Chapter 152

Chapter 152
Isabella's POV

Morning light filtered through the bedroom curtains, falling warm against my eyelids. Angel's cry pulled me from sleep—that persistent, clear sound unique to newborns, as if announcing her existence to the world.

I instinctively reached for Gabriel's side of the bed. The sheets were cold. He'd already gotten up. I rubbed my eyes, pulled on my robe, and padded barefoot toward the nursery.

The door stood half-open. I stopped at the threshold, frozen by the scene before me.

Gabriel stood in the center of the room, Angel nestled in his arms. He wore only a black T-shirt and sleep pants, his feet bare against the hardwood floor. This man who had once struck fear into countless hearts was now gently swaying, coaxing his daughter in a low murmur.

"Shh, Angel. Your mother still needs rest." His large hand cradled her small head with impossible tenderness. "Just a little longer, sweetheart."

Angel's cries gradually turned to sniffles. Her tiny fist clutched his shirt, those green eyes gazing at his face with the trust only infants possess.

"You're awake." Gabriel looked up and saw me, his expression softening. "She's hungry. I was just about to call you."

I walked over, and he carefully transferred Angel into my arms, as if handing over the most precious treasure in the world. I settled into the rocking chair and began nursing. Gabriel knelt beside us, one hand resting on my knee, the other extending his index finger for Angel's small hand to grip tightly.

"Her strength is growing." The corner of his mouth lifted with a hint of pride. "Every day she's getting bigger."

"Yes." I looked down at our daughter, my heart full of tenderness. "She's growing so fast."

After Angel finished eating, she let out a satisfied burp. I held her upright against my shoulder, patting gently. Gabriel took her with practiced ease, laid her in the crib, and carefully tucked the blanket around her.

"The weather's good today." He paused, as if choosing his words. "I want to take you both somewhere."

"Where?" I asked softly.

Gabriel was silent for several seconds, weighing his response. "Your mother's cemetery. I think it's time Angel met her grandmother."

My heart skipped a beat. These past two months, I'd thought countless times about visiting Mother, but I'd never managed to take that step. The memories and the pain of loss always held me back.

Gabriel's hand gently took mine, his thumb stroking my wrist soothingly. "Your mother would be proud of you."

I drew a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

By midday, the convoy had entered the cemetery. Autumn sunlight filtered through the leaves, the air carrying the scent of grass and earth.

I stood before Mother's headstone with Angel in my arms, Gabriel standing quietly behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder. The marble was clean and well-maintained—someone had clearly been caring for it regularly.

"Mom, I brought Gabriel and Angel to see you." I tried to keep my voice steady, but it still trembled.

Angel made a small cooing sound, her tiny fist waving in the air. I looked down at her clear green eyes, my heart swelling with complex emotions.

Gabriel's voice came low and solemn: "I promise you, Mrs. Langley, Isabella and Angel will always have my protection."

I turned to look at him. His eyes were full of determination and commitment.

"Your daughter is brave." He continued, his tone reverent yet gentle. "She wasn't broken by darkness. Instead, she used the courage and wisdom you gave her to help us end the Donovan family's threat."

Tears finally broke free, bringing with them the grief and longing I'd suppressed for so long.

"Mom, I miss you so much." My voice broke with sobs. "I wish you could see Angel, could see my life now. It's not the peaceful life you once hoped for me, but I'm happy. I'm safe."

Gabriel wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me into his embrace. I held Angel, the three of us pressed close together. Angel seemed to sense my emotion, her small hand patting my arm gently, as if comforting me.

We stayed until the afternoon sun began its westward descent. As we left, I looked back one last time at Mother's headstone, feeling something inside me finally loosen—the grief hadn't disappeared, but it had found its proper place.

Mother had left me more than just the bookshop and old books. She'd left me the courage to face darkness. Now, I would pass that courage on to Angel.

On the drive back, the convoy passed through the neighborhood I hadn't seen in so long. As we entered the familiar streets, my heartbeat quickened involuntarily. Months ago, Haven Books had been ruins—but now, the building before me looked completely renewed.

The exterior had been painted a warm cream color. The display window showcased exquisite antique books. Above the door hung that familiar hand-carved sign: Haven Books: Every old book deserves to be treated gently.

I turned to Gabriel, words catching in my throat.

"Quincy supervised the reconstruction. Aiden contacted the best craftsmen. Dominic selected the first books to stock." Gabriel adjusted Angel in his arms. "They all remembered how much you loved this place."

I pushed open the door. The brass bell chimed—the same bell Mother had hung years ago, now restored.

The interior layout was almost exactly as I remembered. The reading nook by the window, the organized shelves, the repair workstation in the corner, even the worn leather sofa had been carefully mended.

"The workstation is arranged according to your habits." Gabriel came to stand beside me, his voice soft. "All your tools are in the drawer."

I walked to the workstation and pulled open the drawer to find my familiar tools, spotlessly clean. My fingers traced the handle of the tweezers, touching the marks left by years of use.

"Gabriel..." I choked, unable to speak.

"This is yours. It always has been." He gently placed Angel in the nearby bassinet. "You once said this bookshop was your connection to your mother, your haven. I just helped bring it back."

I turned and embraced him, burying my face in his chest. His hand stroked my hair gently, offering wordless comfort.

"I thought I'd lost everything," I whispered. "Thought I could never come back."

"As long as I'm here, you'll always have a home to return to." His voice was low and firm.

Angel stirred softly in the bassinet. We both turned to watch her, seeing her curious eyes taking in the bookshelves and sunlight.

"She'll grow up here," I said softly. "Just like I did as a child."

Gabriel took my hand. "She'll understand that old books' value isn't in their price, but in the stories and memories they carry."

The afternoon gradually faded into evening, and we were reluctant to leave the bookshop. By the time we returned home, the sky had been painted amber and rose. In the days that followed, I found myself constantly drawn back to Haven Books. Sometimes I went alone, sometimes with Gabriel and Angel.

One afternoon, as I was organizing the children's books Dominic had selected, Gabriel approached with an old volume in his hands.

"Isabella."

I turned to see the 1960s edition of Jane Eyre he held, its cover faded but the gilt lettering on the spine still clear.

"I found this at an auction." He came closer, his movements especially careful. "It's supposedly from a private collection, with many handwritten annotations inside."

I took the book and opened to the title page, seeing that familiar handwritten line: "Reader, I married him."

"Keep going," Gabriel said softly.

I turned the page. A folded note lay tucked in the book, covered in Gabriel's handwriting:

Isabella,

From the moment you protected Dominic in your bookshop, I knew you were different. You fought the world's cruelty with gentleness, guarding something beautiful with a small shop.

I thought I could only exist in darkness, but you showed me that even in the deepest shadows, there are things worth protecting.

I can't promise you a completely peaceful life, but I promise that no matter what happens, I will protect you and Angel, and everything you hold dear.

Marry me, Isabella. Let me spend the rest of my life proving I'm worthy of your trust.

—Gabriel

Beneath the note lay a ring—platinum, set with an emerald surrounded by small diamonds.

My vision blurred, tears sliding down my cheeks.

"This was my mother's ring." Gabriel knelt on one knee, his eyes showing unprecedented vulnerability and hope. "Her most treasured possession. I can't think of anything that better represents my heart."

He looked up at me, his gaze reflecting everything we'd been through together.

"I know my world is dark, my hands stained with blood. But here, by your side, I can just be a husband, a father."

He extended his hand. "Isabella, will you marry me?"

I trembled as I took the ring. "Yes, Gabriel."

He stood and carefully slipped the ring onto my finger. The emerald sparkled in the sunlight like a witnessed promise.

"I'll spend my life protecting you and Angel," he said softly, "protecting every bit of beauty you love."

I leaned into his embrace, listening to his steady heartbeat. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating every book and our future.