Taming the Bitch (COMPLETED)

Chapter XXXVII - SEND MY LOVE

His arms rested along the curve of her back and shoulder as they stood before her father's coffin. Vincent could feel Gabrielle's weakness as though it seeped into his own veins. He held her in a quiet readiness—prepared to catch her should her grief drag her under again. Her tears slipped silently as she stared at her father's now-peaceful face, only for the priest to begin closing the lid, signalling that it was time to let him go.

Vincent pressed her shoulder gently, his other hand moving up and down her smaller back in slow, soothing strokes. People had gathered from all corners of society—powerful families, dignitaries, old friends—to bid farewell to Gabriel Davis. Yet to Vincent, none of them mattered. Only Gabrielle did. And to her, nothing mattered but the shattering loss consuming her whole being.

She had been silent ever since he pulled her from the water the previous night. Silent through her sobs, silent through the condolences that fell uselessly around her. Not a single word—not to him, not to her closest relatives. Only tears... and a grief so heavy it seemed to mute the world itself.

When the coffin was finally lowered into the earth—beside the grave of Julienne Ralph Laurant-Davis—Gabrielle remained rooted to the grass. Even as the soil was shoveled over the beautifully carved wood, even as guests offered pale roses and murmured their last farewells to the heiress, she stood motionless.

At last, Vincent turned her gently toward him. His thumb brushed her warm cheek, then he folded her into his chest. She collapsed against him without resistance, letting her grief pour freely—every tear a piece of her broken soul.

"I'm here, love..." he whispered, tightening his hold around her fragile form. She didn't lift her arms. She simply leaned into him, drained of every reserve, letting him shield her from the world she could no longer face.

He cupped her face, searching her eyes with a desperation he tried to hide.

"You'll be all right," he murmured. "I'm here. Just talk to me... please."

Her lips trembled, but no sound came. It was as though something gripped her throat, choking every word she tried to form.

Then—

"Gabby..."

Not Vincent's voice.

Her eyes cracked open, looking past him.

Standing there was the only other man who understood her.
The man she had wounded deeply, in ways she could never repay.

Adrijan Thorne.

"A... Ade..." The whisper was hoarse, barely a breath—yet it hit Vincent like a blow. Her first word in days... and it wasn't his name.

Vincent turned, meeting the sharp green eyes of her former lover—her closest friend. Then Gabrielle's expression softened at the sight of Adrijan, almost pleading.

"Gab..." Adrijan said gently before stepping forward.

Before Vincent could speak, the other man dismissed him entirely and pulled Gabrielle into his arms as though Vincent were invisible.

"I'm here, munchkin," Adrijan murmured, holding her tightly. "I'm so sorry."

Vincent's jaw clenched as Gabrielle clung to him—speaking, finally speaking.

"He hid everything, Ade..." she cried. "He suffered alone. I didn't know—I should've known—this is all my fault!"

"None of this is your doing," Adrijan replied, his voice breaking. "Your father kept it from you to spare you pain. Don't turn your grief against yourself."

She sobbed harder, clutching his shirt.
Vincent's heart twisted painfully—she had not said a single word to him... but to Adrijan, her voice flowed like a river.

"Why do I keep losing everyone I love?" she cried. "Why?"

Adrijan held her tighter.
Vincent could only watch.

He could have grabbed her back. He could have struck the man. Another time, he would have. But hearing her speak at last—he could not bring himself to interrupt. So he turned away, walking slowly, swallowing the jagged ache tearing him apart.

Later that night—chaos erupted again.

"What happened to my wife?!" Vincent roared, seeing Adrijan carrying Gabrielle up the grand staircase in his arms, her body limp, the scent of alcohol clinging to her.

"What did you do?!" Vincent seized his collar, fury blazing.

"You're going to hit me now? With Gabby in my arms?" Adrijan snapped, pushing past him and heading toward her suite. Vincent followed, steps heavy with rage.

Once Adrijan laid her on the bed, Vincent lost control and struck him hard across the face. Blood bloomed instantly.

Adrijan punched him back with equal force.

Vincent grabbed him, ready to swing again—
"V-Vince..." Gabrielle whispered weakly behind him.

Everything in him stilled.

He turned, finding her awake, tears trembling at her lashes. The rage left him instantly.

"I'm here, darling..." he murmured, joining her on the bed, brushing her hair back with trembling tenderness.

"It's cold..." she whimpered, hugging herself. He removed his shoes and slid beside her, drawing her to his chest.

"If you do this again, I'll take you straight back to the hospital," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"Just hold me... Vince..." she sobbed.

"Always," he breathed.

Adrijan's voice cut through the moment.

"If you ever hurt Gabrielle, Walton, I'll end you."

Vincent glared back. "Mind your own business. She doesn't need you anymore."

"Make me," Adrijan retorted. "If you make her suffer again, I swear I won't hesitate."

Vincent clutched Gabrielle closer. "I love her. More than anything. That's all you need to know."

Adrijan's expression softened—not for Vincent, but for Gabrielle.

"Gabrielle is fragile," he said quietly. "If you're only using her... I'll know."

He turned to leave.

"Thank you," Vincent said suddenly.

Adrijan paused.

"For coming. For making her speak. For bringing her back."

Adrijan exhaled, wiping the blood from his nose. "Take care of her, Walton. She called your name when she passed out. Don't forget that."

When he was finally gone, Vincent held Gabrielle closer, brushing a kiss against her hair.

She had cried for Adrijan...
But she had clung to him.
Called his name.

And he would not let her go. Not now—not ever.