The silence that followed the girl's disappearance was deafening. Sophia's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding like a war drum. Adrian stood rigid beside her, his protective stance unwavering, eyes scanning the dim corridor for any sign of the apparition. "Did you see her?" Sophia whispered, her voice barely audible. Adrian nodded slowly, his jaw clenched. "I did." Sophia's knees buckled slightly, and she reached out to the cold metal wall for support. The weight of the revelation pressed heavily upon her. A daughter? But how? The twins were still unborn. Was this a vision? A warning? Or something else entirely? Adrian placed a steadying hand on her back. "We need to get out of here. Now." Sophia nodded, her mind racing with questions. They retraced their steps through the labyrinthine corridors, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Every creak and groan of the old structure set their nerves on edge. Upon reaching the surfa
Sophia stood in the kitchen, her hand resting absently over her belly as the scent of lavender and beeswax curled in the candlelit air. The golden glow wrapped the room in softness, almost sacred in its stillness. She had always believed peace was fleeting—something you stumbled upon by accident rather than earned. But tonight, with Adrian humming softly as he rinsed their dishes and Aria’s old storybook tucked into the corner of the shelf, the world felt suspended.For the first time in weeks, the weight pressing on her chest had lifted—just enough for her to breathe.“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrian asked gently, drying his hands on a towel as he leaned against the counter.Sophia nodded. “Just tired. But in a good way. Like… my body finally believes we’re safe. At least for now.”His eyes lingered on her, searching. “If I could give you forever, I would.”She smiled faintly. “I don’t need forever. Just one more day with you. Then another.”He stepped closer, pressing a kiss to he
Adrian didn’t move.The girl's image still lingered at the edge of the garden path, even though she had vanished into the woods like mist burned off by morning light. Her silence had chilled him more than any scream might have.“Simon,” he repeated into the comm, his voice low but urgent, “there was a child. In the garden. Possibly a projection. Or worse—a distraction.”A crackle, then Simon’s voice: “I’m three minutes out. Hold position. Don’t engage unless threatened.”Adrian’s gaze swept the tree line again, muscles coiled.But nothing stirred.No sound. No wind. Not even a rustle of leaves.Still, every instinct screamed.This wasn’t random.He turned back toward the cottage. Light from the window spilled onto the grass, warm and golden. Inside, Sophia was waiting. And their child—already making their presence known—rested beneath her heart.He exhaled, letting the soldier in him fall away. Just for a little while.Sophia opened the door before he reached it.Her hair was loose ar
The flight to London was private, quiet, and cloaked in stormlight.Thunder rolled in the distance as the jet cut through clouds, but inside the cabin, everything was hushed—muted leather, low lights, and the gentle rhythm of Sophia’s breathing as she rested her head on Adrian’s shoulder.Adrian hadn’t stopped watching her. Every time she shifted or curled a hand instinctively around her stomach, his jaw clenched. Not with fear—but with something close to awe. That flutter back in the nursery had undone him. It had cracked through his armor in a way no enemy ever could.She was carrying their child.And now he would burn the world to protect them.“Stop staring,” she murmured without opening her eyes.“I’m not staring. I’m… studying.”“That sounds creepier.”He chuckled. “Fine. I’m admiring.”Sophia cracked one eye open and smiled. “Better.”She sat up slightly, adjusting the blanket across her lap. The soft hum of the engines became their lullaby. Outside, the clouds parted, revealin
Morning came softly, like a lullaby whispered through the leaves.Sophia woke in Adrian’s arms on the nursery floor. They had fallen asleep in the rocking chair, wrapped around each other like the last threads of something fragile and new. Neither of them had spoken again last night—words would have been too heavy. But in the hush between heartbeats, a promise had passed between them.This child would grow up surrounded by truth. And love. No matter who came knocking.She stirred first. The light crept in through the window, catching on the bare floorboards, illuminating dust motes that danced like lazy stars. Adrian’s arms didn’t loosen; he only sighed deeper, his hand resting instinctively over her belly.Sophia smiled, pressing her lips gently to his temple. “We should get a real crib soon.”He opened one eye. “You want practical now? I was thinking secret panic rooms and titanium shutters.”She laughed, the sound warm and real. “We can do both. Crib first. Panic room later.”Adria
Morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Blackwood Manor, casting warm golden beams across the floor. It painted the walls with a gentler glow, as though the house itself was beginning to breathe again—slowly, cautiously, but without the weight it had known for years.Adrian woke first.Sophia lay curled against him, her breath even, her hand still resting on his chest. He didn’t move. Not because he was afraid of waking her, but because he couldn’t quite believe she was real. That this moment was real. That despite everything—contracts, betrayal, deception, the war with Mercer—they had made it here.He shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.She stirred, eyes fluttering open, and smiled sleepily. “You’re staring again.”“I am,” he admitted. “I can’t seem to stop.”She laughed softly and pulled herself closer, tucking under his chin. “You’ll have plenty of time for that. I’m not going anywhere.”A long pause settled between them, the kind that spoke volume