This is what life is all about, and no one will take it away from me. Not even Zoe.
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Zoe
It’s been a few months since everything shifted between us. Since the night I stood at his door, apologized, and climbed back into a bed that no longer felt like a cage. Since the night I found him in his study drinking and pulled him back to bed because I genuinely wanted him there.
The fear I once held—that sharp, splintered thing—has dulled into something else. Something softer. Warmer. Familiar, even. The house is quieter these days. Still heavily guarded, still Bratva at its bones, but there’s peace in the walls now. Or maybe it’s just me that’s changed. Lukin’s family don’t really stay around as much and I’m shocked that I’m actually missing Adrian’s teasing and Katia’s friendly smiles.
Most mornings, I wake up before the sun, pad barefoot into the kitchen, and sip warm tea while the sky softens into color.
Today is no different.
I’m humming quietly to myself, one hand resting on my huge baby bump as I reach up to grab a jar from a higher shelf. Warm arms wrap around me from behind, and I squeal when Lukin’s cologne takes up the air.
One of his hands comes to rest over mine on my belly. His other arm loops around my waist like a silent vow. Then I feel the brush of his chin against my shoulder—light, casual, intimate.
And just like that, the world slows down.
I don’t speak.
I just lean back into him.
This, like my morning tea, is another routine. One I love so much. Lukin doesn’t pass up any chance to hold me, or touch my belly. I’m over eight months pregnant now and the baby will come anytime now. Somehow, I can’t wait to see the magic we created together. And in another part of my mind, I fear things would change after the baby and Lukin will not be as affectionate. Afterall, he only married me for the baby.
I like it. For goodness’s sake, I like when he touches me like this. Like the quiet power in his arms, the way his presence wraps around me like gravity—inevitable, steady, anchoring. I like the heat of him behind me, the weight of his hand over mine, how my pulse doesn’t race with fear anymore, but with something dangerously close to longing.
And somewhere, in the messy corners of my heart—the parts I’ve tried so hard to keep locked up—a terrifying, beautiful truth begins to settle in.
I’m falling for him.
Maybe I already have.
Before the moment can stretch too long, a sound breaks the quiet—
The front door opens. Lukin stiffens behind me.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I ask.
“No. Hold on, I’ll check.” He starts to walk towards the front door, and I follow behind him, a slight frown on my face. We both freeze when we enter the living room.
Maria stands in the doorway.
She’s dressed in all black, suitcase by her side, her sharp eyes raking over me—my face, my body, the swell of my stomach. She doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares. And I can feel her judgment like a slap.
She’s not surprised.
She’s angry.
She’s hurt.
Then she looks at Lukin—her father. Her voice cuts through the air like a blade.
“What the fuck, Dad!”
“Language,” Lukin scolds, and I groan. This is the worst time to correct her about anything.
“Maria, I—”
“Zoe, please!” Maria snaps at me, her gaze on her father. “You know, I heard about the remarriage and have been giving you time to tell me. You didn’t. The worst part is that you married my friend? Really?”
