MasukLabor starts at three AM.Not dramatic. Not sudden. Just, pressure. Discomfort. Knowing.“Lucian. It’s time.”He’s awake instantly. “Time time? Or false alarm time?”“Time time. Call the doctor. Get the bag. We’re going.”The hospital is quiet. Middle of the night. Skeleton staff. Efficient.They admit me. Hook up monitors. Check dilation. Four centimeters.“You’ve got time,” the nurse says. “Labor’s just starting. Could be hours. Could be quick. We’ll see.”Lucian calls everyone. Julian. Marcus. Evelyn. Sophia. Mrs. Caldwell.Within an hour, they’re all here. Waiting room. Pacing. Anxious.Six hours later, I’m at seven centimeters. Exhausted. In pain. Done.“I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s too much. Too hard. I want to quit.”Lucian holds my hand. “You can. You are. You’re doing it right now.”“I want the epidural. I changed my mind. I want drugs. All the drugs.”“Okay. We’ll get the epidural. Whatever you need.”The anesthesiologist arrives. Rebecca Chen.Wait. Rebecca Chen?“Rebecca
My due date is tomorrow.I wake up knowing. Just knowing.Emma’s coming soon. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow. But soon.Lucian’s already awake. Watching me.“You feel it too?”“I feel it. She’s ready.”We spend the morning preparing. Checking hospital bag. Reviewing birth plan. Timing practice contractions.Everything’s ready. Has been ready for weeks.But today feels different. Final. Real.Mrs. Caldwell makes breakfast. Excessive breakfast. Pancakes. Eggs. Bacon. Fruit. Everything.“You need energy. Labor’s exhausting. Eat.”“I’m too nervous to eat.”“Eat anyway. Doctor’s orders. Well, my orders. Close enough.”Julian arrives mid-morning. Unannounced. Typical.“Came to check on you. Make sure you’re not panicking.”“I’m panicking.”“Good. Normal. Healthy.” He sits. “Can I tell you something? About becoming a parent?”“You don’t have kids.”“No. But I watched Lucian become a different person the moment you told him you were pregnant. Watched him go from workaholic CEO to guy who leaves
The morning after my confession, Lucian wakes me with breakfast in bed.Pancakes. Fruit. Decaf coffee. Everything’s perfect.“What’s this for?”“Sit. Eat. Then I need to tell you something.”I eat. He watches. Nervous. Which makes me nervous.“Okay. I’m sitting. I’m eating. What’s going on?”He takes my hand. “Last night, you told me you almost gave up. Almost quit. Almost disappeared. And I’ve been thinking about that all night.”“Lucian—”“Let me finish. Please.” He takes a breath. “I need you to know something. I need you to hear this. Really hear it.”“Okay.”“I will never let you feel that way again. Never let you feel like giving up is the answer. Like running is the solution. Like you’re not enough.” His voice is intense. Certain. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life making sure you know that. Feel that. Believe that.”I’m crying. Already crying.“That night at the bar, I didn’t know I was saving you. I was just, drawn t
The night after Vaughn’s guilty plea, I can’t sleep.Nine months pregnant. Uncomfortable. Mind racing.Lucian finds me in the nursery at two AM.“Can’t sleep?”“Too much happening. Trial over. Baby coming. Gala in three weeks. Everything.”He sits in the rocking chair. Pulls me onto his lap. Carefully.“Talk to me. What’s really keeping you up?”I’m quiet. Then, “I need to tell you something. About that first night. The hotel bar. There’s something I never said.”“Okay.”“I wasn’t just at that bar because of Ethan. I mean, yes, he’d just cheated. Yes, I was heartbroken. But there’s more.”“I’m listening.”“I was there because I’d made a decision. About my life. About my future. About, everything.” I take a breath. “I was going to quit. My job. Marketing. New York. All of it. I was going to move home. Start over. Give up.”Lucian’s quiet. Processing.“Ethan’s cheating wasn’t just betrayal. It was confirmation. Proof that I wasn’t enough. That I’d never be enough. That trying to build a
The trial starts with unexpected news.Richard Vaughn’s lawyer requests a meeting. Before opening statements. Urgent.“He wants to negotiate,” the prosecutor Rebecca Chen says. “Last-minute plea deal.”“After everything? After all his posturing?” Lucian’s voice is hard. “What’s he offering?”“Full confession. Guilty plea to all charges. Cooperation in recovering stolen funds. In exchange for twenty-five years instead of life.”“That’s generous for someone facing life in prison.”“He knows he’s going to lose. Jury’s already against him. Evidence is overwhelming. He’s trying to minimize damage.”“What do you think?” I ask Rebecca.“I think he’s scared. I think he realizes Patterson’s testimony, the Ponzi scheme evidence, everything Julian found, it’s airtight. He can’t win. So he’s trying to control his sentencing.”“Do we have to agree?”“No. But the judge might accept it anyway. Guilty plea saves time. Saves taxpayer money. Gets funds back to victims faster.”Lucian stands. Paces. “I
The day before the trial, Evelyn insists on a dress fitting.“For the gala. You’ll need something appropriate. Something that says success, not scandal.”“I’ll be three weeks postpartum. I have no idea what size I’ll be.”“Which is why we’re getting multiple sizes. Tailored. Ready for whatever.” She’s relentless. “Besides, you need the distraction. Trial starts tomorrow. You’re stressed. Shopping helps.”“I don’t shop when stressed. I stress-bake.”“Then you’ll stress-shop. New experience. Come on.”She drags me to a boutique in Midtown. Private appointment. Designer dresses. Too expensive. Too fancy.“Evelyn, I can’t afford any of this.”“Good thing I’m buying then. Consider it a welcome-to-the-family gift. Overdue by about a year.”The stylist, a woman named Claudia, takes one look at me.“Nine months pregnant. Attending a gala three weeks after birth. We need strategic construction. Built-in support. Forgiveness in all the right places.”“You make it sound like architecture.”“Fash







