“Azlyn,” he breathed, voice low and rough.“We have to go, love.You’re in danger.I need to get you both to safety.”
Azlyn stared up at him, tears shimmering in her blue eyes.Even with the dark circles and tension etched across her face, her beauty hadn’t dimmed.She was still his Azlyn… just exhausted, worn thin.
“I can’t… I just…!”
“Now, Azlyn.We have to gonow!” Zayn urged, his hands moving from her face to her upper arms, anchoring her.“The hit-and-run last night wasn’t an accident.My security team uncovered evidence—someone washiredto kill your boss.”
“Not my boss,” Azlyn corrected automatically, her brows furrowing.“But… what do you mean?What evidence?”
“We’ll discuss it once you’re safe, okay?”His rough, insistent voice softened slightly.
Azlyn’s gaze swept the area for the first time, finally registering the full tactical squad standing guard.To her credit, she didn’t flinch.But she did edge back, one hand instinctively patting the baby tucked close to her body.
“I need to get stuff for Griffin,” she said quickly.
The name hit Zayn like a gut punch.
His grip tightened on her arms, lifting her slightly until they were eye to eye.“I don’t give a damn about yourboyfriend, Azlyn.He can rot.I’m only here to protectyou.”
Azlyn’s hand came up and touched his cheek, calming his fury with a single gesture.Slightly.
He was still furious.Still haunted by the memory of her walking away from him last year when all he’d asked was for her to stay.To trust him.To build a future together.
“Griffin isn’t my boyfriend, Zayn,” she whispered.
And then her hand fell away.Her eyes dropped too.Confused, Zayn followed her gaze—and finally saw it.
A baby.
Wriggling.Wailing.Tucked securely in that odd grey-blue fabric wrapped across her torso.
Somewhere in the adrenaline and urgency, he’d lost track of the child—forgotten that she was even holding him.But now, the reality struck hard.
Griffin wasn’t a boyfriend.
Griffin was ababy.
More specifically… their baby.
“Griffin isourson,” she said quietly.
Everything else faded.Zayn barely registered the people moving around him—his guards, the street, the tension.The only thing echoing in his mind wasour son.Over and over again.A drumbeat he couldn’t stop hearing.
He had a son.
He was a father.
The baby wiggled and wailed in protest, face red and scrunched with fury.Zayn stared.He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Dark hair.His hair.
And those eyes.
Not Azlyn’s stunning blue with flecks of gold—but deep, dark, familiar.Zayn’s eyes.
His heir.
Theheir.
