Chapter fourteen

Elara pov

The first thing I noticed was the silence.

Not the peaceful kindthe heavy, watchful kind. The kind that presses against your ears and makes you aware of every breath you take.

The mansion had been like that for days. Ever since the doctor confirmed what I already felt in my bones.

I was pregnant.

Not just implanted. Not just waiting.

Actually pregnant.

My hand drifted to my stomach before I could stop it. It was still flat, still normal, but it didn’t feel like it belonged only to me anymore. Every little ache, every flutter, every strange wave of heat inside me felt… purposeful.

A life was forming.

And Dante was changing.

That was the second thing I noticed.

He didn’t knock when he entered my room anymore. He didn’t bark orders. He didn’t avoid my eyes. Instead, he stood in the doorway now, dark gaze softer, shoulders less rigid.

“You’re not dressed,” he said.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I replied, pulling the robe tighter around myself.

“You always know when I’m coming.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. Because he was right. Somehow, my body always knew. My pulse had been unsettled minutes before he even stepped into the hallway.

“There’s an appointment,” he continued. “You should be ready.”

“What kind of appointment?”

“A real one.”

I hesitated. “You mean another doctor?”

“Yes.”

I swallowed. “Did something go wrong?”

His eyes flicked briefly to my stomach before meeting mine again. “No.”

That one word should have calmed me. It didn’t. Dante wasn’t a man who used gentle tones unless something mattered.

I dressed quickly, pulling on a soft dress that no longer fit the way it used to. My body was changing faster than I expected. My breasts felt heavier. My waist is softer. Even my skin felt different, sensitive, like it remembered things I didn’t.

When I came back out, Dante was waiting.

He looked at me for a long moment.

“What?” I asked.

“That dress,” he said. “We’ll get you better ones.”

“I like this one.”

“It’s not made for you anymore.”

I didn’t know why that made my chest tighten.

The car ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. His presence filled the space between us. When the driver hit a pothole, my body jerked forward.

Dante’s hand shot out instantly.

Not to steady me.

To shield my stomach.

Our eyes met.

Neither of us said anything.

At the clinic, the smell of antiseptic and something faintly sweet hit me. The waiting room was bright, too bright, like it wanted to pretend nothing scary ever happened here.

Dante didn’t sit across from me.

He sat beside me.

Close.

Alicia was supposed to be in Paris. That was what she’d told him yesterday. I’d heard her on the phone, her voice tight and sharp as she said goodbye.

But I still felt her absence like a weight lifting from my lungs.

“Are you okay?” Dante asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“You’re lying.”

I glanced at him. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Of failing. Of losing this baby. Of becoming something disposable once I did my job. Of wanting things I wasn’t supposed to.

“All of it,” I whispered.

He studied me, then nodded once. “Fair.”

The doctor confirmed everything: healthy, growing, strong heartbeat. Dante listened with an intensity that surprised me. He asked questions. He took notes.

When the doctor showed us the screen, a tiny flicker pulsed in the center.

“That’s the heartbeat,” she said.

I stared at it.

“That’s… real?”

Dante leaned in, his shoulder brushing mine. “Yes.”

Something in his voice shifted. Something raw.

Afterward, he took me shopping. Real shopping. Not the rushed kind with guards hovering and assistants picking things out.

He walked beside me.

He held up tiny clothes and frowned like they offended him.

“These are too small.”

“They’re for newborns.”

“They still look fragile.”

“They are fragile.”

He looked at me then. “So are you.”

No one had ever said that to me without meaning weak.

“I’m not,” I said softly.

“I know.”

The way he said it made my breath hitch.

We were in the baby section when I felt it.

That chill.

That familiar pressure behind my eyes.

I turned.

Alicia stood across the aisle, sunglasses pushed up, lips curved in a smile that wasn’t warm.

“Well,” she said. “Look at this.”

Dante stiffened. “I thought you went home.”

“I did,” she replied smoothly. “Then I missed you.”

Her gaze slid to me. Slowly. Possessively. Like she was cataloging every change in my body.

“And I see you’ve been busy.”

Dante’s voice was calm. “You weren’t invited.”

“I never need an invitation.”

She walked closer, heels clicking against the tile. “Is that maternity wear?”

My fingers curled into the fabric of my dress.

Alicia’s eyes slid to my stomach, slow and assessing.

“Back from your doctor already?” she asked lightly.

Dante answered before I could. “Yes. Everything is on track.”

“Of course it is,” she said, her smile thin. “I just came from mine too. Imagine that both of us are getting checked on the same day.”

Her gaze returned to me. “Your body is already changing.”

Dante’s tone stayed calm, controlled. “That’s why I took her shopping. She needs clothes that fit now.”

Alicia’s fingers tightened around her purse strap.

“How thoughtful.”

Dante cut in. “Enough.”

Her smile widened. “Touchy.”

We left shortly after.

But Alicia didn’t.

She followed us back to the mansion.

I went straight to my room. My head was spinning, my body heavy. I barely had time to sit on the bed before the door opened.

She didn’t knock.

“You’re getting comfortable,” Alicia said.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, you just took it.” Her eyes dropped to my stomach. “Do you know what it feels like to watch someone else carry the future you were promised?”

“I’m not stealing anything from you.”

“You’re breathing my air.”

Her hand reached out.

I flinched.

She stopped just short of touching me.

“You’d better remember who he belongs to,” she whispered. “And when this baby is born… so will you.”

Then she left.

I sat there shaking.

Down the hall, I heard her heels again.

Dante’s office door.

His voice.

Her dramatic tone.

“I was just worried,” she said. “After what happened before… I had to make sure you were okay.”

I pressed my ear to the door.

“I am fine,” Dante replied.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m not.”

The door opened.

Alicia walked out, eyes cold.

She smiled at me.

And something in that smile promised war.