As we drive away, I watch the mansion disappear in the rearview mirror. The lights twinkling. The snow falling softly.
"So, we have a week with the penthouse to ourselves."
His hand tightens on the steering wheel. "Yes. We do."
"What are we going to do with all that privacy?"
"I have some ideas." He glances at me, eyes dark. "A lot of ideas."
"I'm listening."
We drive through the snowy night, heading home. To our home. The one we'll share. The life we're building together.
And I think: this is what home feels like.
Not a place. Not a building.
Home is him. Home is us. Home is the family we're creating.
Even if it started with a kidnapping.
Jemma
Epilogue
Six months later, I'm sitting in Konstantin's office in the penthouse, supposedly studying for my licensing exam, but really just staring at my stomach.
Five months pregnant. A small, undeniable bump that Konstantin can't stop touching.
The door opens and he walks in, still in his suit from whatever meeting he just finished. His eyes immediately go to where my hand rests on my belly.
"Studying?" he asks.
"Trying to. The baby keeps distracting me."
He crosses the room, kneels in front of my chair, and places both hands on my stomach. "How is she today?"
"She? We don't know the gender yet."
"It's a girl. I know it."
"Your mother says it's a boy."
"My mother is wrong." He leans forward and presses a kiss to my bump. "Aren't you, little one? You're going to be a girl who looks just like your mama."
I run my fingers through his hair. "How was your meeting?"
"Productive. Boring. I wanted to be here with you."
"You've been working from home a lot."
"Because you're here." He looks up at me. "I like being close to you. Knowing you're safe."
"I'm safe in our home. You don't need to hover."
"I'm not hovering. I'm being attentive."
"You checked on me four times today."
