Chapter 163: Bad Blood

Chapter 163: Bad Blood
Luna's POV

I swallowed hard. There was something dangerously hot about the idea of carrying his kid, but... "Yeah," I admitted softly, dodging his intense stare, "but not right now."

Gabriel shifted his weight above me, his face turning thoughtful. "I've finished my birth control cycle. We could just... let things happen naturally."

"Or," I suggested, trailing my fingers along his chest, "we could use condoms."

He groaned like I'd just killed his vibe, burying his face in my neck. "Those things are the worst—zero comfort."

I laughed, giving him a light shove. "Well, tough luck. I'm not ready for kids yet. Maybe in a year or so?" I shot him a pointed look. "Keep popping those pills in the meantime."

Gabriel sighed, clearly bummed but not pushing it. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy." His fingers skimmed my collarbone, sending sparks across my skin. "But when you're ready..."

The heat in his eyes was overwhelming. My face burned, half from his stare, half from the wild thought of being pregnant with his baby. My body felt like it was on fire, and if he stuck around, my willpower would melt faster than ice cream in July.

"You should crash in the guest room tonight," I blurted out.

"Really?" His grin turned wicked as he leaned in closer. "You sure that's what you want?"

"Yeah," I insisted, even though my body was yelling the opposite. "I'm on my period. Not tonight."

Gabriel chuckled, dropping a kiss on my forehead before rolling off the bed. "Night, Luna." He sauntered to the door with that smug smirk still plastered on his face.

I chucked a pillow at his back as he left, then flopped onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Later, alone in the bathroom, I studied my flushed reflection in the mirror.

"Stupid period," I grumbled to myself. "Of all the damn times..."

---

The next day, Gabriel chauffeured us to the Ashford Grounds in his sleek Maybach. As the tires crunched over the gravel driveway, I couldn't help gawking at the massive mansion looming ahead—like something out of a fairy tale gone wrong.

We pulled up to the huge oak doors, and two staff members materialized out of nowhere to swing them open. The whole setup felt stiff and over-the-top, like we were walking into a courtroom.

The second we stepped into the grand foyer, the air turned icy. It opened straight into a dining room big enough for a banquet, with the Ashford crew parked around a table that could seat an army. A lineup of stone-faced relatives stared us down—or more like ignored us. The silence hit like a slap.

There was Barbara, perched stiffly next to Gabriel's dad, Caleb. Across from them sat Julian. And at the head of the table, like some pissed-off king, was Richard Ashford. His scowl screamed disapproval, carving deep lines into his fancy features.

"Gabriel, this is my birthday. Why'd you bring an outsider?" His voice boomed with that old-school authority, like he'd been bossing people around for decades.

My cheeks burned with humiliation. Outsider. Ouch. I'd heard worse, but the way he spat it out—like I was just some fling Gabriel dragged in off the street—made me want to disappear into the fancy rug.

Gabriel just chuckled, unfazed. "Oh, so I'm not an outsider? That's news to me. The way you've been treating me, I figured I'd been kicked out of the Ashford club ages ago." His tone was chill, but I could feel the anger humming off him like electricity. "If I'm in, then my girlfriend's in too—no question."

Barbara hurried over, her perfect hair not budging an inch, whispering frantically, "Gabriel, please, cool it."

"I'm cool as ice," Gabriel shot back, his eyes scanning the room like a predator sizing up prey. The icy calculation in his gaze gave me chills. This was the ruthless CEO Gabriel, not the guy who'd been teasing me in bed last night.

Richard shot up from his chair, face turning red with rage. "Gabriel! You challenging me? Don't forget, I haven't picked the Ashford heir yet!"

Gabriel's laugh was sharp and humorless. "That's your big threat, huh? It didn't work three years ago, and it's not gonna work now."

"You! How dare you!" Richard bellowed, standing tall.

Barbara threw me a desperate glance, like I was supposed to magically fix this mess. Great, now I'm the family therapist in this twisted soap opera.

"Gabriel..." I murmured, touching his arm lightly.

His fingers brushed the back of my hand, soft and reassuring. "I promised no one would disrespect you, and I'm keeping that promise."

My brow creased with worry. "But I'm worried about you."

Gabriel's gaze lingered on me, a quiet promise passing between us in the chaos.

With eerie calm, he nodded to his assistant, Tyler, who stepped up with a sleek metal case. Gabriel pulled out a stack of documents stamped with the Ashford Group's confidential seal.

"The inheritance is mine, and I'm taking it," he declared, his voice slicing through the tension like a knife.

Richard's face softened just a tad, glancing at Julian. "What about poor Julian? The kid deserves a shot."

Gabriel's laugh turned bitter and cold. "Why does a bastard son get the red-carpet treatment in this family, while I'm always getting screwed over?"

The question dropped like a grenade. The room went dead silent, except for the steady tick-tock of an old grandfather clock in the corner, counting down the awkward seconds. Barbara went ghost-white, and Caleb suddenly found his plate fascinating, avoiding all eyes.

Barbara's voice shook. "Gabriel, you already know?"

He patted her shoulder gently. "Mom, starting today, no one's mistreating you anymore."

Then, like a switch flipped, Gabriel's control shattered. He lunged at Julian, his fist smashing into his brother's face with a sickening crack. Chaos exploded—Gabriel whirled on Richard next, fury unleashed.

"You're so damn generous with your bastard grandson, aren't you?" Each word came with another brutal punch to Julian. His voice roared, years of bottled-up rage pouring out. "No wonder he had the balls to plot against me! To go after my woman!"

I froze, heart pounding, torn between horror and a twisted fascination. This side of Gabriel—raw, violent, unfiltered—was terrifying, yet it pulled me in. I'd seen him mad before, but never this unleashed.

Julian crumpled to the floor, blood gushing from his mouth. The room was a whirlwind: Barbara sobbing, Caleb scrambling to hold Gabriel back, Richard standing there stunned, like he'd just seen a ghost.

But Julian looked up, flashing a bloody grin that sent shivers down my spine. "Gabriel..." he rasped, eerily calm. "You finally pieced it together?" His smile stretched wider, blood dripping down his chin. "I do like your woman."