“Eight pounds. Maybe nine.”
She pulls back to stare at me. Those hazel eyes wide. Shocked. “You can tell that just by—?”
“I know your body.” I hold her gaze. Let her see the truth in my eyes. The possession. The certainty. “I know every inch of you. How you felt that first night when I carried you drunk to bed. How you felt after. How you feel now. How you’ll feel when you’re full with our baby.”
Her breath hitches. “Anton—”
“Every night in Moscow,malyshka. Every fucking night.” I keep walking, pulling her higher against my chest. “This is all I thought about. Coming home to you. To this.”
The elevator arrives. Doors sliding open. I step inside, hit the button for our floor with my elbow.
She’s watching me. Studying my face like she’s trying to memorize it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
The elevator rises. Smooth. Silent. And all I can focus on is the weight of her in my arms. The way she fits. The way she’s looking at me like I’m something worth keeping.
I carried bodies in Moscow. Three of them. Igor’s men. Dead weight. Cold. Stiff.
This is the opposite of that.
This is warm. Alive. Everything I fought to get back to.
The doors open. I carry her down the hall. Our hall. To our door.
She reaches out. Unlocks it for me.
I kick it open. Step inside. Kick it closed behind us.
Home.
I’m home.
The penthouse is dark except for the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Vegas glowing beneath us. But I don’t look at the view. Only at her.
“Anton,” she whispers.
I don’t answer. Just keep walking. Through the living room. Past the kitchen. Straight to our bedroom.
I push the door open with my shoulder. The room is dim. Soft. The bed exactly where I left it two weeks ago.
I move to the edge of the mattress. Lower her slowly. Carefully. Like she’s something precious that might break.
Because she is.
Her back meets the bed. I lean over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other still cradling her hip.
“Hi,” I say quietly.
She smiles through tears. “Hi.”
I brush my thumb across her cheek. Catch a tear before it falls. “No more crying.”
“I can’t help it. You’re here.”
