LOGINInside, Blair sat on the sofa, her hand resting on her slight belly, while Roman stood nearby deep in conversation with Luca. Two-year-old Olivia was showing off her drawings to anyone who would look."Aunt Keira!" Olivia shouted, abandoning her colouring-in to run across the room. Keira bent down,
Olivia, growing restless, wiggled off Blair’s lap. “Can I go play with my blocks?”“Yes, but stay in the playroom,” Roman told her. “I’ll be there in a minute.”As Olivia skipped off, Roman pulled Blair to her feet and into his arms. “You look tired. You should have let me bring someone in to handle
“Mama! Look!”Blair looked up from her laptop to see her two-year-old daughter, Olivia, proudly showing off a crayon drawing that was mostly colorful scribbles.“That’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Blair said, genuinely impressed with the artwork of her toddler. “Is that our family?”Olivia nodded madly,
"Is that what you think?" Niko's voice was dangerously quiet. "That your only value is as a... what? A royal broodmare?""It's the reality of our position," she insisted. "The Wystovian crown needs an heir. You need an heir. And I can't—" Her voice broke.Niko crossed the distance between them in th
"I'm trying to protect him—""From what? From having a choice?" Keira's voice grew stronger. "You're deciding what's best for Niko without asking him what he wants. That's not protection, that's control."Amelia stared at her, startled by the blunt assessment."Look, I get it. The pressure is overwh
Amelia shook her head, the weight of her failure pressing down on her. "The doctors say there's nothing wrong with Niko, which means the problem lies with me. I'm considering stepping aside, letting him divorce me so he can marry someone who can actually give him an heir." She glanced at Keira, sudd
“About a three. Maybe four when I laugh.” Sutton appeared behind Keira, more composed but with that look of barely controlled worry that Blair recognized from their teenage years. “How’s your head? Any dizziness? Nausea? Double vision?” “I’m fine, Doctor Sutton. The doctor already checked everythi
“What does it say?” Roman asked. Blair read the message out loud. “Sweetie, Peter told me about your accident. We’re coming to the hospital right now.” “They’re coming to the hospital,” Keira said. “To see your dead body. Should we start practicing our grief faces now? I’ve been working on mine.”
Three days later, Blair sat in the back of an unmarked FBI surveillance van two blocks away from St. Matthew’s Cathedral, watching her own funeral on a small monitor. The irony wasn’t lost on her. If wasn’t so important what they were doing, she might have enjoyed it more. She could see the Gothic
After their shower, Blair wrapped herself in a towel and padded back to the bedroom, her body still humming from their morning activities. She was reaching for her clothes when she heard Roman clear his throat behind her. She turned around and her breath caught. Roman was on one knee, wearing nothi







