The Price of Gold | Fortune's Fool #1

03 | corrupted my identity

• [ c o r r u p t e d  m y  i d e n t i t y ] •

♥ louisa ♥

HAND-LETTERING WAS ALWAYS a hobby that I found fun and as I sat in my English lesson doodling on a loose piece of paper in my folder, I began wondering what career I'd have gone into if I wasn't the heir to Darling Corporation. Perhaps something art-based. I'd always thought that art could never be wrong - different, yes, but never wrong. It was a visual representation of thoughts, causing even the most horrific of ideas to be transfigured into a beautiful mess.

"Hey, Darling," a voice said behind me, causing me to jump in my seat and loosen my grip on the pen.

Consequently, the pen slid down the page, over the carefully written words and crossed them out. "Oops, was that my fault? Sorry," the voice added with a sonorous chuckle as I turned around, prepared to yell at the cause of my anger.

I came face to face with Gabriel, his cloudy grey eyes shimmering with life, and standing out against his angular, structured face. Panic flew through me.

My mind felt disjointed at the sight of him. Perhaps, I still wasn't accustomed to seeing him in a suit. Though the memories were hazy, I could distinctly remember my first sighting of him.

The first time I saw him, he was wearing jeans and a shirt, with his brown-ish hair ruffled messily after running his hand through it too many times. Gabriel seemed to have lost the habit because as he stood in front of me, his hair was neatly combed upwards with each hair in impeccable place. I forced a smile, ignoring the irregular beating of my heart. "No worries, I was just killing time."

I looked away, hoping that he would just leave however the sound of a chair being pulled out on the desk right beside me said the opposite. Quietly, I cursed under my breath as I heard my name being whispered again, just as Mr Holland began teaching.

A guilty smile framed his face as I turned to him, "Have you got a spare pen I could borrow?" I gritted my teeth, eying the only spare pen I had - a Dunhill pen that my father had gifted me for my fifteenth birthday. The pen meant a lot to me considering the lack of contact we have nowadays and I was extremely reluctant to give it to him of all people.

Could I pretend I didn't have one?

His wandering eye, that was currently on Joanna's backside as she handed out a worksheet, suggested that he'd probably already seen it before he asked.

Sighing, I tossed it at him.

"Give it back after," I warned him sternly although he was too busy winking at the B-listers to hear me. They'd tactfully pulled down their blouses to flash their cleavage as soon as Gabriel had entered the classroom.

Talk about being desperate.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he responded, his eyes still wandering.

He really lacked self-control.

The minutes melted away and soon enough we were halfway through the lesson. Mr Holland had thought it would be utterly amazing to do partner work this term to develop our communication skills and a second later, I felt Forteaux's eyes on me as they awaited who I would work with.

I looked at my options.

Yasmine blinked at me desperately, a huge grin on her face whilst Zuzanna and a few other girls mimicked her expression.

Yet a moment later, the back of my chair was swung around ninety degrees and I came face to face with Gabriel. The suddenness and impact of the spin nearly sent my flying and I found myself grabbing his veined forearm for support. "Hey, Lou. Wanna be partners?"