Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask (by Silver Spoon) novel Chapter 402

Chapter 402: Chapter 186 Wounded Masculine Pride

Gemma’s POV

After the medical scare, I couldn’t contain my laughter as I watched Dominic lying on the stretcher next to me in the Thorne family’s private medical facility, his face a portrait of wounded masculine pride that no Capo should ever display.

"Could you please control yourself, Gemma?" Dominic grumbled, adjusting his hospital gown with as much dignity as a feared mafia enforcer could muster under such circumstances.

"I simply can’t," I gasped between fits of giggles that bubbled up uncontrollably from witnessing the most dangerous man in Port Serenity reduced to this state.

"Gemma, Dr. Taylor already explained that I fainted due to emotional overload," Dominic’s voice carried that specific tone men use when their reputation as ruthless killers feels threatened.

"My darling husband," I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes, "you passed out cold during our baby’s first ultrasound. What on earth will happen when you’re in the delivery room with your heir?" New laughter erupted from me at the mental image of the Thorne family’s most feared Capo collapsing during childbirth.

"This was a one-time occurrence, Gemma." Dominic’s stern expression, the same one that struck terror into rival families, only made me laugh harder.

The curtain parted as Zoe strode in carrying a tray of snacks, her face serious for about a moment before cracking into a wide grin that transformed her usual cold intelligence operative demeanor.

"Oh, Dominic, this is priceless!" Zoe burst into laughter, setting me off again. "Don Caleb limited the visitors for security reasons, but fair warning—the boys from your crew are waiting outside with enough material to mock you for ages. This will become legendary in family circles."

"Damn it, Zoe! You need to control them. This is entirely your fault," Dominic complained, crossing his arms defensively like a petulant child rather than a man who controlled half the city’s underground operations.

"My fault? How exactly?" Zoe raised an eyebrow, still fighting laughter while maintaining her razor-sharp composure.

"Your driving through hostile territory is criminally dangerous. I nearly died in that armored car today navigating enemy checkpoints. I was already worried sick about my wife’s safety in this war zone, and then Taylor lets me hear our future family heir’s heartbeat. It was an emotional tsunami in the span of moments!" Dominic’s explanation held water, but his indignation remained hilarious given his fearsome reputation.

"Dominic, you’re whining like a street soldier denied his cut," Zoe teased with the brutal honesty only a trusted family operative could get away with, which sent me into another laughing fit until I felt something warm spreading beneath me.

"Oh no. No way." I shifted uncomfortably, realizing what had happened in our heavily guarded medical sanctuary.

"What’s wrong, Gemma?" Dominic’s annoyance instantly transformed into the protective concern of a man whose wife represented his most precious vulnerability.

"I think I just peed the bed." I lifted the sheet in disbelief to find a wet patch spreading beneath me. "This cannot be happening! And it’s entirely your fault, Dominic!"

"Mine? How is this possibly my fault?" Dominic’s mock outrage failed spectacularly as his lips twitched with suppressed laughter, temporarily forgetting his dignity as a ranking family member.

Zoe collapsed into a nearby chair, her usually controlled intelligence operative facade crumbling as she gasped for breath between peals of laughter. Dominic’s restraint finally crumbled as he joined in, his shoulders shaking with mirth in a way that would shock anyone who’d seen him interrogate enemies.

Zander chose that precise moment to enter the room. He assessed the situation with one clinical glance, accustomed to the Thorne family’s various crises, and asked with medical precision, "Did you wet the bed?" When I nodded miserably, he announced, "I know I shouldn’t laugh at the wife of a Capo, but I’m going to anyway," before joining the chorus of hysterics that filled our secure medical room.

My saving grace arrived in the form of a trusted family nurse who quickly evaluated the situation, ushered Zoe and Zander outside past our armed security detail, and called for another nurse who brought a wheelchair to escort me to a private bathroom for a shower.

After the fainting fiasco and the bed-wetting incident, Dr. Taylor finally released us from the family’s medical facility once my test results came back normal. Zoe stood ready to drive us home through Thorne territory, but I needed to check on Hunter first.

After chatting a while longer with Hunter and his wife under the watchful eyes of our security detail, we said our goodbyes and finally headed toward the elevator through corridors lined with our armed guards.

"I’m going to be the one getting terminated," I sighed while waiting. "I just returned from our honeymoon in Sicily and have already missed part of a workday at the legitimate business front."

"Relax, Gemma. Don Caleb specifically said not to worry—he values your skills in managing the family’s legal operations too much to let you go over security incidents," Zoe reassured me, her hand on my shoulder with surprising gentleness.

In the secured parking garage, Dominic extended his hand toward Zoe as she helped me into our armored vehicle’s passenger seat.

"Hand over those keys, reckless operative," Dominic demanded with his usual commanding tone.

"No chance! You fainted today—you’re not driving through hostile territory," Zoe declared firmly, unimpressed by rank when it came to safety.

"I refuse to endure another stress test courtesy of your defensive driving through enemy checkpoints," Dominic protested, though his concern was valid given recent attacks.

"Don’t be ridiculous, Dominic. Get in the back behind the bulletproof partition. I’m driving us home," Zoe ignored his outstretched hand, walked around the car with professional efficiency, and slipped into the driver’s seat. "Get in already, Dominic!"

Dominic complied with much grumbling about subordinate insubordination. When we arrived at our heavily fortified family compound, we found the house buzzing with conversation and laughter—trusted associates and household staff had gathered, anxiously awaiting news of the attack and my condition. Our guard dog Amber greeted us enthusiastically, bounding toward us with a wagging tail past the armed sentries. As we mingled with everyone under the watchful protection of our security team, the jokes about Dominic’s fainting spell began and continued relentlessly for the evening.

A profound sense of peace and security enveloped me, wrapping around my heart like the family’s protective embrace. I had an incredible household fortress, a devoted husband who commanded respect and fear throughout the underworld, loyal friends bound by blood oaths, an adorable guard dog, and soon, our heir would be in my arms to continue the Thorne family legacy. What more could the wife of a Capo possibly want from this dangerous life? Absolutely nothing.