Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel) novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Let Me In 

Clairessa’s POV 

Chapter 97 Let Me In 

Gabriel walked ahead of me as we entered the villa, his broad shoulders tense, his entire body still radiating anger. 

“Gabriel,” I called after him. 

He stopped but didn’t turn around. 

I quickened my pace, reaching out to wrap my fingers around his elbow. He was warm, his muscles rigid beneath my touch. Slowly, I turned him to face me, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might shatter. 

His face–God, his face–was a mess of bruises and fresh blood. A cut on his brow trickled crimson down his cheek. 

I reached up instinctively, brushing my fingers over the cut. 

He flinched. Pulled away. As though my touch burned. 

A deep ache spread through my chest. He wouldn’t even let me comfort him. 

Without saying a word, he strode to the bar, grabbing a glass with the same hands that had landed brutal punches just moments ago. He poured himself a glass of scotch. Then another. 

11:16 Tue, 25 Feb 

Chapter 97: Let Me In 

The silence pressed in, heavy, suffocating. 

I swallowed hard. “Gabriel, please… talk to me.” 

Still nothing. 

I stepped forward, reaching for his hand. “You’re hurt-” 

He jerked away before I could touch him. My gaze dropped to his bruised knuckles. 

“I’ve seen worse days,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, almost broken. 

I stared at him, my heart aching. “That doesn’t mean you have to suffer alone.” 

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He downed another drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. The loud clink of glass hitting the counter made me flinch. 

I fought past the lump in my throat. “I’ll find something to clean you up.” 

Without waiting for a response, I hurried into the bathroom. My hands shook as I rummaged through the cabinet, grabbing a small first–aid kit. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. 

When I returned, Gabriel was still at the bar, staring into his drink as if it held all the answers he refused to speak. 

“Gabriel, let me clean you up.” 

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Chapter 97: Let Me In 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, barely sparing me a glance before focusing on the glass in his hand. “It’s just a 

cut.” 

“No, you’re not,” I shot back, my voice shaking. “You’re bleeding, you’re drinking yourself numb, and you won’t even look at me!” 

With his head bowed, he dragged a hand through his hair, tension rolling off him in waves. For a long moment, he said nothing. 

Then, suddenly, he let out a deep breath and walked toward me. 

“Shh… shh,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying to convince himself. His dark eyes met mine–stormy. “I’m alright.” 

His fingers brushed against my hand–just for a second–before he pulled away, like he couldn’t bear to let me in. 

Overwhelmed, I choked out, “Then let me help you.” 

For the first time since we walked into the villa, his expression shifted. Some of the hardness in his face eased, and finally–finally–he let me in. 

He let me take his hand and lead him to the bed. I knelt beside him, carefully dabbing at the cut on his brow, my touch gentle, deliberate. 

He winced but didn’t pull away 

I wiped away the blood, making sure the wound was clean before pressing a bandage to it. Then, I reached for his hand, running a cloth over his bruised knuckles, cleaning the smears of blood. 

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11:17 Tue, 25 Feb 

Chapter 97: Let Me In 

His skin was red. Swollen. Torn. 

The force behind his punches must have been brutal. 

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My heart ached for Daniel–who had taken those blows and the pain he must be in–but even more for the man before me, the one who refused to let me in. 

I searched inside the first aid box for a bandage but found none. 

“I don’t have anything to wrap this,” I murmured, watching his reaction. 

Gabriel lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured me, as if sensing my 

concern. 

I nodded, but my heart was far from reassured. I hesitated before finally whispering, “Gabriel… we need to talk about what happened at the club.” 

His face turned to stone. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He stood abruptly, walking back to the bar like it was his only escape. He poured himself another drink. 

“There is,” I insisted, rising to my feet. “You lost control back there, Gabriel. And I refuse to believe it was just about an innocent kiss on the cheek.” 

“Don’t,” he warned darkly. “Don’t fucking talk about Daniel. Or the fact that you let him close enough to kiss you.” 

“He didn’t kiss me,” I shot back, my frustration beginning to build.. “It was a harmless peck on the cheek!” 

Chapter 97: Let Me In 

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He let out a cold, bitter chuckle. “I see.” 

“Gabriel, you have to believe me. Sergio and Raquel were right there!” 

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His stare pinned me in place, but it wasn’t just jealousy burning in his eyes. It was something deeper. Something painful.. 

“It doesn’t matter, now,” he growled, slamming the glass onto the counter. “You promised me. No man would get close to you. And you broke that promise.” 

The intensity of his voice sent a chill of fear through me, but I couldn’t let it show, so I held my ground. 

“I didn’t break my promise,” I insisted, my patience running out. “And I’m not blind, Gabriel. I know this isn’t just about me.” 

His gaze darkened. 

“Tell me the truth,” I urged. 

His breathing grew uneven. 

I stepped closer, standing right in front of him, and gently cupped his face. 

“All this pain you’re carrying…” My fingers traced his cheek, my touch tender. “Let me in. Please. Tell me what’s really going on.” 

“None of that matters anymore.” His lase 

He tried to pull away, but I refused to let him. 

Gabriel…” My fingers curled around his jaw, urging him to look at me. 

“It’s the past, and I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was heavy with pain, and I could see hurt etched in his features–the deep sorrow he carried, the wounds he had buried so long ago. 

His eyes finally locked onto mine, and then something shifted. 

I saw the transition in his gaze: the smoldering anger and rage giving way to a raw, desperate passion. 

Before I could process it, his hands slipped into my hair, gripping tight and desperate. His forehead pressed against mine, and his ragged breath mingled with mine. 

“Kiss me.” 

His tone then turned rough, commanding. 

“Kiss me. Now.” 

I blinked, startled. “Gabriel… what-” 

“Kiss me,” he repeated, his voice slow and urgent as his hand softly threaded through my hair, caressing and sending waves of warmth through me. 

My heart pounded. I knew I should push him away, force him to talk, and explain everything. But when his lips hovered just inches from mine, the heat between us blazed too fiercely to ignore. 

Before I could resist, he claimed my lips in a kiss so deep, so consuming, I forgot to breathe. 

He poured every emotion into it; I could taste the whiskey mixed with his desire. It was intoxicating. 

I wanted more. More of him. 

His hand slid down my lower back, drawing me even closer, pressing me against him. 

But something inside me screamed to stop. 

This wasn’t right. He was using this–using me–to deflect from what he was feeling. 

“Not like this,” I gasped, forcefully breaking the kiss and pushing against his chest, desperate for an 

answer.