The test sat on the bathroom counter like a bomb waiting to go off. I’d stared at it for fifteen minutes before I picked it up.
Two lines.
Clear as day.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just… stared at myself in the mirror, dead silent, heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my throat.
Pregnant.
Me.
Scarlett Royce, the mafia girl who bled out in luxury penthouses and stitched herself back together with revenge. The woman who carved out her place in a world that never wanted her soft, never let her feel safe.
And now\… there was something growing inside me. Something I didn’t build or destroy. Something I didn’t fight for–but that already owned me.
I didn’t know how to feel. So I breathed.
=
I told him during a thunderstorm. Of course it had to be a storm. My life never moved under clear skies.
The rain was slamming against the windows of the penthouse like it wanted in, and Zacharias was at the bar shirtless, pouring himself a glass of whatever liquor he used to chase down the silence.
I stood by the floor–to–ceiling glass, barefoot, one hand resting flat against my stomach. My other clenched around the test in my pocket like a secret I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell.
He noticed the way I was standing. He always did.
“What is it, amore?” he asked, voice low, that deep rumble that made danger sound like a lullaby.
I turned slowly. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My throat felt too full.
I didn’t give him a speech. Didn’t know how to. I just pulled the test out and placed it on the marble counter next to his whiskey.
He didn’t look at it right away. He looked at me. Only me. Like he already knew. When his eyes did drop to the test, he froze.
Chapter 27
12:31 Mon, 19 May GM
林会77%餘
For a second, he didn’t breathe. Then he crossed the room, slow, like I might vanish if he moved too fast.
He sank to his knees in front of me and pressed his forehead against my stomach, arms wrapping around my hips like I was some kind of anchor.
Then he kissed the spot right below my navel and whispered against my skin, “You gave me a reason to live. Now you’ve given me one to live forever.”
That’s when I cried.
And he stayed there, holding me through it. No fanfare. No fireworks. Just his arms, steady and sure, wrapped around the chaos in my chest.
We didn’t announce anything. Not to the underworld. Not to friends. Not even to his men.
It was ours. Fiercely ours.
Zacharias became something new after that. He was still a killer. Still the man who made grown men weep just by walking into a room. But now, he talked to my belly like it was already royalty. Rubbed my back at night like it was sacred.
Every morning he’d kiss my neck and murmur, “Still alive. Still mine. Both of you.”
The baby came during another storm.
Figures.
I was screaming and cursing him halfway through the contractions, clawing at his hand while lightning cracked the sky behind the hospital windows.
“Zacharias, you absolute bastard–this is your fault-”
He laughed. The sick bastard actually laughed.
“I’ll take the blame if it means you keep breathing, cuore mio.”
And then I heard it. That sound. That first wail.
Tiny. Raw. Real.
I stopped breathing for a second. Then I cried harder than I had in years.
Zacharias cut the cord himself. The doctor handed him our son, and he looked at that small, furious creature like he’d just been handed the universe.
Then he passed him to me, carefully, like I was made of porcelain and fire.
Chapter 27
12:31 Mon, 19 May GM.
77%
“You did this,” he whispered, brushing sweat–drenched hair from my face. “You
made him. You brought him here. My god, Scarlett… look at him.”
I held the baby against my chest, eyes closed, heart open.
Zacharias sat on the edge of the bed, one arm around me, the other around our
son.
Outside, the storm kept howling. But inside that hospital room, everything was quiet. Warm.
He kissed my temple, his voice barely audible. “You’re everything I never deserved. And everything I’ll protect until my last breath.”
I tilted my head into him, tired, aching, but whole.
“You better,” I murmured. “Because I just made you a father. That means you don’t get to die stupid anymore.”
He chuckled softly, the kind that vibrated in his chest and settled into mine.
We didn’t need vows. We didn’t need rings. We had scars, blood, and now–this
boy.
Born under thunder.
Raised by fire.
Ours. Completely.
