Chapter 126
Isabella's POV
Gabriel's gaze slowly lowered, landing on my abdomen. His Adam's apple bobbed once, his lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Hospital," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "Right now."
He scooped me up in one motion, his movements careful, like holding fragile porcelain. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, hearing him tell Quincy, "Clean this up. Send me the confession transcript. Continue the interrogation, but don't let him die."
"Yes, sir." Quincy's voice couldn't hide his shock.
Gabriel carried me quickly out of the interrogation room, through the underground corridor, and within minutes we were sitting in the back seat of his armored car, the vehicle already started and merging into the afternoon traffic.
I rested my head on Gabriel's shoulder, closing my eyes. His urgent footsteps had become the rumble of the engine, but I could still hear his heartbeat, along with his lowered voice giving orders to his subordinates: "Private hospital. Have the best obstetrician on standby."
As the elevator in the hospital parking garage rose, I opened my eyes to see the taut lines of Gabriel's profile. The muscle in his jaw twitched slightly, his gaze focused intently on the elevator floor numbers, as if looking at me even once more would make me disappear.
"Gabriel," I called softly.
He looked down, his green eyes meeting my gaze.
"If I really am pregnant..." I paused. "Would you be happy?"
He didn't answer immediately. The elevator doors opened, and he carried me into the underground garage, only setting me in the back seat and fastening my seatbelt before leaning down to rest his forehead against mine.
"I don't know," his voice was very soft, carrying a vulnerability I'd never heard before. "I never thought... that I would have a child."
The car started, pulling out of the garage. The sunlight outside was blinding. I squinted, my hand unconsciously moving to rest on my lower abdomen.
Perhaps there was nothing there at all.
Perhaps there was a tiny life, quietly taking root and sprouting.
The journey to the hospital felt both endless and too brief, the city blurring past the tinted windows, my hand remaining pressed to my abdomen the entire time, Gabriel's grip on my other hand never loosening.
The obstetrics examination room at the private hospital was warmer than I'd imagined. Pale pink curtains hung on the walls, stuffed animals sat in the corner, and the air carried the scent of lavender, completely unlike the cold, disinfectant-filled underground medical rooms Gabriel controlled.
I lay on the examination table, the cold ultrasound probe moving across my lower abdomen. The doctor—a woman in her fifties wearing gold-rimmed glasses—focused intently on the screen, occasionally adjusting the probe's angle, her expression gentle and professional.
Gabriel stood beside the bed, one hand gripping mine tightly, the other hovering in mid-air as if wanting to touch my stomach but not daring to, his fingers trembling slightly, a thin layer of sweat forming on his palm.
The screen showed blurry black and white images. I couldn't understand those jumping lights and lines, could only judge from the doctor's slightly upturned lips—it probably wasn't bad news.
"Congratulations," the doctor finally spoke, turning her chair to face us. "You are indeed pregnant, about five weeks along."
Five weeks.
My brain went blank, hearing only the sound of my own heartbeat exploding in my ears.
Gabriel's fingers suddenly tightened, nearly crushing my hand. I looked up to see his face had gone pale, his green eyes wide, staring fixedly at that tiny, barely visible dark spot on the screen.
"This is..." his voice was hoarse like sandpaper scraping.
"The embryo," the doctor pointed to a spot on the screen. "See here? This is your baby. Still very small, about the size of a sesame seed, but the heartbeat has already started."
She turned up the volume, and suddenly the examination room filled with a rapid, powerful "thump-thump-thump"—like drumbeats, like hoofbeats, like life's most primal declaration.
Tears spilled from my eyes without warning.
Not from sadness, not from fear, but from an indescribable sense of awe. That sound was so faint yet so determined, as if announcing "I am here, I exist, I will survive."
Gabriel released my hand, trembling as he reached toward my lower abdomen. His palm hovered a few centimeters above my clothes, hesitating for a long time before gently settling down. Through the thin fabric, his palm was warm, carrying a careful reverence.
"Our child," he murmured, his voice full of disbelief. "We're going to have a child."
The doctor smiled and handed me a tissue to wipe the coupling gel from my stomach, beginning to explain precautions—take folic acid, avoid strenuous exercise, regular prenatal checkups, don't come into contact with toxic substances...
I listened, but felt like these words were coming from very far away. All my attention was focused on Gabriel's face—his eyes were rimmed with red, his jaw clenched tight, his Adam's apple rolling continuously, as if desperately suppressing some emotion.
"Any other questions?" the doctor asked.
I opened my mouth but found my mind in complete chaos. There were too many questions I wanted to ask, yet I didn't know where to begin.
The doctor tactfully left the examination room, gently closing the door, that soft sound seeming to seal us into a world that belonged only to us.
Only Gabriel and I remained in the room.
He still stood rigidly, his green eyes fixed on my lower abdomen, as if seeing this part of me for the first time. His Adam's apple rolled several times, his lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Gabriel?" I called softly.
He startled as if waking, jerking his head up to look at me. Those normally calm, sharp eyes were now bloodshot, rimmed with red, carrying an almost fragile bewilderment.
"Our child," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "We're... going to have a child."
He trembled as he reached toward my lower abdomen, his palm hovering a few centimeters away, hesitating for a long time before gently settling down. Through the fabric, his palm was warm, carrying reverence.
I reached out to cover the back of his hand, our fingers intertwining. His fingers tightened, nearly crushing mine, but I didn't pull away.
"But with the current crisis..." my voice trembled slightly, long-suppressed worry finally finding an outlet. "Marcus is still out there, he could at any moment—"
"I will eliminate him before the baby is born," Gabriel interrupted me, his voice firm as an oath. He looked up, his green eyes burning with the determination I knew so well. "I will give the baby a safe environment to be born into. I won't let our baby come into this world in fear."
His palm gently caressed my lower abdomen, his movements tender in a way unlike him. "If it's a girl..." his voice suddenly became even softer, "I'll make her the most dazzling jewel in the entire underworld. Make everyone kneel before her throne, no one will dare hurt her, no one will dare look down on her."
"We'll protect the baby together," I said.
Gabriel leaned down and kissed my forehead, then kissed my lips, and finally carefully kissed my lower abdomen—through my clothes, that kiss was as light as a feather.
Sunlight streamed through the pink curtains, gilding his profile with a soft glow.
In this moment, the gang leader Gabriel was no longer cold, no longer dangerous, just a man about to become a father, carrying vulnerability, carrying hope, carrying the purest love for new life.