He wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in the fabric of my sweater.
He takes a shuddering breath.
"Mine," he whispers into my belly.
It’s not a question. It’s a decree.
He lifts his head. His eyes are shining. Not with tears—Silas doesn't cry—but with a fanatical, burning light.
"You did this," he says, looking up at me with awe and madness. "You made a legacy."
"Silas," I whisper, touching his hair. "Are you... are you angry?"
"Angry?" He laughs. It’s a jagged, incredulous sound. "I have conquered the city. I have destroyed my enemies. But this..."
He presses a kiss to my stomach. Then another. Then another.
"This is the only thing I didn't have."
He stands up abruptly. The movement is violent in its speed.
He grabs my face.
"Everything changes," he says. "Now."
"What do you mean?"
"The security," he says, his mind already racing, calculating, fortifying. "It’s not enough. We need more guards. We need a medical team here, in the penthouse. You are not leaving this building."
"Silas..."
"No," he cuts me off. "You walked to the bodega today. Alone. Withmy heirinside you."
His face twists with horror.
"If anything had happened to you... if a car had hit you... if someone had touched you..."
He paces the small space of the bathroom, raking his hands through his hair.
"I was careless. I let you have too much freedom."
"Silas, stop," I say, stepping toward him. "I’m fine. The baby is fine."
"You don't know that!" he roars, spinning on me. "We need scans. We need blood work. I need to see it. I need to know it’s safe."
He grabs his phone. He dials a number.
"Luca. Get the medical team. Get Dr. Aris. I want the full OBGYN suite installed in the guest wing. Today. Within the hour."
He listens for a second.
"I don't care if he’s in surgery. Pull him out. Tell him if he’s not here in twenty minutes, I’ll burn his hospital down."
He hangs up.
He looks at me. The look is terrifying. It is total, suffocating obsession.
"You are never leaving my sight again," he vows.
