Chapter 146

Chapter 146
Isabella's POV

Early morning, gray light filtered through the curtains into the room. When I woke, my body felt heavy with exhaustion and the weight of seven months' pregnancy, my spine aching dully. The baby turned slowly inside me, that gentle rolling motion making me catch my breath. For a moment, I lay quietly, listening to the silence of the manor.

Then I saw him.

Gabriel stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me, shoulders tense as a drawn bowstring. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing lean muscle and faint scars that recorded his past. His hands braced against the window frame, knuckles white, and even from across the room I could sense that indescribable tension radiating from him.

I slowly pushed myself up, one hand supporting my lower back, the other cradling my swollen belly. The mattress creaked softly beneath me, and Gabriel turned immediately, a flash of sharp yet vulnerable emotion in his eyes before he worked to restore his calm.

"You're awake." He strode over, his palm warm and firm on my lower back, helping me adjust my position. "How do you feel? Is she still kicking?"

"She's quiet." I grasped his wrist, could feel— "You're worried about Quincy."

Gabriel's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it. He sat on the edge of the bed, his thumb unconsciously rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "The doctors say his wounds are healing well, but the broken ribs still need time. Last night's surgery was successful, but he needs observation."

"You want to see him."

"I have to." His voice was low and hoarse. "Today we're cleaning up the Donovan family's remaining forces. Before I leave, I need to make sure he's really okay."

My heart clenched. I understood the weight of that word "cleanup" all too well—over the years, I'd learned exactly what it meant. "You're going to..."

"Leave no one." Gabriel cut me off, his tone calm to the point of coldness, as if merely discussing the weather. "Felix escaped from the church. He's hiding in an abandoned shipyard in the south district, still controlling three weapons caches and a money-laundering channel. The remaining seventeen core members of the Donovan family are scattered throughout the city, each with blood on their hands."

He raised his hand, fingertips gently brushing the curve of my belly where our daughter was growing. "I promised you and her that when she's born, all threats will be gone. Today is when I keep that promise."

I bit my lower lip. Rationally, I knew this was necessary—Marcus's people had kidnapped me, nearly killed our child, and just last night sent assassins into the manor. They wouldn't stop seeking revenge. But emotionally...

"I know what you're thinking." Gabriel leaned forward, forehead against mine. "You're wondering if I'm being too cruel."

"No." I gripped his hand tighter. "I'm just worried about you. Felix didn't escape the church by luck. He knows you're coming, and he's cunning."

"Which is why I'm bringing enough firepower." Gabriel pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. "Aiden has already deployed three teams. We have intelligence on all of Felix's locations. This isn't a risk—it's a reckoning."

He stood, reaching for the bulletproof vest on the bedside chair. I watched him methodically put on his gear, checking his comm device and backup magazines, every movement calm and practiced. This was his routine, and because of my pregnancy, I could only watch quietly.

"I want to come with you to see Quincy," I said.

Gabriel's movements stilled. He turned to look at me. "Isabella..."

"I won't go to the operation site." I spoke before he could refuse. "But Quincy nearly died protecting us. I should see him. And..." I took a deep breath. "I need to know your state before you leave. If you're too wound up, I'll worry all day."

Gabriel stared at me for several seconds, emotions complex in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, as if reluctantly conceding. "All right. But you stay in the medical wing. You absolutely cannot follow to the operation."

"Deal."

Half an hour later, we walked together into the manor's underground medical wing, our footsteps echoing against stone walls. This space had once been a wine cellar, now transformed into an efficient medical facility—heart monitors humming softly, IV stands gleaming under lights, a surgical table against the wall, and a portable X-ray machine in the corner.

Quincy lay in the hospital bed, his left side wrapped in thick bandages, face pale but eyes still sharp. Seeing us enter, he tried to sit up. Gabriel stopped him with a single look.

"Stay down." Gabriel moved to the bedside, his gaze scanning the monitors. "Does it still hurt?"

"Better than yesterday." Quincy's voice was hoarse and strained. "Boss, I can still help with today's operation—"

"You're not going anywhere." Gabriel's tone brooked no argument. "Four broken ribs, lung contusion, right leg just out of surgery. Your only job right now is to heal."

Quincy's fist clenched on the blanket, frustration written across his face. "But Felix escaped from the church. He'll retaliate—"

"I'll handle it personally." Gabriel's voice was cold as ice. "You've done enough."

"Boss, Felix still has the Donovan family's core ledger. It records all the weapons deals and money-laundering channels. If he turns the ledger over to the FBI..."

"He won't." Gabriel gave a cold laugh. "His name is in that ledger too. Felix knows better than anyone that if those records go public, he'll die worse than Marcus."

"Then he'll destroy it." I spoke up suddenly.

Both men turned to look at me.

"If Felix is smart enough," I said slowly, "he'll burn all the evidence and flee to a country with no extradition treaty."

Gabriel was silent for a moment, approval flickering in his eyes. "You're right. So we have to get that ledger before he destroys it."

He turned to Quincy. "Aiden's intel shows Felix was last seen at the abandoned shipyard in the south district. The Donovan family has a secret vault there. The ledger is most likely hidden inside."

"The shipyard's layout is complicated." Quincy frowned. "Felix will have set traps, and he still has loyal men."

"I know." Gabriel's voice was cold as a blade. "We're attacking from three directions. Aiden leads the first team in a frontal diversion, drawing their fire. The second team infiltrates from the waterway, cutting off escape routes. I'll personally lead the third team through the ventilation system into the vault."

"Boss, the ventilation system is too dangerous." Quincy struggled to rise. "Let me—"

"Your job is to heal." Gabriel pressed him back down. "Quincy, you're one of the people I trust most. But today, I need you alive—not taking another bullet for me."

Quincy's throat worked, and finally he nodded.

Gabriel straightened, turning to me. "I need to leave."

I caught his hand, fingertips curling around his palm, feeling his warmth. "Be careful."

"I will." He bent down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Wait for me to come home."

He turned and left, his black silhouette disappearing through the medical wing door. I stood there, my hand instinctively settling on my belly—the baby kicked gently, as if comforting me.

"He'll be fine." Quincy said weakly. "Boss has never failed."

I looked back at him, forcing a smile. "I know."

But my heart was still clenched tight, as if held by an invisible hand.

Two hours after Gabriel left, I found myself sitting in the manor's study, restless and unable to focus on anything. A worn notebook from my mother's collection lay open on my lap, but I couldn't read a single word. Outside the window, the sky hung low, dark clouds gathering, promising rain.

The comm device sat quietly on the desk, its screen dark. Gabriel had said he wouldn't contact me during the operation to avoid compromising his position. But I couldn't stop myself from glancing at it every few minutes, hoping it would suddenly light up.

"Ma'am." The butler knocked and entered, carrying a cup of warm milk. "You should eat something."

"I'm not hungry." I shook my head.

He sighed, setting the milk on the desk. "Boss specifically instructed me to make sure you eat on schedule. If you don't, he'll be upset when he returns."

I smiled bitterly and picked up the cup, taking a small sip. The warm liquid slid down my throat, but couldn't dispel the cold dread in my chest.

Time seemed frozen. The clouds outside grew thicker and thicker, until finally rain began tapping against the glass like countless invisible hands knocking.