"The arranged marriage. Being forced to marry me. How it all started."
He was quiet for a moment, his hand moving in slow circles on her stomach. Their daughter kicked, and he smiled.
"Every day," he finally said.
Advika stiffened. "What?"
"I regret that you were forced into it. That neither of us had a choice. That I wasted months being an idiot, pushing you away, making you feel unwanted." His hand pressed flat, feeling another kick. "I regret that I didn't choose you from the start. That I couldn't see what was right in front of me."
"But?"
"But you choose me now," she said, understanding.
"Every day. Every moment." He shifted, propping himself up to look at her. "You and this little one—you're my world. My everything. And if I could go back and change how we started, I wouldn't. Because every moment—good and bad, easy and hard—led us here. To this."
Advika's eyes filled with tears. Damn pregnancy hormones made her cry at everything.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too." He leaned down to kiss her belly. "Both of you. More than I ever thought possible."
"Show me," she said.
"Baby, you're exhausted. We don't have to—"
"I want to." Her hand found his, guiding it higher. "Please. I need you."
He understood. This need to connect, to reaffirm their bond before their lives changed forever with the arrival of their child. This desire to be close in the most intimate way possible.
"Okay," he said softly. "But we're doing this my way. Slow, gentle, careful."
He positioned them on their sides, facing each other, his hand never leaving her belly. When he entered her, it was with exquisite care, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Perfect," she breathed.
He moved slowly, each thrust deliberate and controlled. His hand stayed on her stomach, feeling their daughter move. The intimacy of it—making love while their baby was right there between them—was overwhelming.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "I know everyone says that to pregnant women, but with you, it's true. You've never been more beautiful than you are right now. Carrying our child. Glowing with life and love."
"I feel like a whale."
"You feel perfect." His hand slid from her belly to her face, cupping her cheek. "You look like a goddess. My goddess. The mother of my child. The love of my life."
She came quietly, gently, pleasure washing through her in soft waves. He followed soon after, her name a whispered prayer on his lips.
They stayed connected, wrapped around each other, his hand returning to her belly.
"I can't wait to meet the little one," he said. "Our baby."
"Two more months."
"I know. And I'm terrified."
"You? Terrified?" She raised an eyebrow. "The ruthless mafia king?"
"Terrified of being a father. Of screwing this up. Of not being enough." His voice was raw with vulnerability. "What if I don't know how to be what our baby needs?"
