Taming the Bitch (COMPLETED)

Chapter XXXIV - BABY TALK

"Congratulations!" Vincent sweeps Gabrielle into a tight bear hug the moment the doctor removes the IV from the back of her hand. After almost a week of confinement, the relief in his voice is impossible to miss. They've been through a rough stretch—she was sick, he was angry, and somewhere in that mess... something between them shifted.

Love?
No. Too soon. At least, that's what Gabby keeps telling herself. She's been trying not to think about it—not to feel the flutter she gets whenever Vincent steals a kiss or pulls her into one of his possessive embraces. But the truth is stubborn. And the truth is... she's starting to fall for him.

"I... c-can't breathe..." she protests weakly, her hands pushing at him but not really. Because she doesn't want him to let go. Not yet. Not ever—no, no, she shouldn't think like that.

Playing hard to get. Yes. That's the safe narrative.

"Sorry," he murmurs with a grin, though he doesn't immediately release her. "I'm just excited you're no longer sick." He kisses her nose, and she automatically smiles—then hides it instantly as he pulls back.

She clears her throat and turns to the doctor and nurse who have patiently taken care of her.

"I want to say thank you... for putting up with me."

They smile warmly, and she reaches out to shake the nurse's hand.

"And thank you... for putting some sense into my head."

"Anytime, Mrs.—" he smirks, "—Dr. Walton."

"I'm no longer a doctor," she sighs. "Just call me Gab."

"You'll always be a doctor. License or not—your heart for the children at the orphanage says everything," he replies. Gabby's gaze drops to the floor.

The doctor adds gently, "We'd love to have you here as a resident doctor someday, Dr. Walton." He pats her shoulder.

Gabby smiles sadly. She would love to wear her surgical gown again. But that life... her father made sure it was out of reach.

Vincent notices the shadow crossing her expression and the tears gathering in her eyes. He doesn't say anything—he simply pulls her closer and kisses her temple.

"Thank you for everything," she whispers, voice shaking. "For taking care of me... and for my—" she stops, almost saying husband. She only ever calls him that when he's not around—ridiculous, but she refuses to inflate his ego. Not yet.

"You're most welcome," the doctor says, smiling at Vincent. "But honestly? It was your husband who really saved you." He nods toward Vincent.

Gabby looks at Vincent—who, of course, is smirking, proudly presenting the still-bruised spot on his arm.

"It still hurts..." he whispers dramatically.

"Oh, please," she mutters, fighting a smile.

"I also feel weak sometimes..." he adds theatrically, placing the back of his hand on his forehead. The doctor and nurse chuckle.

"I'll give the blood back to you then." She flicks his forehead.

"Nah," he whispers, leaning in. "Just keep me strong with a kiss." And before she can react, he steals a quick kiss.

She hides her face in her palms as their audience giggles.

"We'll leave you now. Your bodyguard has the discharge papers," the doctor says before exiting.

Vincent brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Ready?"

She nods, looking around the room that had been her home for the past week. Being a patient wasn't so bad—not when it brought them closer like this.

· · ·

By the time they arrive at the hotel, the top management is waiting to welcome them. They escort Gabrielle and Vincent back to their suite—where the real surprise is waiting.

The moment the door opens, a chorus of cheers and giggles erupts. Dozens of children—her children—fill the room.

"Oh my God..." she gasps, knees hitting the carpet as the children rush into her arms. She hugs them one by one, heart swelling.

Then Victor appears—her favorite little boy—and the director sets him down. He runs straight into her arms, and she lifts him up, kissing his cheeks repeatedly.

"I missed you," she whispers, eyes brimming with tears. "I missed all of you."

"The children have been asking for you every day," the director says. "So when Mr. Walton invited us, we couldn't refuse. Thank you—for loving them, for protecting them."

"Thank you, Mommy Gabby and Daddy Vince!" the children shout.

Gabrielle freezes. Tears fall. She's never felt this loved, this appreciated. Not until now. Not until Vincent's eyes meet hers—filled with pride and something that looks a lot like love.

Without thinking, she reaches for his face, thumb brushing his cheekbone, and pulls him into a tender kiss. It surprises him, it surprises her, and the children erupt into applause.

"Thank you, Vince," she whispers.

"I'll do anything for you, my love," he murmurs before kissing her again.

· · ·

"How do you do that?" Vincent whispers hours later as he climbs into bed beside her. Victor is asleep between them, finally calm.

"Do what?" she asks softly.

"Make him stop crying? Put him to sleep?"

She smiles. "When you understand what someone needs, it's easy to comfort them. Babies just require patience."

He kisses her bare shoulder. "You're a natural mom. Have you always loved children?"

"I grew up alone. I guess that made me crave... family. So yes."

He nods. "I feel the same. I've always dreamed of having a big family. Five kids."

"Five?!" she blurts, forgetting they have a sleeping toddler beside them.

"Well..." He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. His hand trails lightly along her thigh—soft enough to make her tense. Vincent has been getting bolder. Touchier. And every time, her body reacts before her brain can intervene.

"I actually wanted six," he adds mischievously. "To form a basketball team."

She chokes. "You'll turn your wife into a baby factory!"

"That won't happen. You'd still look like a baby even after giving birth." He kisses her neck, making her tense again.

She quickly pulls away, lying on her side with her back to him—shielding herself with Victor's tiny body like he's a protective talisman.

"I—I'm tired," she lies.

He touches her shoulder gently. "Hey. Don't feel pressured."

She freezes.

"I told you, I'll wait," he murmurs. "When you're ready."

He kisses the side of her head. "Goodnight, love."

He understands her. He knows her walls are high, built from hurt and fear. But he also sees the cracks forming—small openings where her true feelings peek through.

She will come around. He's certain.

Because as she said...
When you know what a person needs, it's not hard to stop their tears.

And Vincent knows exactly what she needs.
And he will give it to her—patiently, fully, endlessly.

Love.