The Reaper's Hidden Heir의 모든 챕터: 챕터 71 - 챕터 80

The ultrasound monitor glowed softly in the private medical wing of the fortress, the rapid heartbeat filling the sterile room like a war drum. I lay on the examination table, Damien’s hand gripping mine so tightly I could feel his pulse racing against my skin. The doctor pointed to the tiny flicker on the screen.“Strong and healthy,” she said with a cautious smile. “Six weeks along. You’ll need to be more careful with the… lifestyle.”Damien’s grey eyes never left the screen, something primal and possessive darkening his expression. When the doctor left, he didn’t speak. He simply pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck as if the world outside might steal this fragile new life at any moment.“A son or daughter,” he whispered, voice rough. “In our world.”I threaded my fingers through his hair, feeling the tension coiled in his body. “Our child won’t grow up like we did. We’ll make sure of it.”His hand slid down to rest protectively over my stomach. The kiss that follow

The Sicilian villa felt like a gilded cage. Beautiful, isolated, and surrounded by armed men loyal to us. I stood on the balcony overlooking the turquoise sea, one hand resting on the gentle swell of my stomach. The morning sickness had worsened overnight, and the latest bloodwork from our private doctor confirmed what Seraphina had taunted us with a rare genetic marker in the Moretti bloodline that could complicate the pregnancy if not carefully managed.Damien hadn’t left my side for more than ten minutes since we arrived. He appeared behind me now, wrapping his arms around my waist, his large hand covering mine over our child. His lips brushed my temple.“The doctor says rest and the new medication should stabilize things,” he murmured, but I heard the tension beneath the calm. “We’re flying in a specialist from Switzerland tomorrow.”I leaned back against his chest. “She’s playing with us, Damien. Seraphina knows exactly how to hurt me. Using my own child…”His grip tightened. “T

The Sicilian villa had become a fortress within a fortress. Seraphina and Lucian were locked in the deepest cells, heavily guarded and under constant surveillance, yet the victory felt hollow. The Phantom Council’s final message still burned in my mind: *We are everywhere.*I stood in the nursery we had begun preparing in secret, soft grey walls, a crib made of dark wood, and one of my paintings hanging above it — stormy seas meeting a blood-red sky. My hand rested on the swell of my stomach, now noticeably rounded at nearly four months. The baby kicked hard, as if sensing the tension that never fully left our lives.Damien entered quietly, his presence filling the room like shadows at dusk. He came up behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, hands gently covering mine. His lips brushed my neck.“You shouldn’t be on your feet this long,” he murmured, but there was no real command in his voice. He had learned slowly that ordering his pregnant queen around usually ended with her pinnin

The silence in the mountain safe house was heavier than the snow piling against the windows. I stood frozen in the center of the living room, the destroyed tablet still smoking on the floor where Damien had crushed it. My hand rested protectively over the swell of my belly, where our daughter kicked as if sensing the storm brewing between her parents.“Project Reaper,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me.”Damien didn’t move at first. The Reaper, the man who had once kidnapped me, broken me, then rebuilt me into his queen, looked almost… broken. His grey eyes, usually so cold and calculating, held a rare shadow of guilt.He finally spoke, voice low and rough. “It was before I took you, before I even knew you existed. Marco approached me five years ago with an offer. He wanted an alliance, in exchange, he promised me power, territory, and something else.”He paused, jaw clenching.“A child, an engineered heir. He said the Moretti bloodline had been… modified over generati

The mountain safe house had become our universe. Snow blanketed the peaks outside, isolating us from the world, but the threats inside our walls felt heavier than the storm. At six and a half months pregnant, my body was a battlefield of its own, aching back, swollen ankles, and a daughter who kicked like she was already training to survive the underworld she would inherit.I lay propped against a mountain of pillows in our reinforced bedroom, monitors quietly tracking the baby’s heartbeat. Damien hadn’t left the room in two days. He sat beside me now, one hand resting possessively on the curve of my belly, the other scrolling through encrypted reports on his tablet. The Reaper looked exhausted, but the fire in his grey eyes burned hotter than ever.“She’s moving again,” he murmured, a rare softness breaking through the tension as our daughter gave a strong kick against his palm. “She knows her father’s here.”I covered his hand with mine. “She knows both her parents are fighting for