All Chapters of SINFUL SALVATION : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The penthouse felt different when we returned.It was the same place—the same floor-to-ceiling windows, the same marble floors, the same black silk sheets. But the shadows had lifted. The air was lighter. The cage had become a home.Drake was discharged from the hospital after four days. The doctors had cleared him for recovery at home, with strict instructions for rest and physical therapy. His shoulder was wrapped in a heavy bandage, his arm in a sling. He was pale, tired, but alive.I helped him into the penthouse, guiding him gently to the sofa. He sank into the leather with a heavy sigh, his head falling back, his eyes closing.“I never thought I’d be happy to see this place,” he murmured.“Neither did I,” I admitted, sitting beside him. I took his good hand, lacing my fingers through his. “But it feels different now. It feels like ours.”He opened his eyes, looking at me. A soft, tired smile tugged at his lips. “It feels like ours because you’re here. You make everything feel li

The pain hit me at 3:17 AM.I woke up to a sharp, twisting cramp that seized my lower back and wrapped around my belly like a vice. I gasped, my hand flying to my stomach, the sheets damp with sweat beneath me.No, I thought, my heart racing. Not yet. It's too early. I still have a week to go.But the pain didn't fade. It built, crested, and then slowly receded, leaving me panting and trembling.I knew what this was.Water breaking, I thought, my hand sliding down between my legs. The sheets were wet—not from sweat. From fluid.Holy shit."Drake," I whispered. My voice was shaking. "Drake, wake up."He stirred beside me, a low grumble in his throat. "Mmm... what is it, baby?""Drake." I shook his shoulder. "Drake, wake up. The baby. The baby is coming."His eyes snapped open.He sat up so fast he nearly fell off the bed. He looked at me, at my sweaty face, at my hand gripping my belly. His grey eyes were wide, his face pale."What?" His voice cracked. "What do you mean, the baby is co

Coming home with Leo was like stepping into a different world.The penthouse looked the same—the marble floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the black silk sheets—but it felt different. The air was warmer. The shadows had retreated. The cage had become a nest.I walked through the front door with Leo cradled in my arms, wrapped in a soft white blanket, his tiny face scrunched in a peaceful sleep. Drake walked behind me, carrying the diaper bag and a mountain of baby supplies we had bought in a panicked, pre-birth shopping spree.“He’s so small,” Drake whispered, his voice hushed with awe, as if he was afraid of waking the baby. “How is he so small?”“He’s going to grow,” I said, smiling. “He’s going to be as big and terrifying as you one day.”“God, I hope not,” Drake muttered.We laid Leo in the crib in the nursery. He stirred slightly, his tiny fists waving, but he didn’t wake. The fairy lights twinkled above him, casting soft, golden shadows across his face.Drake and I stood side

She arrived on a Tuesday afternoon, exactly one week after her letter.I had not told Drake about the letter. I had kept it hidden in my nightstand drawer, folded between the pages of a baby book, waiting. I needed to see her first. I needed to judge her before Drake’s desperate, naive hope clouded his vision.When the doorbell rang, I was holding Leo in the nursery. Drake was in the study, finishing a call. I heard the elevator ding, the soft click of heels on marble, and a voice—low, cultured, dripping with practiced elegance.“Hello, Drake. It’s been far too long.”I walked to the living room, Leo cradled against my chest.Vivienne Ashford was standing in the center of the penthouse, her hands clasped delicately in front of her. She was tall, slender, dressed in a tailored cream suit that looked like it cost more than my entire life on the streets. Her silver hair was swept into an elegant chignon. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes—sharp, grey, piercing—were as cold as wint

Vivienne invited Drake to lunch on Thursday.She had called him that morning, her voice warm and honeyed. “I would love to get to know you better, Drake. Just the two of us. We have so much catching up to do.”Drake had looked at me, his grey eyes soft and hopeful. “Do you mind? I won’t be long.”I had wanted to say no. I had wanted to scream She is poisoning you, can’t you see it? But I had seen the desperate, childlike need in his eyes. The need for a grandmother. The need for a family that loved him.“Go,” I had said, my voice tight. “Just… be careful.”He had kissed my forehead and left.---He came back three hours later.He was quiet. Distant. He walked into the penthouse, shrugged off his coat, and sat on the sofa without a word.I was in the nursery, rocking Leo, who was fussy and restless. I heard Drake’s footsteps, but he didn’t come in. He sat in the living room, staring at the wall.I put Leo down for a nap and walked out to join him.“How was lunch?” I asked, sitting besi