Chapter 96: "She is pregnant".
Noon...
Raphael stepped into the quiet hallway of the Silver Mansion, the faint scent of polished oak and leather guiding him toward the study he knew so well. He had just returned from the hidden safehouse where Scott was being treated, and Maxson had been with him, preparing for their eventual return to the city.
Before coming here, he'd placed a call to his boss. Scott's voice had been calm but sharp, instructing the guards to let him in without delay.
The heavy mahogany door to the study stood half-open. Inside, Scott sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, the glow from the desk lamp catching the hard line of his jaw. He didn't rise-only lifted his gaze, that piercing silver stare fixed on Raphael.
"You're back," Scott said.
"Yes, Boss." Raphael stepped in, shutting the door behind him. "I've checked on everything. The enemies... they're quiet for now. No moves, no signs. But I'm certain they're regrouping. They'll be coming together again soon."
Scott leaned back in his chair, tapping a slow rhythm against the armrest. "Don't worry," he said evenly. "Just keep tracking them. I'll personally meet someone myself." His gaze sharpened. "Keep me updated. Every move, no matter how small."
"Yes, Boss." Raphael gave a curt nod.
Scott's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, as if weighing something unspoken, before returning to the papers on his desk. The low hum of tension remained, a silent understanding between them. The storm hadn't passed-it was simply waiting to break.
~~~~~~~
Just after Raphael left Scott's mansion, Flora had been upstairs for hours, saying she was arranging her clothes and her husband's things.
She was folding the last of the garments when a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Her knees buckled, and she knelt down, pressing a hand to her head.
"Husband... baby... where are you?" she whispered weakly, her voice trembling.
She tried to stand and go look for Scott, but the moment her fingers touched the door handle, her body gave out. She collapsed to the floor.
At that exact moment, Scott was on his way to the room to check on his beautiful wife.
"Baby, are you done-" He pushed the door open mid-sentence. Silence greeted him... then his eyes fell on her lying motionless on the floor.
"Love! Lovey! Lovey! Baby! Baby! Baby!" His voice cracked as he shouted her name, rushing to her side.
"Get me a wet napkin-now!" he barked at a butler who had rushed in. His hands were trembling as he lifted her into his arms.
They immediately called their personal doctor. But every passing second felt like an hour to Scott, and the doctor's slow movements made his blood boil.
A few minutes later, the doctor said cautiously, "Sir, everything will be fine. You need to calm-"
"Shut up and get to treatment now!" Scott snapped, his eyes blazing. "Nothing must happen to her. If not... your family-everyone-will be wiped out!"
The doctor froze at the threat, then quickly moved to examine Flora, who Scott had already laid gently on the bed.
Scott paced the room like a caged beast, every muscle tight with fear.
Finally, the doctor looked up, his tone shifting. "Young master... it is a thing of joy. Your wife is pregnant."
Scott froze as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. For a moment, he didn't blink, didn't breathe. The words hung in the air, unreal, like a dream he was afraid to touch.
"Pregnant...?" His voice was a low, disbelieving whisper. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might break through his chest.
He turned slowly toward Flora, his eyes softening with an emotion so deep it almost hurt. He could feel the weight of every battle they had fought, every danger they had survived, crashing into this single moment.
His lips curved into a slow, stunned smile, but his throat tightened, making it hard to speak. Relief washed over him in waves-wild, fierce, overwhelming.
The man who had stared down death countless times now stood utterly undone... by the tiny, fragile life growing inside the woman he loved.
Flora, however, remained still, unaware of the news that had just changed everything.
~~~~~~
"Is there anything else we need to monitor?" Scott asked, his voice calmer now but still edged with command.
The doctor gave a respectful nod. "Yes, young master. You must ensure she is free from stress. Do not let her do anything strenuous. Make her rest. Keep her happy in every way. Also-" He reached into his bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "-these are the foods she must start eating now, for her health and the baby's."
Scott stepped forward and took the list from him. "Thank you. And whenever I need your services, you make sure you are always ready."
"Yes, young master." The doctor bowed his head, then quietly walked out of the room.
Scott turned back toward the bed. Flora lay there, her breathing soft and steady, her face peaceful in sleep. He sat down beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead before pressing a tender kiss there. Then, without thinking, he leaned down and captured her lips in a gentle kiss.
He felt blessed-truly blessed-as a new father. "I can't wait for you to wake up, baby," he murmured with a smile, his voice filled with joy.
Just then, a vibration broke the silence. It came from Flora's phone, which was sitting on the beautifully carved desk nearby. Not wanting to disturb her, he picked it up and quietly left the room.
In his study, he answered the call.
"Hello? Hello? Please, can you refer this call to Flora? She needs to be at the office right now! The missing files are still not found. What steps have you taken-or what are you doing at home exactly?!" The voice on the other end was sharp, almost shouting.
Scott's eyes narrowed. "What? You mean this is how you refer to my wife?"
There was a pause. The tone on the other end shifted immediately. "Sorry-sorry, Mr. Scott. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" The person hung up quickly.
Scott stared at the phone, his jaw tightening. Missing files?
His mind went back to what Flora had mentioned the day baby Jeda was taken-that she needed to be at the office because of an urgent matter.
"So this is it..." he muttered. "I need to do something."
Sliding the phone into his pocket, he rose from his chair and walked out of the study, his expression dark with determination.
~~~~~~
In a grand mansion bathed in golden hues, its intricate designs catching the afternoon light, Cylene sat in a velvet armchair, her fingers idly tracing the glossy surface of her manicured nails. This home-this luxury-had been given to her by Andrea. She knew very well that every comfort she enjoyed came with a price, the result of the agreement she had made with him. In truth, it felt as if she had signed her very life away.
But today, her mind was on something darker. She wanted to speak with her daughter about plotting revenge against Flora. They had no idea Flora was pregnant. If they knew... their plans would have grown even more venomous.
"Mom, so you're really enjoying this place, huh?" Presch's voice carried a faint edge of amusement as she sank into the armchair beside her mother.
Cylene's lips curved faintly. "Darling, I only just moved in. I want you to have a taste of it too, so don't speak as if I'm the only one indulging."
"Alright, Mom. So... I can come here anytime?"
"Yes, dear. This is your place. Your home as well."
Presch leaned forward, her eyes catching the warm glint of the chandelier above. "I called you here because I've been thinking-we should plant someone as a maid in Flora's home. Someone to watch her. I want to know her routines, her comings and goings... everything."
A slow, cold smile tugged at the corners of Cylene's mouth. "What do you think?"
Presch's grin was sharp, almost predatory. "Mom, you'll be the best forever." She hugged her mother tightly, then turned her gaze toward the doorway, her eyes narrowing.
"Vivian! Vivian!" Cylene's voice cut through the still air.
A young woman dressed in a crisp maid's uniform entered, her steps hesitant. "Yes, madam?"
"Is that how you stand when I call for you? Kneel down and answer me," Cylene said, her tone like silk over steel.
Vivian instantly dropped to her knees, head bowed so low her hair brushed the marble floor.
"You remember everything we discussed about Flora," Cylene continued, her voice measured and deliberate. "You will start implementing it from now on. Understood?"
Vivian gave a single, sharp nod.
~~~~
It was evening now. The air was cool, carrying a strange stillness, as though something unseen had swept through the city and left a quiet warning behind.
Jann, Gad's secretary, walked with measured steps. She had only recently joined the Mafia base, the same time Joan was brought into Scott's group. Yet here she was, already on her first mission. Tonight, she wasn't approaching just anyone-her target was precise, her purpose fixed.
Broe had just clocked out for the day. He moved toward the company's garage, his mind set on home and nothing more. But halfway across the lot, a thought stopped him-he'd left his car key in his office.
With a sigh, he turned back toward his office space.
That's when a voice called out, soft yet sharp enough to cut through his thoughts.
"Excuse me, sir... oh, excuse me-gentleman, I mean."
He turned, his gaze locking on the stranger.
She studied him with a slight, knowing curve to her lips. "What are you looking for? I think your car key is in your pocket."
Broe's brows pulled together. It wasn't so much her words or how she knew-it was her shape, the kind of figure that could tempt even a man sworn to a wife. The soft curls of her hair framed a face that seemed carved to lure trouble.
"Gentleman, I'm speaking to you," she said again, her tone a gentle nudge that pulled him back from staring.
"Oh-oh, my bad. I'm so sorry... thank you for that," Broe replied, patting his pocket.
His fingers brushed metal. He drew the key out slowly, surprised at himself for forgetting it was there all along.
Unlocking the car, he was about to get in-but something made him pause.
"Um... I'm so sorry, where are you going? Can I drop you off?"
A flicker of amusement passed through her eyes. "Oh, no problem. I'm just going..." She described a direction that happened to be along his way.
"Oh, come in. Let me drop you off." He smiled without thinking.
She slid into the passenger seat as though she had always belonged there.
As they drove, his eyes caught on the way her dress shaped against her. "I love your dressing," he said.
She turned to him, her smile quiet but warm. "Thank you so much. I didn't know a man like you still existed-someone who notices and appreciates women."
The words struck him deeper than they should have, leaving a faint swell of pride in his chest.
"So... what do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I?" She hesitated-just enough to seem genuine. "I'm looking for a job. I have nothing right now," she lied, smooth as silk.
"You? Looking for a job? As beautiful as you are?" Broe shook his head. "No-you've got a job already. I own a company, and I wouldn't mind if you worked with me."
Her eyes lit up just right. "Really? Oh, thank you so much."
Then, as if gratitude had no boundaries, she leaned in-offering a side hug, her arm warm against his.
"You're welcome," he said, his voice quieter. But the contact sent a strange heat through him-dangerous, addictive.
The thought of a wife waiting somewhere vanished. The steering wheel felt lighter. The road ahead blurred a little as a slow smile claimed his face, the kind of smile that had nothing to do with driving her home.