Taming the Bitch (COMPLETED)

Chapter LI - LITER OF TEARS

"Dada..." Gabrielle sobbed, watching her daughter lean her head between Vincent's neck and shoulder, just as she used to. She trembled with so many emotions as she looked at her daughter's happy, hopeful face.

"Wew 'ave you been, dada?" Her small palm rested on Vincent's shoulder. He kissed her forehead, eyes closing briefly at the question. How could he answer, when the truth was that he had endured hell without her and her mother?

"Dada...? Do you wove Nic...?" she asked again. Vincent touched her cheek, and she lifted her face to meet his.

"I love you, Nic... with all of me. I'm so sorry I wasn't there," he said, touching her small nose with his before glancing at Gabrielle, whose eyes were full of sorrow.

"Do you wove Mommy too...?" Veronica yawned, still staring at her father, awaiting his answer.

Gabrielle's eyes flared with accusation, and she snatched her daughter from him. Vincent hesitated, unwilling to release her. Like a tug of war, they pulled on the innocent child, who merely frowned, rubbed her eyes, and yawned, unaware of the storm of emotions between her parents. Vincent wanted Nic in his arms forever.

She was, after all, his one and only daughter.

Gabrielle could no longer bear to see her daughter in this man's embrace. That was the last thing she wished to witness.

"Let go..." she said through gritted teeth, casting a concerned glance at Nic, who yawned again.

Carefully, Vincent handed her daughter back to Gabrielle.

"Mom... will Dada stay with us...?" Her head rested on Gabrielle's shoulder as she whispered. Gabrielle looked at Vincent, eyes full of pain.

"He is very busy per—" she began, only to be cut off by Vincent, who refused to let her words continue.

"I will stay... I'll never leave you again, my love," he said. Gabrielle glared, jaws clenched. Veronica lifted her face again, observing both her parents.

"Pinky swear?" she asked, raising her small pinky to him.

Indeed, she was so like Gabrielle that Vincent's heart ached, tears stinging his eyes. He imagined all the moments he had missed: Nic's first steps, her first words, the innocent delight of childhood. All of it had been stolen from him—but he vowed never again.

"I swear..." He linked his pinky with hers, reaching to kiss her forehead. Gabrielle's gaze pierced him like daggers, and she held Nic closer as they walked toward the grand staircase.

"Nap time..." she whispered coldly, resting her daughter's head on her shoulder.

Vincent, left alone downstairs, could only sob. Anger, pain, and regret surged through him, forcing him to punch the door in frustration. He breathed deeply, composing himself, before following them upstairs, taking half an hour to steady himself amidst the revelations.

He twisted the doorknob silently and stepped into the suite. Gabrielle's back faced him as she lay sideways on the large round bed in the rose-and-gold painted room. The suite exuded timeless luxury—Gabrielle's classic taste reflected in every detail, from furniture to wallpaper. Veronica deserved every ounce of this life.

He approached quietly, observing his daughter. Nic's head rested on Gabrielle's arm, nursing as Gabrielle held her close, eyes closed, sobbing intermittently. Vincent watched, captivated, wishing he could be part of this moment—not as an intruder, but as her father and her husband, sharing in their laughter, meals, and quiet nights together.

"We need to talk..." he said, rising from the chair as Gabrielle moved to cover Nic with a blanket. He caught her wrist.

"Gabrielle, we need to talk!" he repeated. She brushed his hand away, glancing at their sleeping daughter before glaring at Vincent and walking toward the library on the opposite side of the châteaux's second floor.

"Why...?" he asked after closing the library door. Gabrielle halted, catching her breath before facing him.

"Why did you do this... why didn't you tell me about my daughter?" His voice was soft, but her anger intensified as he stepped toward her.

"I have every right to know, Gabrielle. Veronica, too, has the right to grow up normally!"

That was the last straw. Gabrielle's bottled-up anger erupted. She slapped him—once, twice, thrice—crying and letting her pain pour out, words cutting through the air like knives.

"Your daughter...?!" she spat, fists against his chest. "Nic is my daughter, Vincent! Medically, yes, you are her father—but she is mine! You are nothing to us!"

Vincent flinched at her words, but he allowed her to continue. He knew she needed to release her trauma.

"Veronica wasn't conceived out of love! You have no right to claim her just because she carries your genes! You forced her existence on me! I got pregnant from your anger and abuse! Not from love!" Her fists shook against his chest, shoulders quivering.

"You raped me..." she whispered, pain etched across her angelic face.

"...And now you want to share my daughter with me? You had her inside me not for love, but for revenge. You wanted to hurt me so badly, tearing my soul and breaking my heart with every accusation, every strike from your hands!" She struck him again, trembling as she confessed the darkness of that night.

"You have every right to know... you said?!" Another slap landed across his chest.

"The right to know what? That you have a daughter with the woman you despised most? You expected me to invite you in, to love and support you while I lived in fear and trauma that night? Nic is my daughter alone! She has your blood, yes, but I have given her all my love, the love I thought I had lost! She made me love again!"

"Bella..." he whispered, grasping her left wrist. He recoiled at the scars, seeing the evidence of her pain—three marks from attempts to end her own life. His tears fell.

"She has the right to live normally...?" she whispered, laughing bitterly as she wrenched her hand from his grip.

"Veronica, this is your father, Vince... he was my ex-husband. You are the result of our hatred. He hated me so much that I became pregnant after he abused me, nearly killing me that night. Now he lives with us, pretending he is a good father while I must pretend I hold no fear or anger. Every time I see him, I remember that night..." Her legs buckled, and she slumped to the floor. Vince caught her arms immediately.

"Is that the normal life you want to give her, Walton?" she asked, helpless. Tears streamed as she shook.

"I've been through hell because of you... Nic is the only light in my life. Don't take her from us," she pleaded.

"You can't just show up and claim everything I love! You must kill me first..."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, unsure how to hold her. He had witnessed the rebuilding of her heart, and he feared shattering it again.

"Sorry isn't enough... but please, Bella... give me a chance. I've been through hell without you, rotting in guilt and anger. Please..." He reached for her hand on the floor, pressing it gently. She looked up at him.

"I cannot undo the past... but we can make things better today and tomorrow... for Nic," he begged, tears falling on her hand.

"Please give us this chance... just one more chance, Bella..." His voice cracked as he pressed on her hand once more. Gabrielle's eyes rolled back, her head falling weakly onto his chest.

"Bella...!" He lifted her, embracing her tightly, and tapped her cheeks gently, coaxing her to wake.

Exhausted, emotionally spent, she had finally released years of anger, fear, and trauma. Vincent held her firmly, whispering, "You don't have to be alone again," as he carried her back to their daughter.

Gently, he placed Gabrielle beside Nic on the bed, unable to tear his gaze from the two of them. This was the life he had always wanted: Gabrielle and their child, together at last.