Chapter 132 Before Divorce, You Sleep Here!
Arabella looked up at him. "Why are you asking?"
"Don't overthink it. I just don't want the children searching for you and not knowing where to find their mother," Gabriel replied, his words contradicting his true intentions.
Arabella took him at face value, her eyes lighting up with hope. "Does that mean if the children miss me, they can visit me anytime?"
She had assumed that if she insisted on divorce, Gabriel would punish her by cutting off contact with the children entirely.
Hearing the expectation in her voice, Gabriel immediately changed his tune. "We'll see about that. Maybe once you walk out that door, you'll never see them again. Think carefully!"
Arabella fell silent.
His constant flip-flopping left her confused and exhausted. She couldn't be bothered to argue anymore.
Henry had finished nursing, releasing her nipple with a satisfied sigh.
Arabella held her son against her chest, gently patting his back to burp him, then glanced at Isabella in Gabriel's arms, who was waving her tiny hands and feet. "Let's switch. You hold Henry and get him to sleep."
Gabriel stood frozen, his expression shifting unpredictably, lost in his own thoughts.
Only when he heard her instruction did he snap back to reality. He bent down to place Isabella on the couch, then took Henry from Arabella's arms.
But he didn't leave.
Arabella didn't know what else to say to him. She simply adjusted her nursing position and began feeding Isabella.
They remained in this awkward standoff, neither speaking, each lost in their own troubled thoughts.
Finally, Mary knocked on the door. "Is Henry finished eating?"
Gabriel turned around. "Yes, he's done. Take him to bed."
"Of course!" Mary entered and took Henry away.
Gabriel settled into the armchair beside Arabella, fixing her with that same intense, death-stare gaze as she continued nursing.
Arabella felt her skin crawl under his scrutiny. Unable to stand it any longer, she looked up with obvious displeasure. "What's your deal? Why are you staring at me?"
Gabriel's expression remained unchanged as he pressed, "Where's the apartment? Are you sharing with roommates or living alone?"
So he was still fixated on this!
Arabella figured that with Gabriel's extensive network and influence, he'd find out eventually anyway. After a moment of resistance, she said, "Morgan International district. A one-bedroom, just me."
Gabriel's eyes showed surprise. "That area isn't cheap. Where did you get the money to rent somewhere that upscale?"
Arabella was done answering. "None of your business. The point is, I've already signed the lease."
"Did you borrow money from Manuel?" Gabriel could only think of one explanation. Otherwise, it made no sense.
William's inheritance, which rightfully included her share, lay untouched in the study safe after she'd refused it.
His credit card was still in her possession, but there'd been no recent charges.
She'd only been working a few days—not nearly enough to afford that kind of rent.
The only possibility was that Manuel had lent her money.
Manuel would be more than happy to help Arabella divorce—he'd assist enthusiastically.
Arabella met his gaze, her face showing clear irritation and impatience. "What exactly are you trying to do? Figure it out so you can go after someone else? That whole thing with Zane from my department—that was your doing, wasn't it?"
Gabriel hadn't expected her to bring this up. He smiled, surprisingly candid. "You mean that total scumbag? Yeah, that was me. Ridding society of creeps is every citizen's duty. Plus, I saved another poor woman from being deceived."
His straightforwardness left Arabella speechless.
And honestly, she couldn't really judge his actions.
For Zane's fiancée, discovering the truth before marriage and children was definitely a blessing in disguise!
Otherwise, the world would have gained another woman destroyed by a faithless man.
They clearly weren't seeing eye to eye, but Gabriel seemed determined to keep talking, maintaining that direct, unwavering stare.
Arabella suspected he was just staying to satisfy some twisted voyeuristic urge, using conversation as an excuse.
She reached for a throw blanket draped over the armrest, pulling it over her shoulders to cover both herself and Isabella—creating an impromptu nursing cover that blocked his view of her chest.
Gabriel blinked, refocusing, and when their eyes met, he smiled with contempt. "Paranoid much!"
Meaning he hadn't been looking at all—her precaution was unnecessary.
Arabella ignored him, pretending he didn't exist.
Even so, Gabriel remained seated until Isabella finished nursing and fell asleep.
"Please leave. I need to wash up and get some sleep," Arabella said, lifting her daughter to place her on the bed while issuing the dismissal.
Gabriel stood with her movements, but instead of heading for the door, he walked straight toward her.
Arabella's spine went cold. Sensing something was wrong, she spun around in panic, only to see him suddenly bend low and—
"Gabriel, what are you—ah!" She went pale with fright, her protest cut short as her body suddenly left the ground—he'd swept her up in his arms without warning!
Her terrified cry caught in her throat as she realized Isabella was still in her arms. She instinctively pressed the sleeping baby closer to her chest, not daring to struggle.
Her heart hammered as fury blazed through her veins.
"Gabriel! Are you insane? You could drop her!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her body rigid with fear for Isabella's safety.
But Gabriel's hold was steady as he turned and carried them both out of the room toward the master bedroom.
"As long as you stay still, she'll be fine," he replied confidently.
Arabella glared at his jawline. "What's the point of this harassment?"
"I find it quite entertaining."
"You're sick!"
"Maybe I am."
He was beginning to think she was right. Otherwise, why would he do something so ridiculous and undignified?
It was just a divorce, after all.
Didn't Gabriel Sterling have women lining up? Couldn't he find another wife?
So why was he going to such lengths to prevent it, using every trick to keep her?
Maybe he really was sick.
Gabriel carried mother and daughter into the master suite, gently placing them both on the bed. Straightening up, he delivered his ultimatum: "Until we're officially divorced, you're sleeping here."
"You—"
"You know my temperament. The more you fight me, the worse things get for you. But if you keep me happy, maybe I'll grant you your freedom someday."
Arabella's protest died in her throat. She looked up at him, seeming to seriously weigh the truth of his words.
Did she really need to humor him before he'd agree to divorce?
What kind of marriage was this?
"I'm going to shower. If you're not here when I come back, that apartment you rented will mysteriously disappear."
There it was again—his favorite crude and simple threat!
Arabella glared at his retreating figure, wishing her gaze could turn into laser beams and burn right through him.
Isabella lay peacefully in her arms, sleeping like an angel, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.
Arabella gently placed her daughter down and traced her soft, delicate cheek with one finger. Despite everything, her lips curved into an involuntary smile.