All Chapters of The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

(Livia’s POV)It happens on a quiet Thursday morning at thirty-six weeks.I’m in the kitchen, perched on a stool because standing too long makes my ankles swell like balloons, eating the only thing that sounds good lately, vanilla yogurt with crushed salted pretzels sprinkled on top. Alexander is at the island behind me, reading quarterly reports on his tablet while intermittently rubbing slow circles on my lower back with his free hand.The chef has the morning off. The penthouse is silent except for the soft clink of my spoon and the occasional kick from Sandra against my ribs.Then my phone buzzes.A single notification from the secure server I still control, the one that houses every skeleton Theo ever buried.A new file has been auto-forwarded to my encrypted drop folder. An anonymous tip. Timestamped 3:14 a.m.I open it without thinking.It’s everything.Three years of cooked books at Whitford Tech. Falsified revenue reports. Offshore shell companies funneling investor money int

(Livia’s POV)The full, unedited Heathrow footage leaks at 3:47 p.m. twenty minutes after the first grainy clip went viral.Someone with airport security access uploads the entire twenty-three-minute sequence to a private server, and within minutes it’s mirrored everywhere. By the time I open the link Alexander quietly forwards me (no comment, just the URL), it’s already at 12 million views.I watch it once, all the way through.Alexander sits beside me on the couch, silent, his hand resting on my belly as Sandra shifts lazily. He doesn’t watch the screen. He watches me.The video begins at the first-class check-in desk.Amara approaches with the practiced sway she perfected for red carpets, chin high, smile already forming for whoever might recognize her. She’s dressed for escape: neutral linen wide-leg pants, oversized cream cashmere sweater slipping off one shoulder, Hermès Birkin on her arm, Louis Vuitton carry-on trailing behind like a loyal pet.The agent, a young woman with a n

(Livia’s POV)I wake up at 2:03 a.m. because something feels wrong.The room is dark, just the faint orange glow from the city lights slipping through the curtains. Alexander is asleep behind me, one arm heavy across my belly like always, his breathing slow and steady.I lie there, waiting for the usual little kicks. Sandra’s been quieter the last few days, the doctor said it’s normal at this time because she’s running out of space but I always feel something. A nudge. A roll. Anything.Tonight… nothing.I shift a little, pressing my hand where she usually pushes back.Still nothing.My heart starts thumping hard against my ribs.I wait. Five minutes. Ten.Nothing.The panic comes fast, cold, sharp, squeezing my chest until I can barely breathe.I turn over slowly, careful not to wake him too suddenly, and touch his cheek.“Alex.”His eyes snap open. He’s awake in half a second, sitting up, already reading my face.“She’s not moving,” I whisper.His face changes in an instant, color d

It’s late, around 11:30 p.m. and the penthouse is quiet except for the low hum of the city far below. I’m restless, hormonal, and honestly just done with being pregnant. My back hurts, my feet are balloons, and Sandra has decided my bladder is her personal trampoline.Alexander is in the bedroom, already in gray sweatpants and nothing else, reading something on his tablet with that little frown he gets when he’s focused. The lamp on his side casts warm light across his shoulders, the tattoo on his ribs (the white rose with the date he first fell for me), and I stop in the doorway just to look at him.He glances up, catches me staring, and one corner of his mouth lifts.“You okay?” he asks.I shake my head.“No. I’m hot. I’m uncomfortable. And I want you.”His tablet hits the nightstand in record time.He’s across the room in three steps, hands gentle on my hips.“Tell me what you need,” he says, voice already dropping lower.I don’t answer with words. I just push him backward toward t

(Livia’s POV)I wake up at 2:47 a.m. because my bladder is screaming and my back feels like someone parked a truck on it. Sandra has decided my ribs are her new playground. Every kick is a little reminder that she’s growing fast, getting stronger, and probably already bossy like her dad.I slip out of bed carefully. Alexander is still asleep beside me, one arm thrown over the pillow I usually use. His breathing is deep and even. In the soft glow from the hallway light, I can see the scar on his shoulder from some old fight he never talks about. I like looking at him when he’s like this, quiet, unguarded. It’s the only time the world doesn’t see the ruthless Alexander Kane. Just a man who chose me when he didn’t have to.I pad to the bathroom, do what I need to do, wash my hands, and splash cold water on my face. The mirror shows a woman who looks tired but… alive. My belly is huge now, round and firm. Stretch marks like faint silver lightning across the sides. I run my hand over them