His voice cracks, and I see it—the guilt, the self-loathing. Maybe even love.
Good. Maybe there’s something salvageable in him after all.
“Then go prove it,” I say. “To her. Not me.”
He nods quickly, eyes glassy, and scurries away.
Then I hear her voice.
“I already know.”
I turn. She’s standing in the doorway, stunning in a silk and lace white gown that fits her like a secret. Her hair is pinned with white flowers, her lips painted a soft rose, and her eyes—God, her eyes—are shimmering with pride.
She walks straight up to me. Her hand goes to my chest, over my heart.
“You did that for him?” she whispers.
“I did it for you.”
She kisses me, slow and deep, and I’m gone.
When she pulls back, there’s a smile on her lips I’ve never seen before.
“I’m proud of you,” she says. “And I’m grateful. You could’ve handled it a hundred different ways. But you chose this one.”
I nod, throat tight.
“Once,” I murmur, “I would’ve handled it with bullets.”
“I know.”
She rests her forehead against mine.
“But now, because of you,” I say, “I want to be better. For you. For us.”
She smiles again. “That new Luca is going to be good for all three of us.”
I blink. “Three?”
She pulls back, cheeks pink, eyes shining.
“I’m pregnant.”
Time stops.
I’ve stared death in the face. Walked into gunfire. Watched men break beneath me, and never once blinked. But this?
This shakes me.
The words echo in my head like a dropped glass shattering against marble. Pregnant. She’s Pregnant. With a child.Ourchild.
It hits me all at once, what it means. What it changes and what itgivesme.
A future I never expected.
Not just with Erin, but something more permanent than power. Something greater than territory or blood. A life beyond this empire. A legacy that doesn’t have to be drenched in violence.
I stare at her, trying to memorize every detail. Her flushed cheeks, the nervous twist of her fingers, the way she’s waiting for me to say something. Tofeelsomething.
