Filed to story: When His Wife Can’t Forgive
Pierre pretended not to hear her. “What was that?”
Gemma raised her voice. “I said you’re so oblivious. Can’t you even guess what I’m thinking? It’s frustrating that I’m so fond of you!”
Her candid expression of affection caught Pierre off guard, wiping the smile from his face.
The most skilled liars in society were often those in positions of power. Perhaps there was always a sliver of truth hidden in their deception, but it never lasted. With a forced smile, Pierre suggested, “It’s too late for that now. Let’s save the kiss for after breakfast.”
At moments like this, Pierre found himself grateful for Gemma’s natural charm. She was effortlessly endearing, and her lightheartedness made it easier to tolerate her whims. If Corey’s sister had been less appealing or more demanding, he wasn’t sure he’d have the patience to humor her.
Just as they began breakfast, the door swung open, and Corey strode in. His eyes narrowed upon seeing Gemma feeding Pierre, and his demeanor chilled as he approached.
Pierre quickly swallowed the egg and rose to his feet. “Mr. Hampton,” he greeted respectfully.
Gemma looked up, startled but soft in her tone. “Corey, what brings you here this early?”
Ignoring her, Corey pulled out a chair forcefully and sat down, legs splayed. “What’s this I see? Feeding the bodyguard?”
Pierre opened his mouth to explain, but Corey’s glare silenced him. “Did I give you permission to speak?” His tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
Gemma frowned, her voice rising in protest. “Why are you being so harsh? I don’t like egg yolks, so I made him eat it. What’s the big deal?”
Corey’s face darkened further. “You’re defending him? Are you taking a bodyguard’s side against your own brother?”
From the moment he entered, Corey had been visibly upset. Now, it was as though he’d found the perfect outlet for his simmering anger. His gaze locked onto Pierre, and he ordered Pierre to kneel.
Pierre complied without hesitation, lowering himself to the floor with a stoic expression.
Gemma’s anxiety spiked. “Corey, please stop! What are you doing?”
Pierre, realizing the tension was escalating, tried to diffuse the situation. “Miss Hampton, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have joined you for breakfast or accepted what you offered. I overstepped my boundaries and deserve to be punished.”
Corey’s response was icy. “Is that all you have to say?” Recalling the previous night’s events, Pierre suddenly understood the depth of Corey’s anger. He bowed his head. “I drove too fast last night. I understand now, Mr. Hampton. It won’t happen again.”
Corey’s temper flared, his voice rising. “You think a simple apology fixes everything? I felt sick the entire night, and you think your few words are enough?”
Gemma couldn’t hold back. “Oh, come on, Corey! He drove fast, yes, but you drank too much. That’s not Pierre’s fault.”
Standing her ground, she helped Pierre to his feet, saying, “You don’t need to kneel.”
Pierre gripped her arm, gently urging, “Miss Hampton, please don’t worry about me.”
Corey’s expression darkened further, venom in his voice as he scowled at Pierre. “You’ve got some nerve, don’t you? How long did it take you to win her over? To make her defend you against me?”
Gemma fired back, “You’re just making baseless accusations. Why must you be so troublesome?” Stunned, Corey could barely believe his ears. “You think I’m troublesome?”
Softening slightly, Gemma said, “Well, yes, you are being troublesome right now.”
The comment seemed to push Corey over the edge. He had intended to vent his anger on Pierre, but Gemma’s defense of Pierre had unexpectedly inflamed his temper further.
“Enough!” Corey snapped, his voice filled with finality. “You’re fired, Pierre. Get out!”
“I won’t allow it!” Gemma blurted out instinctively, her voice firm and unwavering.
Corey’s gaze darkened as he snapped, “It’s not your decision to make!”
“I don’t care!” Gemma’s voice rang out, sharp and resolute. “If you make Pierre leave, then you’re no brother of mine!”
The defiance in her words darkened Corey’s expression further. “You’ve really got some nerve, challenging me like this!” he shot back, his tone laced with disbelief.
But Gemma didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, her small frame brimming with fierce determination. Like a protective bird shielding its nest, she positioned herself firmly in front of Pierre, ready to defend him at all costs. Pierre watched her his face a mixture of admiration and concern. To him, this altercation seemed trivial. Even if Corey dismissed him today, he knew there would be other opportunities to return. However, he hadn’t anticipated Gemma’s bold stand.
The siblings shared a stubborn streak, and neither seemed inclined to yield. Suddenly, Gemma’s breath hitched, and she began to gasp for air, her body weakening as she leaned heavily against Pierre.
Without hesitation, Pierre lifted her into his arms and applied a rescue technique he had learned and used before.
Corey froze, his anger forgotten. He moved as if to help but hesitated, realizing Pierre knew exactly what he was doing. For once, Corey had to admit Pierre was better equipped to handle this.
Moments later, Gemma’s lips parted, and she took a deep, steady breath. Color returned to her cheeks as her breathing evened out.
Watching this, Corey’s anger ebbed away, replaced by a sense of helplessness. He slumped against the table. Pierre, holding Gemma carefully, turned to Corey and called out with a deep sense of gravity, “Mr. Hampton.”
Corey’s impatience was palpable as he directed, “Take her upstairs to rest.”
“Alright,” Pierre responded, carefully carrying Gemma upstairs.
Once they had departed, Corey lingered in the silence of the room, his thoughts turning to Gemma’s health. She had undergone heart surgery, yet she still suffered episodes of oxygen deprivation. He gazed up at the bedroom, realizing Gemma’s actions were likely a ruse. Though he saw through her tactics, he sighed, resigned to turn a blind eye unless he caught her outright.
Gemma listened to the sound of the door closing. When she was sure Corey had left, she broke into a mischievous giggle. “Didn’t I put on a good show?” she asked, still cradled in Pierre’s arms.
Pierre, who had seen through her act from the start, raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you worried about hurting your brother’s feelings with all this?”
“He’s being unreasonable,” Gemma retorted with dissatisfaction. “If I hadn’t stepped in today, who knows what might have happened to you?”
She had seen Corey’s ruthlessness before and couldn’t bear the thought of Pierre being on the receiving end.
“But why were you driving so fast last night?” Gemma asked, her curiosity piqued. She had always seen Pierre as the most capable and composed of her bodyguards. “I was eager to get back to you, so I may have sped a little. That was indeed my fault,” Pierre admitted calmly.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she whispered, “Well, it wasn’t wrong. That’s what you’re supposed to do, after all.”
Later, reflecting on the day’s events and feeling a twinge of guilt for manipulating Corey, Gemma decided to buy him a gift to make amends.
Whenever Gemma ventured out, Pierre was her chosen companion and protector. That day, besides picking out something for Corey, she also shopped for Pierre, selecting several clothes and daily necessities for him.
Pierre, uncomfortable with the attention and the expense, tried to decline. “These things are too expensive. Mr. Hampton will notice,” he said.
Gemma didn’t press further, returning some of the more conspicuous items. However, she couldn’t resist keeping two sets of matching loungewear for them.
Gemma was cheerfully selecting clothes, immersed in the array of options before her. Pierre found the activity dreary and stood aside, observing her choices.
Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked it and found a distressing message from an unknown number. “Please help me!”
At first, Pierre dismissed it as a prank, but something about the number seemed familiar. He scanned his call history and recognized it as Talia’s, his ex-girlfriend. The urgency of the message “Please help me!” was unlike Talia. She wasn’t one for pranks, especially not of this nature. Something must be wrong.
Concerned, Pierre hesitated and then decided to act cautiously. He contacted a friend in the police to check on Talia. But then, silence followed.
With limited connections, Pierre knew solutions wouldn’t come swiftly. He couldn’t help but worry about Talia, distracted by thoughts of her possible plight.
“Pierre.” Gemma’s call snapped him out of his reverie. “I’ve been trying to get your attention. Where were you?”
Regaining his composure, Pierre replied, “Oh, it’s loud in here. I didn’t hear you.”
Gemma sensed his evasion and felt slighted.
Trying to regain focus, Pierre asked, “What’s up?”
Gemma gestured toward a model across the store. “Do you like that dress?”
Pierre glanced at the model, who resembled Gemma in build but was rather plain, wearing an unremarkable dress. “It’s alright,” he said casually.
Gemma, detecting his lack of enthusiasm but undeterred, had the clerk prepare the dress for purchase. “I’m ready to go,” she declared, moving toward the exit.
Collecting the bags, Pierre followed, noting her annoyance. He explained, “A friend is in trouble. She sent a distressing message, and it’s been on my mind.”
Gemma’s eyes widened, her annoyance quickly shifting to concern. “When did this happen?”
“It’s already being handled. I’ve asked a friend to check on her,” Pierre replied.
“Have you heard anything yet?” Gemma asked, remembering Pierre’s limited circle in Warrington and feeling a twinge of unease. “I wouldn’t have suggested shopping…”
“If I’d known… Maybe you should go to her now,” Gemma suggested, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Pierre appreciated the worry in her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I’ll get you home first,” he responded.
Gemma chose not to press him further.
Once they arrived home, Pierre’s phone rang. It was Talia. His face grew somber.
Noticing his need for privacy, Gemma retreated to the living room to unpack her purchases.
Answering the call, Pierre heard Talia’s subdued voice.
“Pierre…”
“What’s happening? What did your message mean?” Pierre asked, concern etching his voice.
Talia’s voice wavered, betraying her attempt to sound casual. “It’s nothing. Just a silly argument that went too far.”
She hesitated and then shared more about her situation. Talia had met her fianc? during a low point in her career. He had been a comforting presence, and they had quickly fallen in love.
Initially, he seemed perfect, but a few months into their engagement, after she became pregnant, his darker side emerged.
Their first major argument had ended with a slap. Talia considered leaving, but he pleaded for forgiveness, blaming his behavior on alcohol and promising it wouldn’t happen again.
However, the violence escalated over time. Today, they had fought about his infidelity, revealed through hotel records. When Talia threatened to end their engagement, he assaulted her to the point of unconsciousness.
In a desperate moment before blacking out, Talia managed to send the message to Pierre. By the time she regained consciousness, her fianc? had placated her once more.
Pierre felt as though he was trapped in a soap opera. He remarked, “Domestic violence is never just a one-time thing. Why do you still think he won’t do it again?”
Talia sighed. “But what else can I do? I’m almost four months pregnant.”
“You have options,” Pierre replied softly. “Ending the pregnancy is one.”