Chapter 85 Chapter Eighty Five

Chapter 85 Chapter Eighty Five
Cesar felt strange as he alighted from the car, then reached out his hand to help Ellie out. Something's off. He couldn't place it, but the feeling had been sitting in his chest since they left the house. 

He was being watched — he was almost sure of it. He looked around the parking lot, scanning the rows of cars, the hospital entrance, the pedestrians coming and going. Nothing. No one paying them any particular attention. He exhaled, chalking it up to nerves.

He smiled at Ellie, tucking the unease away for later, and they walked into the hospital together. The elevator ride to the second floor was quiet, Ellie's hand warm in his, and they made their way to the nurse's station.

"Good morning sir, ma'am." The nurse greeted them, smiling widely. "Dr Quinn will see you now." She gestured for them to go ahead.

"Thank you, Sharona." Ellie smiled. "How's Nathan?"

"He's good."

They walked to the doctor's office, knocked on the door, and when they heard Dr Quinn's response for them to come in, they opened the door and walked in.

"Oh, Mr and Mrs Sandoval, good morning." Dr Quinn stood up to shake their hands, then gestured for them to sit, which they did.

"Morning." They responded.

"How are you feeling today, Mrs Sandoval?" Dr Quinn inquired.

"Good." Ellie replied. She meant it, mostly. A little tired, a little off her food some mornings, but nothing she'd thought worth mentioning until the doctor asked outright.

After Ellie's blood and urine had been taken for testing, they waited for the doctor to return. She didn't make them wait long — she walked back into the room with a smile already on her face, and something about that smile made Cesar sit up a little straighter.

"Congratulations, Mrs Sandoval." Dr Quinn beamed at her. "You're pregnant."

"Really?" She'd taken two home tests already and told herself not to trust either one — those things were wrong all the time, weren't they?

"Really." Dr Quinn smiled. "You're about six weeks pregnant."

Ellie's hand found Cesar's without her quite deciding to reach for it. Beside her, Cesar sat very still, the words taking a moment to land.

"Can we... see the baby now?" Cesar asked.

"Sure, of course." Dr Quinn nodded. "Come with me please."

Cesar and Ellie followed her out of the office to the ultrasound room, where a woman was waiting. Dr Quinn introduced her as the sonographer who'd be performing the scan, and they all shook hands before Dr Quinn left them to it.

"Are you ready to see your baby?" The woman smiled at Ellie.

"Yes." She beamed, and Cesar felt his own chest tighten at the sound of it — your baby. Still strange, still new, still impossible to fully hold in his hands yet.

The sonographer told her to lie down on the bed and raise her shirt, which she did. She rubbed something cold on her stomach — Ellie flinched slightly at the temperature — and placed the transducer against her skin, moving it slowly, eyes on the monitor.

All Ellie and Cesar could see was a shifting field of gray and black, shapes that meant nothing to either of them. They waited, neither one saying anything, both watching the screen like it might rearrange itself into something they could recognize.

"Ah, there it is." The sonographer smiled and pointed to the screen. "Right here." She tapped it.

Cesar leaned in. That's it? That's... He couldn't see arms, couldn't see legs, nothing that looked like a person yet. Just a small, curled shape no bigger than a grain of rice. 

And somehow that was the part that got him — how something that small could already be theirs.

"Peanut." Ellie beamed.

Cesar grinned at her. "Peanut."

The sonographer gave them an estimated due date, printed out the sonogram, and handed it to them.

"Congratulations." She smiled.

"Thank you." They smiled back and left the room, Ellie already holding the printout like it might disappear if she loosened her grip.

"Peanut is so cute." Ellie cooed, studying the smudged little image. "Isn't she?"

"She?" Cesar raised a brow. "Peanut, my dear, is a he. I told you — he's going to marry Danie." He said it with the easy certainty of a man who'd apparently already planned out the wedding.

"That is still up for discussion." She said,

"Wanna bet?" He challenged, that familiar spark of mischief lighting his eyes — the one Ellie had come to know meant he'd already decided he was right.

"How much?" She asked, arms crossing, though the corner of her mouth was already fighting a smile.

"I'll buy you... your own private jet if it's a girl." He said.

"I don't want a jet." She shook her head. He always goes big. As if I'd want anything more than what we already have.

"An island then?"

"Hmmn…" Ellie tapped her chin thoughtfully and smiled, drawing the moment out just to watch him squirm a little. "I don't want an island either."

"Seriously?" He stared at her in disbelief. No jet, no island — what is she up to?

"We'll have a girl." She told him. "And if we do... you'll let me touch you."

Cesar opened his mouth to protest but shut it when she shook her head. There was no winning that look — he knew it from experience.

"Okay fine." He grunted. "You don't fight fair."

"All is fair in love and war." She smiled cheekily at him, quite pleased with herself.

"You're lucky I love you."

Ellie giggled, the sound easy and warm, and for a moment the strange unsettled feeling that had trailed Cesar all morning seemed to lift.

"So you can be happy after you ruined my daughter's life, Sandoval?" An angry, bitter voice questioned.

Cesar and Ellie turned at the voice and were surprised to see Monica standing there. They were at the hospital's pharmacy getting Ellie's drugs — the last place either of them expected a confrontation.

"Monica? Hi." Cesar greeted, caught off guard. "What are you on about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Monica said through gritted teeth.

"I don't." Cesar shook his head, genuinely baffled. What is she accusing me of now?

"My daughter is paralyzed and mute." Monica spat. "All because of you."

"Me?!" Cesar's eyes widened in shock. Paralyzed? Mute? What does that have to do with me? "Monica, be sure of what you're saying before you accuse me. I'd never do such a thing to Annie."

"Ma'am, I'd refrain from accusing my husband if I were you." Ellie told her, stepping slightly forward, protective instinct rising fast. "Whatever you're accusing my husband of is not true."

"Shut up you slut." Monica snapped. "You ruined my daughter's life by humiliating her! There's really nothing new under the sun you know? She got naked in front of your husband! Big deal!"

"Oh now I see where she got her slutty attitude from." Ellie sneered, refusing to back down an inch. "You cheated on your husband with another man, did you not? So your daughter took after you."

"How dare you?!" Monica tried to hit her, but her hand never made contact with Ellie's face.

"That will be a very grave mistake, Monica." Cesar growled, catching her wrist before releasing it just as quickly, disgust flickering across his face. "It'll be in your own interest as well to stop accusing me of something I don't know about."

"You don't intimidate me, Sandoval." Her voice shook, betraying the very thing she denied.

"Then don't push me." Cesar said, his tone flat and final. "Karma is a bitch Monica, I'm sure you know that. Maybe she offended someone and the person decided to get back at her." He shrugged, unbothered.

Monica glared venomously at him and Ellie, then turned and flounced off, her heels clicking sharply against the tile.

"Now I see where she got her craziness from." Ellie tutted, shaking her head as she watched Monica go.

Cesar paid for the drugs and they left the hospital, the earlier lightness between them dimmed somewhat by the encounter.

"So... Antoinette's really... paralyzed and mute?" Ellie asked Cesar once they were outside, the question sitting uneasily with her.

"It would seem so." He said, his voice quieter now. 

"Although I don't like her, I'd never wish that on her." Ellie said, and she meant it — there was a difference between disliking someone and wanting them broken.

Cesar said nothing, just squeezed her hand, grateful — not for the first time — that she saw the world with more grace than most people bothered to.
\~~~~~~~~
Dante Silvestro glared at the pictures in his hand, wishing they'd just catch fire and burn up in his palm. Years of quiet, simmering hatred had narrowed down to this — these faces, these names. 

He hated them, all of them, and he was going to have his revenge... especially on Arya freaking Gomez. Of everyone who'd wronged him, she topped the list, and nothing was going to change that now.

"Boss... there's someone here to see you."

Dante looked up at his right-hand man and flung the pictures away, scattering them across the floor like he couldn't stand to hold them a second longer.

"Who?" He scowled.

"Senator Nash."

"Let her in."

Cassandra Nash sashayed into the office and dropped her bag on the table, then crossed her arms — every inch the woman who was used to getting exactly what she came for.

"Took you years to get here." She grumbled.

"I'm here now, aren't I? What do you want?" He rumbled, unbothered by her impatience.

"I want Cesari Sandoval dead. No, make that his entire family." She corrected, the venom in her voice unmistakable.

"Why?" He asked.

"He broke my niece's heart and his wife…" She clenched her hands into tight fists, the memory clearly still raw. "I want all of them dead."

"It's gonna cost you." He drawled, entirely unmoved by her fury.

"Name any price and it's yours." Cassie said, without a moment's hesitation.

Dante stared intently at her, something calculating behind his eyes. "I thought you tried to get with Sandoval?" He asked in a bored voice. "He let you down and now you want to get even?"

"That was a mistake. I wasn't in my right mind." She snapped, clearly not appreciating the reminder. "It really is none of your business. Just do your job."

"Whatever." He muttered, already losing interest in her reasons.

"You need to shave. You look like a chimpanzee." She eyed him with disgust.

"And you need to stop with the plastic surgeries. Get old naturally." He retorted, not missing a beat.

Cassandra let out a mortified gasp, her eyes narrowing into slits. Clearly no one spoke to her that way and lived to repeat it — except, apparently, Dante Silvestro.

"You're evil." She said,

Dante sent her a fake smile and waved her away, entirely indifferent to the insult. He didn't care about her hurt feelings any more than he cared why she wanted the richest man alive dead. 

His job was simple: collect payment, get the job done. Everything else was noise.

Cassandra picked up her bag, glared at him, then stormed out, her heels striking the floor with every ounce of her wounded pride.

"Pest." He muttered, already dismissing her from his mind.

He picked up Arya's photo from the floor and flicked her forehead, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face — the smile of a man who'd waited a long time for this moment and had no intention of rushing it now.

"You're finally going down, Arya." He said. "You've lived long enough. You and your worthless family. Have fun while it lasts.”