Chapter 135

Chapter 135
Isabella's POV

Morning sunlight poured through the study's floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm patches across the dark carpet. I lay on my side on the sofa, holding a book, my fingertips gently caressing the yellowed pages. The baby kicked again, harder than yesterday, and I couldn't help but smile, my other hand instinctively moving to rest on my slightly rounded belly.

Gabriel stood at his desk, black shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing strong forearms. He was taking an encrypted call from Quincy, phone pressed to his ear, green eyes focused intently on the spread-out city map. I noticed the faint curve of his lips, that cold expression reminding me of a leopard locking onto prey.

"The situation at the North District dock?" Gabriel's voice was low and powerful, carrying its usual sense of control.

Quincy's voice came through the speakerphone, "The 'loss' illusion is executing perfectly. Marcus's people have taken full control, their flag was raised last night. Our core assets and personnel were transferred to backup locations two days ago."

I set down the book and sat up straight. The baby seemed to sense my tension and kicked again, this time below my ribs, somewhat painful. I took a deep breath, trying to relax.

"And Douglas?" Gabriel walked to the map, his finger landing on the financial district.

"He sent word that Marcus paid no attention to his actions." Quincy's tone carried a trace of irony. "Just sent someone to deliver a warning. Marcus clearly thinks Douglas isn't worth handling personally."

Gabriel laughed softly, "Of course. In his eyes, Douglas is just an ant he can crush at any time. A financier backed into a corner—what waves could he possibly make?"

He turned, his gaze falling on me, the coldness instantly melting away, replaced by familiar warmth. He walked over and sat on the sofa's edge, reaching out to adjust my cushions.

"Have Douglas continue as planned." Gabriel spoke into the phone, but his eyes remained fixed on me. "Cut Marcus's funding chains step by step. He's occupied the dock now, probably thinking he's already won half the battle—this is when he's most complacent."

"Understood." Quincy responded. "And the next step?"

Gabriel's hand covered mine, our fingers interlacing. His fingers were warm and strong, slightly calloused, gripping firmly: "It's time to begin the next phase. According to our plan, manufacture an 'internal conflict.'"

After hanging up, Gabriel gently kissed my hand. I looked at his profile, that usually hard face now softened in its lines.

"It's starting?" I asked softly, unable to hide the tension in my voice.

"Yes." He leaned close, his forehead gently touching mine, our breaths mingling.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his palm. The sunlight outside was warm, but I knew the storm was coming.

Two hours passed quietly in tense preparation. Gabriel reopened the encrypted video conference system, and the study's atmosphere shifted from earlier warmth and intimacy to the cold efficiency of a war room. The screen split in two—Quincy on the left, Aiden on the right.

I didn't leave. Instead, I sat in the nearby armchair, still holding that book, though I couldn't absorb a single word. The baby seemed to sense the change in atmosphere too, moving restlessly in my belly, making me uncomfortable.

"The plan is entering its next phase." Gabriel got straight to the point, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "I need you to stage a performance at the dock. A power struggle."

"It needs to be realistic enough—armed standoffs, heated words, even 'injuries.' I need Marcus to see that I've lost control of the situation."

Aiden frowned slightly: "Boss, won't this affect your image among other factions? If everyone thinks you can't even control your own people—"

"Temporary weakness is the price of permanent victory." Gabriel cut him off, his tone firm. "Marcus has taken the dock and is swelling with confidence. I need him to believe the Sullivan family is disintegrating from within. He'll definitely try to recruit one of you."

I listened to their conversation, my hand unconsciously stroking my belly. The baby kicked hard again, making me gasp softly. Gabriel immediately turned to look at me, concern flashing in his eyes.

"I'm fine." I smiled at him, gesturing for him to continue.

Gabriel watched me for several seconds before turning back to the screen: "Quincy, you'll play the role of 'ambitious subordinate wanting to establish himself as king.' Aiden, you'll 'accuse him of betrayal.' Remember—make Marcus's eyes see enough clear footage."

"Understood. Blood packs are ready—bullets grazing shoulders or thighs." Quincy nodded. "Let them see blood, see us 'lose control,' but we can't sustain real injuries that affect subsequent operations. Better to make it big enough to bring in the police to 'calm things down.' That makes it more authentic."

Aiden was silent for several seconds: "Boss, are you certain this is worth it? If Marcus doesn't take the bait—"

"He will definitely take the bait." Gabriel answered confidently. "He's already tasted success—taken the dock, seen Douglas 'betray' me with no retaliation. His ambition is expanding, his reason being devoured by greed. Give him one more signal of 'Sullivan internal conflict,' and he absolutely won't be able to resist interfering."

"Also, Quincy, after the 'conflict,' deliberately show disrespect toward me in communications. Let Marcus's eyes hear your dissatisfaction with me, your accusations of my 'incompetence.' Make him believe you've lost faith in me."

"Only then will he lower his guard and reach out his hand. And when he reaches out—that's when we sever his arm."

After the video conference ended, the study fell silent again. I set down the book and walked to Gabriel's side, placing my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and grasped my hand.

I leaned into his embrace, listening to his steady heartbeat. Outside the window, the sunlight gradually slanted westward, casting long shadows across the floor.

Two evenings later, Gabriel and I were reviewing security reports in the study when suddenly my phone chimed with an alert—from the underground news aggregator I'd set up.

I sat on the sofa, staring at Gabriel's laptop screen as he pulled up the video that had shocked the entire city. The footage was somewhat shaky, clearly shot covertly on a phone, but the quality was clear enough to see every detail.

The scene showed an open area outside a dock warehouse, shipping containers stacked into high walls, casting long shadows in the sunset. Quincy and Aiden stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a dozen subordinates, all looking tense.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?" Quincy demanded angrily. "North District profits—you want to pocket them all?"

"Bullshit!" Aiden shot back, his finger nearly jabbing Quincy's face. "It's you! You want to sideline the Boss and take over yourself! I saw through you long ago!"

"So what?" Quincy sneered, his voice full of ambition. "Don't you know what Gabriel's like now? Spending all day guarding that woman, completely ignoring family business! He no longer deserves to lead Sullivan!"

Hearing this, I involuntarily clenched my fists. Though I knew this was acting, hearing someone speak of Gabriel this way still made me uncomfortable. Gabriel sat beside me, his hand covering mine, patting gently, signaling me not to be nervous.

In the video, Aiden's face flushed red: "You're the one trying to usurp power while the Boss is vulnerable! I'll never let you succeed!"

"Then let's see you try!"

Quincy suddenly drew his gun. The surrounding subordinates immediately stirred, some trying to intervene but driven back by Quincy's glare. Aiden also drew his gun, the dark muzzle aimed at Quincy's chest.

"You dare shoot?" Aiden's voice trembled, whether from anger or fear unclear.

"Try me." Quincy's finger rested on the trigger.

The air seemed to freeze. The subordinates gripped their weapons tensely. The person filming the video's breathing quickened, the footage shaking more violently.

Then a shot rang out.