Sleek black cars glided silently along the long driveway, their engines humming a gentle, steady tune beneath the soft glow of the evening light. As the convoy approached the grand porte-cochère of Gabriel and Isla’s stately home, the vehicles gradually slowed, pulling up one by one in a precise, orderly fashion. Doors opened smoothly, releasing their passengers into the cool air.

Stone was the first to step out, swiftly moving to open the back door. Gabriel followed, stepping down with a quiet grace, immediately turning to assist Isla. His hand found hers and held it firmly, a silent promise of protection and comfort in the midst of the heavy atmosphere.

Without waiting for the others, Gabriel gently steered Isla toward the entrance. The massive marble doors of the foyer swung open, revealing Magdalene and the household staff standing ready, their faces composed yet somber.

“Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham,” they said in unison, bowing slightly in respectful greeting.

Isla managed a faint, fragile smile, but inside, her heart remained weighed down by an unshakable heaviness.

Behind them, Diana and Charles stepped out of their car, followed closely by Betty and Maya. From John’s vehicle came Sofie and Betsy, while Landon arrived with Sia and Mia. All were dressed modestly, their faces etched with quiet sadness, reflecting the sorrow that hung thickly in the air.

Everyone was present. Everyone except Anna and Wyatt.

Together, they entered the mansion. Despite the lingering grief, the grandeur and beauty of the home still caught their eyes, a bittersweet reminder of what should have been a day filled with joy.

This was meant to be a celebration—a day to toast their new beginning with laughter and champagne. Instead, fate had woven sorrow into the fabric of the evening, turning it into a moment heavy with loss.

Magdalene led the group into the expansive drawing room. The space was vast and elegant, designed to comfortably seat two dozen guests. The scent of polished wood mingled with the fragrance of fresh roses, filling the room with a subtle, calming aroma. Chairs trimmed in gold formed a circle around the room, and refreshments had already been laid out, ready for the guests.

Yet Gabriel and Isla did not linger. Quietly excusing themselves, they retreated upstairs to their private suite, seeking solace away from the gathering.

Inside the bedroom, Gabriel turned toward Isla and gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Rest for a moment,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll fill the tub for you. You should take a bath.”

He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, and moments later, the soothing sound of running water filled the suite.

Isla remained seated briefly, gathering her thoughts, before rising with slow but determined steps. She moved toward the walk-in closet, the soft carpet muffling her footsteps. Opening a drawer, she carefully placed her phone inside—a lifeline, the only piece of evidence left to prove the truth she clung to. She wasn’t ready to lose it yet, not before securing the recording safely.

With that done, she made her way to the bathroom.

The warm, inviting scent of soap drifted from the steaming tub. Gabriel knelt beside it, testing the water with his hand. Hearing her approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. Updates are released by fіndnovel.net

Without exchanging words, Isla began to undress. She removed her blouse, then her skirt, and finally her delicate undergarments, each piece falling silently to the cold marble floor. Her body trembled faintly—not from the chill, but from the weight of all she carried.

Gabriel rose and stepped closer, his gaze lingering on her—not with desire, but with a deep, aching tenderness. Carefully, he reached for the clasp of her bra, helping her free herself. His fingers brushed against her bare skin with gentle reverence, as if afraid to cause her any pain.

Isla did not pull away. She allowed his help, knowing that even amidst her suffering, she needed him. And she understood he was hurting too—perhaps even more than he let show.

Once she was completely bare, Gabriel took a slow, steady breath. His eyes traced the gentle curves of her body, the soft swell of her breasts.

He exhaled sharply, blinking away the flood of emotions. “Come,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady.

His hand slid around her lower back, while the other found hers. “Step in slowly,” he whispered. “The water’s warm. Just relax.”

Isla obeyed, lifting one leg, then the other, sinking carefully into the tub. The water rose around her, its warmth soothing her chilled skin.

Gabriel remained still for a moment, his hand resting on her shoulder longer than necessary, steadying her.

“Won’t you join me?” Isla asked softly, glancing back at him. “You need this too. Come in.”

He hesitated only briefly before beginning to undress, his clothes falling quietly to the marble floor.

Climbing into the tub behind her, the water shifted slightly. Isla leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes as his strong arms wrapped protectively around her.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause.

“This is better,” she whispered after a long silence.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair. “It is.”

The warmth, the closeness, the steady rhythm of their breathing—it was the first peace they had felt since the tragedy.

Gabriel’s hand moved slowly over her stomach, tracing small, gentle circles where life had once blossomed. His touch was tender, almost apologetic. Isla placed her hand over his, pressing it gently.

They sat together in silence for a long while—two broken hearts beating in unison, enveloped by steam and quiet.

Finally, Gabriel spoke, his voice soft but resolute. “Let’s try for another baby,” he said. “After a week. Once you’re strong enough.”

Isla’s heart skipped a beat.

He continued, “Dr. Matt said we have a good chance if we don’t wait too long.”

For a moment, she remained silent. Then, turning her head slightly toward him, the sadness in her eyes softened.

“Let’s do that,” she whispered. “But only after we give our child the justice they deserve.”

Gabriel exhaled deeply, his lips brushing the side of her neck. His voice dropped lower, steady and sure. “Yes,” he said. “We’ll do that too.”

His hand rose again, sliding upward to her breasts. His fingers grazed softly against her nipples. He cupped her gently, a quiet reminder that she belonged to him.

Isla closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely into the warm water. It didn’t matter if he saw them. In his arms, she felt safe—finally, truly safe.

Florence

Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.