Mag-log inHospitals had a way of making everything feel still. Too still. Like the world outside had been paused, waiting for something important to finish before it could start again. Inside Kimani’s room, however, there was no such thing as stillness. There was life. Three tiny, soft, unpredictable lives. And Kimani couldn’t stop staring. “They’re real,” she whispered, almost to herself. Alaric, seated beside her bed, followed her gaze to the bassinets lined neatly beside her. Three of them. Side by side. Each one holding a piece of them. “They are,” he said quietly. Kimani exhaled slowly, her hand resting gently over the closest one. “They were inside me.” Alaric raised a brow. “Yes. That is typically how that works.” She shot him a look. “Don’t ruin my moment.” “I’m not ruining it,” he said, completely unbothered. “I’m grounding it.” She huffed softly, but her lips curved. Her attention drifted back to the babies. “They’re so small,” she murmured
Labor did not begin the way Kimani expected. There was no dramatic scream in the middle of the night. No sudden rush of panic. It started… annoyingly. “Alaric.” He didn’t look up immediately, still focused on the document in his hand. “Hmm?” “Alaric.” Something in her tone made him pause. He slowly lifted his head. Kimani was standing in the middle of the room, one hand on her lower back, the other resting protectively over her stomach. Her expression was… off. Not pain. Not yet. But something close. “What is it?” he asked, already standing. “I think…” she hesitated, brows furrowing slightly. “I think something’s happening.” Alaric was beside her in an instant. “What kind of ‘something’?” he asked carefully. Kimani opened her mouth— Then froze. Her grip tightened on his arm. “…Okay,” she whispered. “That… hurt.” Alaric’s entire body went still. “How bad?” he asked. She exhaled slowly, eyes closing. “Not… terrible,” she said. “Just… weird.” A beat. Then ano
Peace in Alaric’s house never lasted long. Kimani had just started enjoying one of those rare, quiet afternoons—the kind where everything felt still, calm, and manageable. She was curled up on the couch, a bowl of cut fruits beside her (which she had insisted must include mangoes, strawberries, and—strangely—pickles), scrolling through her phone. Alaric sat nearby, working, though his attention shifted to her every few minutes like it had become second nature. Everything was calm. Suspiciously calm. Which meant— The door burst open. “WE’RE HERE!” Kimani didn’t even flinch. She just closed her eyes. “…I spoke too soon.” Alaric didn’t look up immediately, but the tightness in his jaw said everything. Ava walked in first, full of energy, sunglasses perched dramatically on her head like she had just returned from a red carpet event instead of… wherever she actually came from. Behind her, Alex strolled in like he owned the place, hands in his pockets, completely unbothered.
Bonus Chapter 1 Three Heartbeats Pregnancy, Kimani quickly discovered, was not the soft, glowing, effortlessly beautiful experience people loved to romanticize. It was chaos. Glorious, emotional, unpredictable chaos. And Alaric… was in the middle of it. --- It started small. At least, that’s what Kimani told herself. One minute, she was perfectly fine—calm, composed, enjoying her morning. The next? “I want mangoes.” Alaric looked up from his tablet. “Mangoes?” he repeated. “Yes.” “At eight in the morning?” “Yes.” He studied her face carefully. “You don’t even like mangoes that much.” “I do now.” Alaric leaned back slowly. “Noted.” Ten minutes later, he was on the phone. “Get me fresh mangoes,” he said calmly. “Not store-bought. I want them ripe, organic, and perfect. If they’re not perfect, don’t bother coming back.” Kimani blinked at him. “You’re threatening someone over mangoes?” “I’m ensuring quality,” he corrected. She stared at him for a moment. Then sm
THIRD PERSON'S POV Months Later The city glittered beneath them, alive with its usual restless energy—but inside the penthouse, time felt slower. Softer. It had been months since the island. Months since golden sunsets, salt-kissed air, and quiet mornings where the world felt distant and unimportant. Life had returned to its usual rhythm—meetings, schedules, responsibilities—but something had shifted. Something permanent. Kimani stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress for what felt like the hundredth time. It was simple, elegant, and soft against her skin—nothing too dramatic, but enough to make tonight feel special. Because it was. She smiled faintly at her reflection. “Relax,” she whispered to herself. “It’s just dinner.” But it wasn’t just dinner. It was their anniversary. One year since everything had changed. One year since a wedding that wasn’t supposed to happen had turned into the beginning of something neither of them could live wit
THIRD PERSON'S POV The moment the jet touched down, reality returned with it. The soft, dreamlike calm of the island faded as the tires met the runway with a firm, grounding thud. The gentle hush of waves and warm ocean air was replaced by the structured efficiency of the city—sharp, fast, unapologetically alive. Kimani felt it instantly. She sat still for a moment after landing, her fingers loosely intertwined with Alaric’s, her mind caught somewhere between the island they had just left behind and the life waiting ahead. Alaric glanced at her, already reading her thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re already missing it,” he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Kimani turned to him slowly. “Already?” she echoed. “Alaric, I started missing it the moment the plane took off.” He huffed a quiet laugh, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a brief kiss against her knuckles. “Dangerous,” he said. “You’re getting sentimental again.” “And you’re not?” she challenged. He did
KIMANI It was finally December. Not just the calendar kind of December. The real kind. The kind that turned the mansion into something out of a magazine spread overnight. I woke up to the faint sound of movement downstairs—boxes being dragged, laughter echoing faintly through the hallways, th
KIMANI I woke to warmth. Not just the soft, early-morning kind that seeped through the curtains, but the steady, unmistakable warmth of another body pressed close to mine. An arm was draped around my waist, firm and possessive even in sleep, anchoring me in place. For a second, I didn’t mov
KIMANI When we sat, Alaric gave a small nod to the people closest to our table. The executives, it was subtle and effortless. A quiet acknowledgment that somehow carried weight. Heads dipped back in return, polite smiles exchanged. I followed his lead, smiling too, and was met with warmth inste
KIMANI The car ride home felt different from the one that brought us to the event. Quieter. Softer. Like the night itself was winding down with us. The city lights blurred past the window, streaks of gold and white melting into the dark. My body finally registered what my mind had been igno







