Chapter 495
Chapter 494:
“I never joke about you.” He stood, brushed the dust from his knees, and walked toward her with the tablet in hand. “According to their analysis — based on your hormonal cycle, nutritional intake, and our genetic compatibility markers — next Tuesday at approximately nine PM presents a statistically optimal window. They’ve also formulated a prenatal vitamin regimen tailored to your specific DNA. It’s on the kitchen counter p>
He delivered all of this in the same tone he used when discussing EBITDA margins. Jocelyn felt laughter rise in her chest, warm and helpless.
“You want a girl,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I want you,” Gaston corrected. “I want a child who looks like you. Who has your strength and your stubbornness and your capacity for love.” He set the tablet aside and took her hands in his. “But yes. A daughter would be — appropriate. Someone to inherit what we’re building. Someone to continue what we’ve started p>
𝖯о𝗉𝘂l𝖺r s𝘁𝗈𝗿𝗂𝘦s 𝗈𝗻 𝗀𝗮lո𝗈𝘷𝘦𝗅ѕ.𝘤оm
Jocelyn leaned into him, pressing her face against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat — steady, strong, the rhythm that had become the quiet soundtrack of her life.
“Tuesday at nine,” she murmured. “I’ll clear my schedule. For science p>
Gaston’s arms tightened around her. “For science,” he agreed.
The phone rang.
Gaston stiffened. Jocelyn felt the shift move through his entire body — the immediate transition from relaxed intimacy to predatory alertness. He didn’t release her, but his head turned toward the sound, his eyes narrowing.
“Ignore it,” she said.
“I can’t.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, then crossed to the side table where his private phone sat charging. He glanced at the screen, and his expression went flat.
“Chloe Monroe,” he said. The name sounded like dust in his mouth.
Jocelyn felt her own body tighten, old instincts flaring. Dr. Chloe Monroe. Gaston’s former therapist. The woman who had stood in her office and tried to convince her she was nothing but a replacement, a convenience, a PR arrangement.
“Let it go to voicemail,” Jocelyn said.
Gaston looked at her. His thumb hovered over the decline button, then came down on it, silencing the call. His face was a mask of cold fury. He turned back to Jocelyn, his eyes dark with a protective instinct that bordered on violent.
He picked up the phone again and dialed his head of security, putting the call on speaker.
“Carter,” he said, his voice leaving no room for discussion. “Chloe Monroe is to be classified as a tier-one security threat. Revoke all legacy access codes, flag her name across all domestic and international properties, and have a legal restraining order in place by morning. If she comes within five hundred feet of my wife, you will have her removed immediately. Am I clear p>
“Crystal, Mr. Collins,” Carter’s voice replied, crisp and efficient.
Gaston hung up, tossed the phone onto the sofa, and turned back to Jocelyn. His expression was open now, and waiting.
“Well,” she said, keeping her voice steady despite the way her heart was hammering. “That was efficient p>
“I should have done it months ago.” He crossed to her and cupped her face in his hands. “I should have made it impossible for her to reach me. I should have p>