Gabriella’s P.O.V

I stormed into the house like a tornado, heart pounding, rage boiling hot in my chest. The second the door slammed behind me, I hurled my purse across the living room. It landed with a thud against the far wall. One earring followed, then the other, both clinking on the marble tiles. I didn’t even feel them leave my ears. I was too furious. Too humiliated. My hands were shaking, not from fear—but from betrayal.

"Gabriella!" Tristan called after me, his ...