I watch the city lighten through the blinds, exhaustion a tight ache in my spine. I return to our room and stand over the bed, watching Eden sleep, one hand tucked protectively over her belly.
She’s everything I never thought I could have—light in a life built on darkness, softness in a world of sharp edges.
My thoughts circle her, constant, relentless, always hungry for more. It isn’t just possession anymore. It’s devotion, worship, a drive to protect that scares even me with its intensity.
She wakes as I pull the covers up around her shoulders, her eyes blinking open, a sleepy smile curving her lips.
“You’re here,” she murmurs, reaching for me.
“Of course,” I promise, and this time it’s more than a threat. It’s the only truth I know.
Cortez can send all the shadows he wants. Let him try. I’ll cut them down, one by one, before I let them anywhere near her. The world can burn, so long as she and our child remain untouched.
That’s the vow I carry, silent and sacred, every hour of every day.
***
The ballroom glitters with gold light and tension so thick I can taste it. Suits, gowns, politicians, rivals—all gathered beneath a chandelier worth more than some people’s lives.
My arm is locked around Eden’s waist, her presence at my side both a statement and a shield.
She’s stunning tonight, the silk of her dress draping her curves, the faintest swell of her stomach hidden by clever tailoring. She’s calm, poised, her hand curled over my knuckles as we move through the crowd.
Beneath her calm, I can feel the awareness humming. She knows what’s at stake. She always does.
Cortez waits for us. He’s a parasite who thrives on spectacle, standing in the center of a knot of admirers. He catches sight of us and the smirk on his lips sharpens, cold and amused. His suit is too bright, his smile too white. He steps forward, cutting through the small talk with a flourish.
“Simon Sharov,” he purrs, raising his glass. “I didn’t think you’d brave the wolves tonight.”
He eyes Eden, gaze lingering a second too long, then returns to me with mock sympathy. “Oh, you brought your lovely companion. I hope you’re not finding our party too… stifling, Eden.”
I keep my face blank, my grip tightening almost imperceptibly on her waist. My men fan out, subtle and efficient, closing off any approach from behind. Cortez’s own goons shadow him, eyeing me with ill-concealed dislike.
“Rafael,” I say, voice calm. “I see you haven’t lost your gift for empty conversation.”
His eyes glitter. “I save my best words for special occasions.” He leans closer, his voice dropping. “You know, Simon, I’ve always admired how you hold your composure. Even when it looks like everything you care about might just… slip away.”
Every muscle in my body coils. I want to break his jaw, wipe the smirk from his face and leave him gasping for teeth on the marble floor.
I let the mask slip for half a heartbeat—just long enough for him to see the promise of violence lurking beneath. Then I smile.
“Enjoy your evening,” I say, stepping away, Eden still tucked safe under my arm.
My men form a loose barrier as we move on. I catch the edge of Rafael’s laugh, see the way he tips his head at Eden—a warning, a threat, a challenge I can’t afford to answer here.
The rest of the night is a blur. Faces blend together, laughter ringing too loud, music too bright. I keep Eden close, every sense tuned to her presence, every glance from the crowd a potential danger.
My hands ache from clenching and unclenching. I don’t relax, not even for a second, not until we’re finally back in the car, the city rushing by in dark, silent streaks.
At home, the tension lingers. It’s a second skin, itching, suffocating, raw. I strip off my jacket the moment the door closes behind us, tossing it over a chair, pacing the length of the living room as Eden watches. She doesn’t ask what’s wrong. She doesn’t have to.
She comes to me quietly, her hand brushing my arm, grounding me in a way no one else ever has. The anger and frustration boil under my skin, but she pulls me back, steady as gravity. I stop, drag her against my chest, burying my face in her hair. I breathe her in—citrus and warmth, the scent of safety I never believed I’d find.
Her arms slide around my waist, anchoring me. I let myself sink into her touch, feel the storm inside me settle. I holdher tighter, desperate to memorize the feel of her heartbeat, the certainty of her body pressed against mine.
“You’re safe,” I murmur, mostly for myself. “The party was all for show; we’re fine.”
She lifts her head, fingers tracing my jaw, her eyes gentle and fierce all at once. “I know.”
