He's quiet again. I can feel him choosing his words, weighing them carefully before he speaks. The man who commands boardrooms and terrifies rivals is searching for the right thing to say to me, and the vulnerability in that silence makes my eyes sting.
"Now I think about what it would look like." His thumb resumes its circles on my hip, the touch grounding and tender. "A child with your eyes. Brown and warm and full of the same fierce intelligence that made me want you the moment I saw you. Teaching them to love books the way you do, watching them get lost in stories the way you get lost."
I lift my head to look at him. His gray eyes are soft in the darkness, reflecting the distant lights of the city beyond the windows.
"I think about watching them grow," he continues, his voice roughening with emotion he's not trying to hide. "First steps. First words. First day of school. All the things I never had because my father was gone and my mother was working herself to death just to keep us fed. I want to give a child what I never got. Stability. Safety. A father who shows up."
My heart clenches at the image he's painting. This powerful, dangerous man, softened by the idea of bedtime stories and tiny hands and a family built on love instead of obligation.
"I want that." He cups my face in his palm, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone. "With you. But only when you're ready. Only when you want it too. The contract says a year. But I meantwhat I told you in the beginning. I won't force this. If you decide you don't want children, then that’s it."
"And if I do want them?"
"Then we'll make them." A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "As many as you want. Whenever you're ready."
I settle back against his chest, my mind spinning with possibilities I've never let myself consider. A family. Children. A future that extends beyond survival and debt and the constant fear of Victor's shadow.
For so long, I've been focused on just getting through each day. Paying the next installment. Protecting Gemma and my mother. Surviving. The idea of wanting something more, of hoping for something more, felt like a luxury I couldn't afford.
But Drake has changed that. He's paid my debt. Protected my family. Given me space to breathe for the first time in years. And now he's offering me a future I never dared to imagine.
A future with him.
"I think..." I take a breath, testing the words before I speak them. "I think I might want that. Someday." I settle a hand over my midriff. I’m on birth control. I have been for a few years now to help regulate my body. The idea of leaving that behind so I can conceive makes my insides flutter with hope.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel the shudder that runs through his body. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion.
"Someday is enough. Someday is more than I ever expected."
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. The steady thump beneath my lips is the most comforting sound I've ever heard.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For waiting. For letting me choose. For not making me feel like I owed you this."
"You don't owe me anything, Katriana." He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Not your body. Not a child. Not a single damn thing. Whatever you give me, you give because you want to. That's the only way I want it."
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tight. I've spent so long feeling like currency, yet with him I feel valued and wanted. Jonah made me feel like I owed him my virginity simply because we were dating. Victor made me feel like I owed him my life because my father borrowed money.
But Drake looks at me like I'm a gift he doesn't deserve. Like everything I offer is precious precisely because I'm choosing to offer it.
"I want to give you things," I admit softly. "That's what scares me. I've never wanted to give anyone anything before. I've only ever wanted to protect what was mine."
"And now?"
"Now I want to share it. With you."
He kisses me. Soft and slow and achingly tender. When he pulls back, his gray eyes hold a vulnerability I've never seen before.
He slides from the bed and retreats to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth to clean me and himself. He foldsand places it on the end table before coming back to me and wrapping me in his warmth.
"Get some sleep, little rose. We have time. All the time in the world."
I settle against him, my body heavy with satisfaction and exhaustion. The silk sheets are cool against my skin. His warmth wraps around me like a blanket. The city glitters beyond the windows, and for the first time in years, the world doesn't feel like it wants me six feet under and cold.
My eyes drift closed. Sleep pulls at me, soft and irresistible. But before I surrender to it, one thought crystallizes in my mind with perfect clarity.
