Chapter Text
The rain fell softly on the estate, muffled by the thick glass walls of Jordan Vellian’s penthouse. Inside, the air was still, too still. The fire crackled in the marble hearth, yet the warmth didn’t reach the far end of the room, where Gabriel stood trembling with a silver tray in hand.
He didn’t speak. He never did unless spoken to.
His cheeks were hollow, dark circles clinging under his eyes like bruises, and one hand occasionally drifted to his distended stomach, round, taut, and far too heavy for his frail frame. His breathing was shallow. Labored. But he stayed upright. Jordan hated weakness.
“Slouching again,” Jordan muttered, not bothering to look up from the decanter he was polishing. “Disgusting posture.”
Gabriel straightened immediately, swallowing the bile in his throat. The movement made him dizzy, and he swayed. The tray slipped slightly in his grip, but he caught it..barely.
“You’re sick,” Jordan said finally, looking at him now with a cold, sharp gaze that held no concern, only calculation. “Figures. You’re always falling apart when it’s least convenient.”
“I—I can still work, sir,” Gabriel whispered, voice hoarse. “Please.”
Jordan took a slow sip of wine, savoring it like he did control. “Of course you can. You’ve survived worse. Don’t forget who gave you that roof over your head. Or who allowed this...” His eyes flicked to Gabriel’s stomach, “...to happen at all.”
Gabriel looked down, ashamed of the life growing inside him. He never asked for it. Never wanted it. It had been a decision made for him. A silent sentence. A cruel twist of biology and power.
Jordan, unmoved, continued: “Once you give birth, I’ll send it off. I don’t have time for screaming infants in this house.”
Gabriel’s heart clenched. He didn’t even know if he wanted to keep it but the thought of it being taken so indifferently made his throat burn. “Please, sir... may I see it? Just once?”
Jordan laughed. “You think you deserve anything? You’re here because you’re quiet, because you obey. That’s your only value.”
Gabriel said nothing. He couldn't afford defiance.
He remained standing long after Jordan left the room, tray still in his hands, his knees trembling beneath the weight of his body and his unborn child. He didn’t cry. There was no one to comfort him if he did.
And yet, despite it all, in the cold silence of the mansion, he whispered to the life inside him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know if you’ll ever be free. But I’ll carry you as long as I can.”
The fire crackled behind him. Somewhere in the house, Jordan’s footsteps echoed slow, purposeful, merciless.
And Gabriel remained in place. Quiet. Alone. Obedient.