"Samantha came to see me at my apartment."
His entire body goes rigid. "What? Samantha? At your place?"
I nod, watching his face transform from relaxation to complete shock.
"She showed up at my door yesterday afternoon while Poppy was there. She wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" He sounds genuinely bewildered. "For the restaurant? For what she said to you?"
"Yes, but it was more than that." I sit up slightly, pulling the throw blanket tighter around me. "She told me she had a fight with Victoria. A big one. Victoria apparently bragged to her about sabotaging my deal with Vance."
Grant's expression darkens. "She what?"
"Victoria was proud of it, Grant. Laughing about it. And Samantha was horrified." I take his hand, squeezing it gently. "She came to tell me that none of this was my fault. That she was wrong about me, about us."
He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. "Jesus. I can't believe she would do that. Samantha's always been so loyal to Victoria, even when—" He stops, shaking his head. "Even when Victoria was manipulating her."
"She was different. Vulnerable. She told me that she was sorry for how she treated me, that she knows now I wasn't using you for your money." I pause, remembering the raw honesty in Samantha's eyes.
"What's really amazing is that she defended you, Grant. She told me that you're nothing like Victoria—that you offer help because you can't stand to see people you love struggle, not to control them." I shake my head, still unable to believe she actually came over and told me all that. "She said I shouldn't give up on you because I was scared. That you're worth more than that."
Grant's eyes widen slightly, his expression softening. "She really said that?"
"She did. And it really made me think about what was actually happening between us." I take a deep breath. "I wasn't seeing things clearly. My brain was just... spiraling with fear, connecting dots that weren't really there. When Samantha talked about the difference between how Victoria uses money as a weapon and how you offer support—it helped me see it all differently."
Grant pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "That means more than you know."
We lie together in comfortable silence for a moment, his heartbeat steady under my ear. The twins flutter again, and I guide his hand to my belly.
His eyes widen as he feels another flutter under his palm and he smiles. "That feeling will never get old," he says, his expression filled with awe.
I agree. "I never realized how cool it would feel. Like butterfly wings, but from the inside." I place my hand over his.
My stomach growls loudly, interrupting our moment.
"Was that you or the twins?" Grant laughs.
"Definitely me," I admit, feeling my cheeks warm. "I haven't eaten much today. I was too nervous about coming here."
"Well, we can't have that." Grant sits up, gently pulling me with him. "You need to eat. The babies need to eat."
"I'm starving," I confess, suddenly aware of the hollow feeling in my stomach. After days of barely touching food, my appetite has returned with a vengeance.
"Then let's get you fed." Grant stands and helps me to my feet, his hands lingering on my waist. "Marcello's?"
"Oh, yes." My mouth waters at the thought of our favorite Italian restaurant. "Their gnocchi sounds amazing right now."
We get dressed quickly, stealing glances and small touches as we put ourselves back together. Grant helps me with my sweater, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that makes me shiver despite having just been thoroughly satisfied.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst. For the first time in weeks, I can see the path forward for us—not perfect, but real. His fingers intertwine with mine, and I squeeze them gently, feeling the solid warmth of his palm against my own. This is what certainty feels like.
Chapter 26
Emma
The elevator doors slide open on the thirty-fourth floor, and my stomach does a nervous flip.
Athena Capital Partners. The brass lettering on the wall gleams under recessed lighting, elegant and understated. The reception area is all clean lines and natural materials—warm wood, soft leather, a stunning arrangement of white orchids on the desk.
