Page 157 of The Bonus

I walk out to my waiting car to find Mark standing by it. “Good morning, sir.”

“Morning.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

The drive to the office is relatively short, and my mind is a whirlwind of nervous excitement. I just want to get back to Greenville…to her.

I think about the weekend and moving into the new house and telling the children, and I smile out the window. . . I have so much to look forward to.

I’m more excited about this weekend than I ever was about my upcoming wedding. That in itself says a lot.

I thought that perhaps I was making the biggest mistake of my life by ending it with Ariana, but finding that box has brought with it a sense of relief.

I’m not in this alone, Grace did feel the same, and I know that a lot of time has passed since then…but if she felt it once, she can feel it again.

The car pulls up to the front of the office to a media circus with security guards waiting around. “Fuck’s sake.”

“Shall I keep driving?”

“No, I have to go in. Pull the car up.”

The car comes to a halt and Mark gets out and opens my door, the cameras start to flash and the bodyguards begin to push people. “Get back.”

“Mr. Ferrara, are you devastated about the wedding?” someone yells.

“Is it true you’re having an affair, Gabriel?” another shouts.

“Who is the other woman, Mr. Ferrara?”

I brush past them as the cameras flash.

“Where is Ariana now? Is it true that she has checked into a mental health clinic?”

I clench my jaw in fury as I push through the crowd.

Fuck this.

I take the elevator and walk through reception. “Good morning, Mr. Ferrara.”

“Good morning.”

“Mrs. Ferrara is in your office, sir.”

Great.

“Thank you.” I walk up the corridor and into my office to find my mother sitting at my desk, her back is ramrod straight with not a hair out of place.

I roll my lips to stop myself from outright verbally attacking her, close the door behind me and take a seat at my desk.

I can hardly contain my anger, and animosity swirls through the air. “Yes, Mother?” I say. “Can I help you?”

She crosses her legs and sits back in her chair. “You’re angry.”

I glare at her as I hold my tongue.

“I went to her to protect you,” she stammers as she begins to get nervous. “And I saw her evil firsthand with my own eyes.”

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