Mag-log inThe first thing Elena noticed when she woke was the quiet. Not the peaceful kind, not the gentle hush of early morning, but the unnatural stillness that felt imposed rather than earned. The city beyond the glass walls seemed paused, as though someone had pressed a finger to the pulse of the world and held it there. Her second realization came slowly, like a shadow stretching across her thoughts. Adrian wasn’t beside her. She sat up, blinking against the light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, dizziness threatened to pull her back down, but she breathed through it, grounding herself the way she had learned to do these past weeks. Her hand went instinctively to her abdomen. The familiar awareness was there, steady, quiet. That helped. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The penthouse was awake. Not with noise—but with presence. Muted footsteps echoed from the corridor. Low voices murmured behind closed doors. The faint electronic hum of systems tha
The night before the gala passed without incident, and that alone unsettled Adrian.He lay awake beside Elena, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, the soft brush of the sheets as she shifted in her sleep. Her hand rested lightly against her abdomen, as though even unconscious she was aware of the life growing there. The sight filled his chest with something fierce and aching all at once.Silence had never meant safety.By morning, the city was draped in gray, clouds hanging low and heavy as if the sky itself were holding its breath. Elena stood before the mirror in the bedroom, adjusting the fall of her dress with careful precision. It was elegant without being ostentatious, soft lines that moved with her body rather than constraining it. She looked like herself again—composed, unbowed.“You don’t have to do this,” Adrian said from behind her.She met his gaze in the mirror. “I want to.”He nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. Choice.
Morning 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
Morning 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







