine, I won't expect anything from you.”
I looked at him.
“Anything?”
He smiled faintly.
“Anything you don't freely want to give.”
For six months, we lived like polite strangers.
We ate breakfast together when his schedule allowed.
He asked about my father's company.
I asked about his work.
Sometimes we talked about books.
Once, during a thunderstorm, he found me sitting in the library because I couldn't sleep.
He brought me tea.
Then sat nearby reading until the storm passed.
I began to wonder whether there was another man beneath the reputation.
But Gabriel never crossed the invisible line between us.
And I was too frightened to cross it first.
Now, sitting in the library with my injured hand resting in his, I finally asked:
“Why did you marry me?”
He looked up.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he answered:
“Because I wanted you in my life.”
My breath caught.
He continued.
“I'd met you three years earlier at your father's charity auction. You were arguing with a contractor who had underpaid his workers.”
I stared.
“You remember that?”
He smiled faintly.
“You threatened to report him.”
“He deserved it.”
“I agreed.”
He looked down.
“When your father's company was in trouble, I wanted to help. And I wanted to know you.”
I swallowed.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
His expression changed.
“Because I was afraid you'd think I was buying your affection.”
I stared at him.
“And instead, you let me think you were buying a wife.”
He closed his eyes.
May you like
“Yes.”
For the first time, Gabriel Romano looked ashamed.
