Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel) novel Chapter 167

Gabriel’s POV

I stood by the window in my bedroom, staring out at the heavy downpour, hoping the rain could somehow drown out the noise in my head.

But it didn’t.

The ache in my chest was unbearable. It felt like someone had torn my heart out with their bare hands, and I was still expected to function.

To breathe. To move on.

Clairessa lied to me.

She deceived me.

And no matter how many times I tried to reason it out—tried to stitch together a narrative that didn’t hurt as much—I couldn’t move past it.

The sickest part? My own son was also in love with her.

We both fell for the same woman.

But I didn’t just fall. I plummeted.

I let my guard down for her. Let her in like she was my second chance at something I didn’t even believe in anymore.

Love.

I told myself she was different. Safe. Real.

Mine.

But no.

She wasn’t.

She was exactly like Angelique. The same games. The same fake innocence. The same damn sweetness masking manipulation. Deception. Lies.

And I bought into it.

God, I bought into it.

I wanted to hate her—to call her every name in the book. Cold. Manipulative. Heartless. Anything that might make the betrayal easier to bear.

But I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come.

Even after everything, I still couldn’t see her that way—not in my anger, not even in my heartbreak.

My mind tortured me with memories—images from the past month that refused to fade.

That first night at the club… the way she danced—seductive, unapologetic. Her eyes locked with mine across the room, like she already knew the damage she was about to cause.

Then she stumbled toward me, tipsy, laughing as she spilled her drink on my shirt. She flirted—boldly, shamelessly. And yet… beneath all that sexy confidence, I could taste her innocence—like she didn’t quite know what she was playing with.

She followed me into that hallway, kissed me like her life depended on it. There was passion in that kiss, but sweetness too. It lit something in me I hadn’t felt in years.

She gasped in pleasure, and even when I gave her an out, she begged me to make her forget.

And fuck… I did.

But who knew it was my own son she wanted to forget?

Then the boardroom—the fire in her voice when she stormed into my office and called me out for pretending not to know her. I played it cool, but the second I walked her out, I knew—there was no way in hell I was letting her go.

She carefully seduced her way into my life… for revenge. She confessed that much.

She dismantled every wall I’d spent years building, brick by brick, until I was exposed—wide open—and then she left me bleeding in the wreckage.

I let her into parts of me no one had touched in years.

I was vulnerable with her in ways I hadn’t been since Angelique—since everything she tried to destroy, everything I swore I’d never reopen.

God, I didn’t even want to finish the thought.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the tightness crushing my chest.

And then it hit me.

I told her to leave.

I threw her out.

Told her I never wanted to see her again.

I meant it.

Didn’t I?

Then why the hell was I standing here, wondering if she was still out there?

In the rain?

I didn’t want to care. Swore I didn’t. I shouldn’t—not after everything she’d done.

But I did.

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