I stood there for a long moment, her words echoing in my head. Choosing something real. Was that what I'd done? It hadn't felt like a choice at the time—more like gravity, pulling me toward Keira with a force I couldn't resist.
But maybe that was what choice looked like, when it mattered. Not a calculated decision, but a surrender to something stronger than calculation.
***
I found Keira in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, the bottle of vitamins still clutched in her hands.
"Hey." I sat beside her, close enough that our shoulders touched. "How are you feeling?"
"Strange." She set the bottle on the nightstand. "It's more real now. Before it was just a test, just a word. Now someone's examined me and confirmed it and given me vitamins. There's actually a baby in there."
"There is." I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together. "Does that scare you?"
"Yes."
"Me too."
She looked at me, surprise flickering in her expression. "What scares you about it?"
"Everything." I stared at our joined hands, trying to find words for feelings I didn't fully understand. "I never thought I'd have children. Never planned for it. The life I live—the things I've done—I didn't think I'd be here."
"And now?"
"Now I'm terrified I'll fail. That I'll be like my father—present but absent, providing everything except what actually matters." I shook my head. "I don't know how to be a father. I'm not sure I know how to be anything except what I've always been."
"What you've always been isn't all you are." Her voice was soft. "I've seen other parts of you. The man who cooks dinner and talks about poetry and holds me when I can't sleep. That man would be a good father."
"You sound very certain."
"I'm a psychologist. Reading people is my job."
I smiled despite myself. "And what does your professional assessment tell you?"
"That you're more than you think you are. That you've spent so long playing a role, you've forgotten there's something underneath it." She squeezed my hand. "I see what's underneath. I've seen it since the first session."
I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know how to hold the weight of being seen so clearly by someone I hadn't even known existed two months ago.
"I should let you rest," I said finally. "Doctor's orders."
"Stay. Just for a while."
So I stayed. We lay on the bed together, not sleeping, just existing in the same space. Her head on my shoulder, my arm around her waist, the afternoon light painting patterns on the ceiling.
***
Later, after she'd fallen into a light doze, I slipped out to check on business.
Yegor was waiting in the study with updates—surveillance reports, personnel movements, the usual flow of information that kept the operation running. I listened with half my attention, the other half still back in the bedroom with Keira.
"The operation against Cormac," Yegor said. "We should finalize the timeline."
"Tomorrow. I want everything in place by tomorrow."
He nodded, unsurprised. "I'll have the teams ready."
After he left, I stood at the window and watched the city. Somewhere out there, Cormac O'Shea was plotting his next move. The Petrovics were waiting, watching, planning something I couldn't see yet. Threats circled like sharks, drawn by the blood in the water.
But here, in this penthouse, something else was growing. Something small and fragile and entirely unexpected.
