The second night felt colder than the first.
Leah stood near the window of their bedroom, fingers lightly resting against the glass. The mansion grounds stretched into darkness, security lights glowing faintly along the perimeter. Every pair of headlights that passed beyond the gates made her heart lift—
—and then fall again.
He hadn't come home.
Two days.
Two days since he pressed a kiss to her forehead and promised, I will return soon.
Behind her, the room was quiet. Too quiet. His side of the bed remained untouched.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said gently, not turning.
Elias stepped inside, composed as always, but his eyes carried quiet observation. "You haven't slept."
"I have," she replied automatically.
He glanced at the bed. "Not properly."
Silence stretched between them.
"He's still at the secondary headquarters?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And Dante?"
"With him."
She nodded slowly.
Elias stepped closer but stopped at a respectful distance. "You should rest, Leah."
"I will," she said softly. "When he comes home."
Elias studied her profile. "He said he would."
"I know."
"But you're afraid he won't."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the glass.
"I'm afraid," she admitted quietly, "that something is wrong."
Not with the business.
With him.
With them.
A wave of dizziness rolled through her suddenly. She inhaled sharply and steadied herself against the window frame.
Elias moved instantly. "Leah."
"I'm fine," she said quickly, forcing a small smile. "Just tired."
His eyes lingered on her. "You're not just tired."
Her breath caught.
For a second—just one second—she almost said it.
I'm pregnant.
The words hovered at the edge of her lips.
But she swallowed them.
"I'm fine," she repeated, softer now.
Elias didn't push. He never did.
"Security patrol has been doubled," he informed her instead. "There were reports of unusual movement near the outer perimeter."
Her hand instinctively moved to her abdomen.
Unusual movement.
Leah nodded. "Good."
She wasn't just protecting herself anymore.
That realization settled heavily in her chest.
After Elias left, she sat slowly on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and her eyes drifted to the empty space beside her.
She placed her hand gently against her stomach.
"I wanted to tell you first," she whispered.
Her phone rested on the nightstand. She picked it up, staring at his name in her messages.
She typed:
I have something important to tell you.
She erased it.
Typed again:
Are you okay?
Deleted.
Finally:
Please come home soon.
Her thumb hovered over send.
She locked the screen instead.
"I'll tell you when you're here," she murmured. "I'll tell you properly."
But doubt crept in.
How would he react?
Would he see it as joy?
Or danger?
Would he think she was more vulnerable now?
Would he blame himself for not being there when she found out?
A sudden wave of nausea hit her. She leaned forward slightly, breathing through it.
"Easy," she whispered to herself. "You're okay."
Across the city, fluorescent lights buzzed over a long conference table scattered with documents and digital displays.
Izana hadn't slept.
Dante stood across from him, scrolling through encrypted reports.
"It's confirmed," Dante said. "Leah's parents transferred funds to the rival subsidiary three weeks ago. Indirect channels. Clean enough to avoid suspicion—until now."
Izana's expression didn't change.
"And the data leak?" he asked quietly.
"Internal. Someone was paid."
Silence settled heavily in the room.
"They're coordinating timing," Dante continued. "Every move they've made happened right after you shifted focus to Leah's security."
Izana's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"They're trying to separate you," Dante said carefully. "Emotionally. Operationally."
The curse beneath his skin stirred violently.
A sudden sharp pulse tore through his chest.
He gripped the edge of the table.
Dante's eyes flicked up. "It's happening again."
Izana didn't answer.
Another pulse.
Stronger.
Not anger.
Not threat.
Distress.
"…She's not fine," he said quietly.
"You can't know that."
"I can."
Dante exhaled slowly. "If you leave now, they'll push harder."
"And if I don't?" Izana asked softly.
Dante didn't respond.
Because they both knew the answer.
Back at the estate, Leah stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection.
She looked pale.
Tired.
But there was something else in her eyes now.
Fragility mixed with something new.
She placed both hands over her abdomen.
"You're going to be a father," she whispered to the empty room.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"I don't know how you'll react."
She imagined him finding out.
His stillness.
His sharp focus.
Would he pull her closer?
Or would he become colder, more controlled, more dangerous to the world?
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Leah?" Elias' voice. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she replied quickly. "I'm coming."
When she stepped out, Elias studied her again.
"You're pale."
"I'm always pale," she tried lightly.
He didn't smile.
"You should rest."
"I can't."
"Because he's not here."
She hesitated.
"Yes."
Elias's voice softened just slightly. "He will return."
"I know," she said.
"But?"
She looked down at her hands.
"But what if this is what they wanted?" she whispered. "What if they wanted him away from me?"
Elias didn't answer immediately.
"Then we make sure they fail," he said calmly.
Her fingers curled gently over her abdomen again.
For the first time, fear wasn't just about herself.
It was about the life growing quietly inside her.
Late that night, she finally lay down.
On his side of the bed.
She curled slightly, clutching his pillow.
The room felt too large.
Too silent.
"Come home," she whispered into the darkness.
Across the city, Izana stood alone in his office, staring out at the skyline.
His phone buzzed.
A message notification.
He looked down.
Please come home soon.
He stared at the screen for a long moment.
The curse pulsed once more—sharp and urgent.
His expression shifted.
Not panic.
Not anger.
Something colder.
Decision.
He picked up his coat.
"Dante," he called quietly.
Dante looked up.
"We're ending this."
Dante studied him. "You're going back."
"Yes."
"And the rival?"
Izana's eyes darkened slightly.
"They made a mistake."
He walked toward the door.
"They thought distance would weaken me."
A faint, dangerous calm settled over him.
"It doesn't."