Chapter 169: The Last to Know

Chapter 169: The Last to Know
Gabriel's POV

"Guys! Isabella's pregnant! With my kid! My own flesh and blood!"

Oliver stood there, arms flung wide, waiting for our jaws to drop.

Except they didn't. We weren't shocked at all.

Luke and I swapped a quick glance before turning back to him. "Congrats," I said flatly.

Oliver's grin slipped. His arms dropped slowly as his eyes bounced between us. "That's it? That's all? Isabella—my Isabella—is pregnant with my baby!"

"We know," Luke said with a casual nod. "Again, congrats."

I watched realization hit Oliver like a truck. The shift from pure joy to total confusion was almost funny. Almost.

His face twisted in disbelief. He flopped onto the sofa across from us, raking his hands through his hair. "So everyone knew before me? The actual dad?"

"Pretty much," Luke confirmed, glancing at his watch.

Oliver shook his head, his excitement totally deflated. "Gabriel, was this your doing? Did you keep me stuck in London on purpose so I'd be the last to know? So I'd keep raking in cash for you while my girl was back here, pregnant and alone?"

I scoffed, irritation flaring. "Do I look like I give a damn about your personal drama?" The accusation was so ridiculous it didn't deserve more.

"You totally do!" Oliver jabbed a finger at me, half-joking but with real bite. "Some friend you are. I make you millions in London, and you can't even tip me off that my girlfriend's carrying my kid."

I arched an eyebrow, letting silence do the talking. This dramatic idiot.

"If it helps," Luke cut in, "I only found out 'cause Sophia can't keep a secret to save her life."

Oliver started pacing, excitement bubbling back up but mixed with frustration. "I can't believe this. I should've been the first to know!"

"Then maybe check your damn phone once in a while," I muttered, recalling how Shane had bitched about not reaching him.

Oliver halted, eyeing us both. "Well, at least I've got a baby on the way. What do you guys have?"

Luke chuckled, unfazed. "Actually, Sophia and I are... working on one ourselves."

They both turned to me, expectant. I took a slow sip of my drink, making them wait. "I've got Luna Gray. That's plenty."

Oliver burst out laughing. "And the award for biggest hard-ass goes to..." He drummed an imaginary roll. "Gabriel Ashford! The guy who can't admit he's losing at life!"

My expression iced over, the air chilling around me. Oliver's laugh died fast.

"Sorry, dude," he backpedaled. "Just messing around."

"Alright, enough," Luke said, smoothly killing the tension. "We're all good. Let's leave it there."

I fished the cigarette pack from my jacket, slipping one between my lips. I rolled it unlit between my teeth—a old habit from my smoking days. Luna hated the real thing, but the ritual still calmed me.

Talk shifted to business, but my mind wandered. Luna and I were back in this weird limbo—living together, sleeping together, but skirting the big stuff.

The office door swung open. Sophia popped out first, her face lighting up at Luke. She bolted across the marble floor and jumped into his arms.

Isabella followed, graceful as ever, her hand drifting to her still-flat belly without thinking. Oliver rushed over, snagging her bag and hovering like she was made of glass.

Then Luna appeared. My Luna.

Her eyes locked on mine instantly, that magnetic pull kicking in. I closed the gap, stopping just in front of her. "Work go okay today?" I asked, holding out my hand.

Luna eyed my hand, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. But with everyone watching, she took it—light, noncommittal.

"Fine," she said quietly.

In the car, silence hung heavy, thickening with every mile. I tried chatting—about her day, the project with Isabella, even the clear night sky. Luna gave one-word answers, staring out the window.

Finally, I couldn't take it. I signaled and pulled over.

Luna frowned at me. "Why are we stopping? We're not home yet."

I unbuckled us both and gently tugged her onto my lap. "Let me see," I said softly, cupping her face under the dashboard glow. Her cheeks were flushed, and not just from makeup. "What's wrong, Luna?"

She tried looking away, but I held her gaze. She sighed. "My throat hurts. It's nothing."

Worry hit me hard. I pressed my palm to her forehead—she was running warm. "Why didn't you say something?"

"There was nothing to say," she murmured, her voice raspy now that I was listening for it.

I grabbed the water bottle from the console and handed it over. "Drink. I'm calling in a prescription— it'll be at the apartment when we get there."

Luna sipped slowly as I made the call, getting meds delivered. When she finished, I traced my thumb along her neck, feeling her swallow painfully.

"You're quiet because it hurts, not because you're pissed at me," I realized, relief mixing with concern.

Luna shot me an exasperated but fond look. "Not everything's about you, Gabriel."

I cracked my first real smile of the night. "I thought you were done talking to me. Been wracking my brain figuring out what I screwed up."

"When you actually screw up, you'll know," she said, a spark of her fire returning. "I won't be quiet about it."

"Promise?" My voice dipped low.

Something softened in her eyes, warming the air between us. "Promise," she whispered.

I kissed her forehead and helped her back to her seat. "Let's get you home and in bed."

By the time we hit The Mayfair, her meds were waiting.

While Luna showered, I set up—tea with honey, extra blankets. She emerged in silk pajamas, hair damp, face fresh. I guided her to bed, handing over the pills with water.

"Doc said take these before sleep," I explained, watching her wince as she swallowed. Then I pulled out the other pack—the male birth control pills from our family.

Luna's eyes lingered on the pack, something thoughtful crossing her face. "Oliver's gonna be a dad," she said quietly, almost to herself.

"He is."

"Aren't you jealous?" she asked, meeting my gaze.

I sat beside her, lips curving into a small smile. "If you want me to stop taking these," I said, nodding at the pack, "I'm ready whenever you are."

Her eyes widened, surprise flashing before she went quiet. I hadn't planned to lay it out like that, but her reaction—the flush deepening, the wheels turning—made me glad I did.

Later, with Luna asleep beside me, I lay awake, moonlight spilling across the bed. She stirred, mumbling, then settled closer, her body curving into mine instinctively.

"Gabriel," she whispered, eyes cracking open in the dim light.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Luke and Sophia? As a couple, I mean."

I turned to her, surprised she was awake. "They balance each other. They're solid. Why?"

Luna hesitated, fingers tracing patterns on the sheet. "Are we like that? Complementary?"

My heart tightened at her vulnerability. I cupped her cheek. "We're more than that, Luna Gray," I said, voice low and sure. "Crook your finger, and I'm yours. Always have been."