LOGINEvelyn Blackwood calls the morning before the trial.“I’m coming over. This afternoon. We need to talk.”“About what?”“You’ll see. Just, be home. Both of you.”She hangs up before I can respond.“That sounded ominous,” Lucian says.“Your mother wants to talk. Right before the trial. That’s never good.”“Maybe she’s just checking in. Being supportive.”“Your mother doesn’t just check in. She has agendas.”Three hours later, Evelyn arrives. Designer suit. Perfect hair. Intimidating as always.But her face is softer. Less sharp. Almost, warm?“Thank you for seeing me,” she says. Actually polite.“Of course. What’s going on?”She sits. Carefully. Places her purse aside. Looks at both of us.“I owe you an apology. A real one. Not the half-hearted acknowledgment I gave before. A genuine apology.”I freeze. Evelyn Blackwood apologizing? Actually apologizing?“When you first started seeing Lucian, I was horrible. Dismissive. Cruel. I questioned your motives. Your character. Your worth.” She
After dinner, after the anniversary celebration, Lucian disappears into his study.Returns with a small box.“I have something for you. Was saving it for the right moment. Anniversary feels right.”“Lucian, you already got me an engagement ring. A gorgeous engagement ring.”“I know. This is different. Open it.”I open the box. Inside, a wedding band. Simple. Elegant. Perfect.Rose gold. Delicate vines etched into the metal. Tiny diamonds embedded throughout.“It’s beautiful.”“I bought it three months ago. Right after Vaughn’s first attack. When everything was chaos. When I didn’t know if we’d survive.” He sits beside me. “I was in a meeting. Board was questioning my judgment. Investors were panicking. Media was destroying us. And all I could think was, I need to marry her. Before something takes her away. Before I lose my chance.”“So you bought a wedding ring. During a crisis.”“I left the meeting early. Went to the jeweler. Spent two hours picking the perfect one. The one that felt
I wake up to Lucian watching me.“What?” I ask, still groggy.“Do you know what today is?”“Tuesday?”“It’s the anniversary. One year. Since we met. Since that hotel bar. Since you were crying and I asked if you were okay.”I sit up. Carefully. Nine months pregnant. Everything hurts.“One year. That’s, that’s impossible. It feels like yesterday. And also like forever.”“A lot happened in one year.”“Understatement.” I laugh. “We met. Fell in love. Fought Vaughn. Survived scandal. Got engaged. Created a human. Built a company. Lived through multiple crises.”“When you list it like that, it sounds exhausting.”“It was exhausting. Is exhausting. But also, the best year of my life.”“Mine too.” He pulls me close. Careful of my stomach. “I planned something. For today. Anniversary celebration. If you’re up for it.”“How elaborate are we talking?”“Not elaborate. Intimate. Just us. Recreating that first night. Well, parts of it. The good parts.”“The hotel bar closed six months ago. Renovat
Julian arrives for dinner looking different.Not his usual confident swagger. Nervous. Distracted.“You okay?” Lucian asks.“Fine. Yeah. Fine.”“You said fine three times. You’re not fine.”Julian sits. Runs his hand through his hair. “I need advice. Relationship advice. From you. Which feels weird but here we are.”I lean forward. “You’re seeing someone?”“Maybe. Yes. Kind of. It’s complicated.”“Complicated how?” Lucian grins. “This is amazing. Julian Blackwood, eternal bachelor, actually interested in someone.”“Don’t make it a thing.”“Too late. It’s a thing. Tell us everything.”Julian sighs. “Her name is Rebecca Chen. She’s a prosecutor. Federal. Southern District.”I freeze. “Wait. Rebecca Chen? The prosecutor who delivered Vanessa’s letter to me?”“The same.”“You’re dating the prosecutor?”“I’m not dating her. I’m, we’ve had coffee. A few times. Talked. Connected. Maybe more than talked.”Lucian’s grinning wider. “How did this happen?”“I was delivering evidence. The Ponzi sc
The penthouse is finished early.Two weeks instead of three. Contractors worked overtime. Double shifts. Whatever it took.We move in three days before the trial.I walk through the door and stop.It’s perfect. Exactly like the renderings. But better. Real. Tangible. Ours.“Welcome home,” Lucian says. “Our home.”Mrs. Caldwell’s already unpacked everything. My clothes in my closet. Books on shelves. Kitchen organized. Like we’ve lived here forever.“Margaret, you’re a miracle worker.”“I’ve had practice. And I wanted everything ready when you arrived. Both of you. Soon to be three of you.” She touches my stomach gently. “Emma deserves to come home to something beautiful.”The nursery takes my breath away.Soft yellow walls. White furniture. Window seat with cushions. Mobile hanging above the crib. Rocking chair in the corner.Everything perfect. Everything ready. Everything waiting for our daughter.“I can’t believe this is real.”“Believe it. This is our life now. Domestic. Settled.
Two weeks in the safe house hotel.Patterson’s arrested. Charged with stalking. Harassment. Criminal threats.Bail set high. He’s not getting out.But we can’t go back to the penthouse. Not yet. Security’s being completely overhauled.Cameras. New locks. Bulletproof windows. Everything.It’ll take another week.Lucian sits across from me. Breakfast in the hotel suite. Security posted outside.“We can’t live like this,” he says.“I know.”“I mean after the penthouse is ready. After the trial. After everything. We can’t keep jumping from crisis to crisis. Moving. Hiding. Running.”“What are you saying?”“I’m saying we need stability. Real stability. A home. Not just a place we sleep between disasters.” He takes my hand. “Move in with me. Officially. Not because of threats or security. Because we’re building a life. Together. And I want that life to have a permanent address.”“I already live with you. My lease ended three months ago. All my stuff’s at the penthouse.”“I know. But I never







