Chapter 32
THEA
Gabriel continues to stare at me, his hand still pressed against my stomach. His expression is calm and neutral. For a brief moment, I expect him to simply turn and walk away without saying a word.
Instead, his eyes soften in a way I’ve never seen before. Something breaks—the control, the calculation, the composure—it all crumbles.
His hand trembles against me, and a corner of his mouth curls just a bit.
“We made a baby,” he whispers. There’s something in his voice, something like awe. “We made a baby.”
“We did.”
He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving my face. “I… I can’t…” He clears his throat, trying to compose himself. “You’re…”
And then he drops to his knees.
Right there in his study, this powerful, deadly man who commands killers—who is a killer himself—falls to his knees in front of me and presses his face to my stomach. His shoulders shake.
“Dio,” he breathes against the fabric of my dress. “Dio mio.”
I thread my fingers through his hair, and he leans into my touch like I’m an anchor.
“Gabriel,” I say softly, “look at me.”
He lifts his head. His eyes are wet.
“I’m terrified,” he admits.
“I know. Me, too.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Not of Kolya. Not of the danger. I’m terrified that I don’t… that I won’t… that I can’t…” he stops, swallows hard. “That I don’t know how to be a father. That I don’t know how to be good.”
His words do something to me I can’t explain.
“You kept me alive, looked out for me my whole life.” I look down at him; my hands still lost in the thick tangle of his hair. “You protected me, fought for me, brought me to this moment. You’ll figure this out, too.”
“What if I can’t? What if I’m too—what if the violence, the blood on my hands—what if I ruin our child?”
He presses his forehead against my stomach and speaks.
“Mio figlio,” he whispers. “I’m your papa. And I swear on my life that nothing will ever hurt you or your mama.”
Tears form in the corners of my eyes as I take in what I’m seeing, what I’m hearing. This is the man I’m falling in love with. Not the don or the killer. This man.
He lifts his head up.
“Everything is different now.”
“I know.”
“Everything. Not just us. The Bratva. Kolya.” His hand moves over my stomach, protective and possessive. “This is about something bigger than just me or just you. This is about famiglia.”
Family.
The word is almost too hard to process. But that’s what this is, what we’re making. A family.
“I’ll get you doctors.” I can practically see his mind shift into planning and strategizing mode. “The best doctors the city has. Twenty-four-hour monitoring. We need to move you someplace safer, maybe the compound upstate, or—”
“Gabriel.”
“We need to—”
I place my hands over his, then crouch down so we’re at eye level.
“Stop.”
He blinks. “Stop what? I’m just planning.”
“You’re panicking.” I cup his face. “And you’re trying to control everything.”
“Thea, there’s a goddamn bounty on your head. If Kolya finds out you’re pregnant with the heir to both the Fetisov family and mine, he will move heaven and earth to kill you. He won’t keep you to play with you, he will end your life in order to end the heir’s life.”
“Hey.” I lean my forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out. Together. But I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t change everything because of this. Don’t lock me away somewhere even more isolated. Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass.” I pause. “I’m pregnant, not incapable. I need to feel human. This isn’t just your fight now. It’s ours. We take it on together.”
Gabriel is quiet for a long moment as he thinks.
“Okay. You want to see a doctor.”
“Yes.”
“Good. That’s the next move. But Thea, I can’t let you leave. Not now. Not with—” his hand moves to my stomach again. “Not with you carrying our baby. The risk is too great.”
I open my mouth to fire back at him, to tell him that I want my independence, that I have the right to make my own choices.
But just as he needs to come to terms with things, so do I. What’s happening now is bigger than my need to have control. This is about survival—and not just my survival anymore.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “You can bring a doctor here. But I want to pick them. I want to interview them, make sure I’m comfortable.”
He nods without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”
“I want to be involved.”
“Involved?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I want to be in the loop about everything. I’m not going to just sit around and let everyone else make decisions for me.”
He says nothing, letting me continue.
“I know I’m not a master strategist. But this is my life we’re talking about.
My life and now the baby’s. I want to play a part in keeping us safe, beyond just carrying this child to term.
I’m going to be a mother. That means I need to know what kind of world I’m bringing my child into, what kind of threats we’ll be facing. ”
He studies my face, then nods.
“You’re right.”
“I am?” I’m more than a little surprised.
“You’re not just my responsibility anymore. You’re the mother of my child. You’re my partner in all of this.”
The word partner hits a hell of a lot differently than property.
“I want you to be careful,” I tell him.
“Careful?”
“Yes. That means not doing anything stupidly heroic if your protective instincts go off the rails.”
“Those instincts are already going off the rails, sorry to say. It’s taking a lot not to simply lock you in a vault with armed guards all around it. But it’d be a nice vault.”
That gets a laugh out of me. “See? That’s the kind of stuff I’ll need to talk you down from.”
He stands, pulling me up with him, then he wraps his arms around me. He’s careful and gentle, like I might break.
“I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling right now,” he says, his voice low. “So much of this is new. Uncertain. But I want you to know that I’m here for you—you and the baby. No matter what happens.”
My chest tightens with emotion. By the time he’s done speaking, I feel calmer.
Then he kisses me. Soft, reverent, and full of promise. I fall into it, the stress and the danger melting away.
He rests his hand on my stomach again.
“Our family,” he says.
“Our family.”
His phone buzzes on his desk, breaking the spell. The real world hasn’t forgotten about us.
“It can wait,” he says without hesitation.
Part of me doesn’t want to let the moment go. But I tell him to take the call instead.
“The world isn’t going to wait on us.”
“You’re right about that.”
“We’ll talk more tonight.” I place my hand over his on my belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”
He smiles. He kisses me once more, then heads for the desk. I watch him pick up the phone and answer.
“Moretti.”
I give him one last smile before leaving the office. He places his hand on his heart. I get the message.
I leave and make my way back to my room on a cloud, falling on the bed and smiling. So much of what’s happening should scare the hell out of me.
But it doesn’t.
Because I’m ready to fight.