MasukMorning came quietly, the way it often did now—without urgency, without noise. Elena woke to a pale spill of light across the curtains and the distant hum of the city below. For a few seconds, she lay still, letting herself exist in the fragile space between sleep and waking, where nothing demanded answers and the future hadn’t yet pressed its full weight against her chest.Then she shifted.The fatigue returned instantly, a slow heaviness in her limbs that felt deeper than exhaustion. It wasn’t pain. It was awareness. A constant reminder that her body was no longer just hers, that every breath, every choice, carried consequences she could not see.Adrian wasn’t beside her.She turned her head toward the empty half of the bed, the sheets already cool. That alone told her he’d been up for a while. Adrian didn’t wake early unless his mind refused to let him rest.Elena pushed herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed, pausing as a faint wave of dizziness rolled through
Elena had learned, over the past few weeks, that knowing did not make things lighter.If anything, it made them heavier.She woke before dawn with that familiar, bone-deep fatigue that sleep no longer chased away. The room was quiet, wrapped in the blue hush that came just before morning. Adrian lay beside her, one arm curved protectively around her waist, his breathing slow and even. He hadn’t slept well in days. She could tell by the way his grip tightened whenever she shifted, as though his body no longer trusted stillness.Elena stared at the ceiling and let her hand rest over her abdomen. There was no movement yet—nothing she could feel—but the weight was there all the same. Not physical. Emotional. A constant awareness that something fragile and powerful existed because of her.And that everyone seemed to be afraid of it.She moved carefully, disentangling herself from Adrian’s hold. Even so, his eyes opened instantly.“Where are you going?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.“Ba
Elena woke up that morning with a heaviness in her limbs that didn’t match the time on the clock. It was barely 7am, the soft morning light filtering through the thick curtains, painting the room in muted gold. Normally, she would already be stretching, pulling herself out of bed before Adrian woke, but today her body refused to cooperate. Her stomach felt heavy and unsettled, not painful, just… strange. A type of discomfort she couldn’t quite name.She groaned quietly and curled slightly to the side, one hand sliding unconsciously to her abdomen.Adrian, who had been lightly asleep behind her, woke instantly at the small sound. His arm tightened gently around her waist.“Elena?” His voice was still husky with sleep, warm and deep. “What’s wrong?”She shook her head, even though she knew he would pick up the lie immediately. “Nothing. Just a little tired.”Adrian shifted, propping himself on his elbow so he could look down at her. Hi
Elena woke up before Adrian the next morning, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, his arm locked around her lower back like she might disappear if he loosened his hold. The curtains were still drawn, the room still dim, but she could already feel the hum of tension in the air—like life itself was warning her that today would not be ordinary.She slowly shifted, trying not to wake him. But the moment she moved an inch, his arm tightened.“Where do you think you’re going,” he murmured, voice deep and gravelly from sleep.Elena smiled softly. “Bathroom.”“No.” His eyes cracked open, still half-lidded yet intense. “Five more minutes.”“We’ve already spent thirty minutes in bed,” she reminded him, brushing her thumb against his jaw. “We have a meeting, remember?”Adrian dragged her back against him, burying his face in her neck. “I remember. I just don’t care.”She chuckled, even though her heart was heavy underneath. Today wasn’t just any meeting. Today was the board meeting where the
The morning unfolded in a slow, calm haze—one of those rare days when everything felt soft around the edges. Elena sat in the sunroom, her sketchbook resting against her thighs as she lazily let her pencil glide across the page. Pregnancy had made her slower, gentler, calmer. Almost as if her body was wrapped in warm cotton.She wasn’t sketching anything specific—just flowing lines, shapes that resembled fabrics. She already knew this would turn into a dress later… something airy, something elegant… something meant for a mother.Her hand dropped to her belly.Three months already.She still couldn’t believe it.A smile pulled at her lips as she whispered, “Your father is going to spoil you.”As if summoned by the word father, the sunroom door slid open, and Adrian stepped inside, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking like he had walked straight out of a magazine—except the soft worry in his eyes was all for her.“You’re
Elena’s fingers curled instinctively around the blanket the moment Marcus spoke those words. A cold, invisible knife sliced through the air between them.The man Adrian fears most.She didn’t even know such a man existed.Adrian didn’t fear anything. He didn’t fear rivals. He didn’t fear enemies. He didn’t fear consequences. And he never—never—showed weakness.So for Marcus, of all people, to say that…Elena’s chest tightened.Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Marcus… who is he talking about?”Marcus didn’t answer immediately.He paced once, twice, shoulders tense, jaw locked, fingers twitching near the gun holster he rarely touched unless he felt truly threatened.Then he finally stopped and looked at her.“Elena… this isn’t someone you want to know.”“But he’s coming here,” she argued, her heart pounding. “I need to know.”Marcus hesitated—something he never did—which only made her pulse spike more.“His name is—”The door swung open before he could finish.Elena jumped.Marcus’s







