Isabel returned when I was thirty-six weeks pregnant.
She came not in person, but through proxies, anonymous tips to the FBI about Eric's operations, leaked documents to the press about the family's alleged criminal activities, and worst of all, a direct threat delivered to our gates.
"Give up the outsider, or watch everything burn. You have 48 hours."
Eric wanted to move me to a safe house immediately. I refused.
"If I run, she wins. I'm not letting that woman dictate my life."
"Seraphina, you're about to give birth. I can't protect you here if"
"You've protected me this far. Trust yourself. Trust us."
He argued, pleaded, even tried to order me. But I held firm. This was my life now, my family, my fight. I wouldn't run.
The 48 hours passed with no incident. But we knew Isabel was planning something bigger.
It came three days later.
I was in the nursery, folding tiny onesies, when the explosion rocked the estate. I dove for cover as glass shattered, as alarms blared, as the sound of gunfire erupted from the grounds.
Eric found me in seconds, his body shielding mine. "They're here. Isabel brought Volkov's remnants, plus some new players. We need to get you to the safe room."
"The baby." A contraction hit, hard and real. "Eric, this isn't Braxton Hicks. The baby's coming."
His face went pale, but his voice stayed steady. "Okay. Okay. We can do this. Can you walk?"
"I can try."
He half-carried me through the halls, gun in one hand, me in the other. Bullets flew past. Men screamed. But Eric moved with single-minded purpose, getting me to the reinforced safe room beneath the estate.
"I'm calling the physician," he said, helping me to the bed. "I'm calling Caterina. I'm"
"Eric." I grabbed his hand, pulling him close. "You need to go. They need you out there."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You have to. End this, Eric. End it so our daughter can be born into peace."
He kissed me hard, fierce, desperate. "I'll come back. I swear it."
"I know."
He left, and I was alone with my contractions and my terror.
The battle raged above for what felt like hours.
I tracked time by contractions, five minutes apart, then four, then three. The physician arrived, along with Caterina, both pale but focused.
"Where's Eric?" I gasped between contractions.
"Ending this," Caterina said. "Focus on pushing, Seraphina. That's your only job right now."
I pushed. I screamed. I pushed some more. And finally, with one last agonizing effort, I heard it, the most beautiful sound in the world.
A baby's cry.
"She's here," the physician said, placing a tiny, squirming bundle on my chest. "A healthy girl. Perfect in every way."
I wept, staring at my daughter, her tiny fingers, her button nose, the amber eyes that were already so like her father's. "Eric," I whispered. "He needs to see her."
As if summoned, the door burst open. Eric stood there, bloodied but alive, his amber eyes wild with fear until they landed on us. Then they softened, filled with tears, with wonder, with love.
"A girl?" he asked, his voice breaking.
"A girl." I held her out. "Meet your daughter, Eric."
He crossed the room in three steps, falling to his knees beside the bed. His bloody hands reached for her, then stopped. "I'm too dirty. I'll"
"Hold your daughter, Eric."
He took her gently, reverently, cradling her against his chest. "Piccolina," he whispered. "My little one. I'm your papa. I'm going to protect you forever."
The baby, Isabella, we'd decided, opened her eyes and looked at him. Eric sobbed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"It's over," he said softly. "Isabel's dead. Volkov's men are captured. The family is secure. We're safe."
Caterina slipped out, giving us privacy. Eric climbed onto the bed beside me, Isabella nestled between us, and for the first time in months, I felt truly at peace.
"What do we do now?" I asked.
"Now?" He kissed my forehead, then Isabella's. "Now we live. We love. We watch her grow. We give her siblings. We grow old together, you and me, surrounded by family and chaos and love."
"That sounds perfect."
"It will be." He wrapped his arm around me, pulling us both close. "I promise you, Seraphina. It will be."
Later, after Isabella was asleep in her crib, Eric took me in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered. "For her. For everything."
"Thank you for keeping us safe."
He kissed me softly, then deeper, and we made love for the first time since the birth, slowly, gently, rediscovering each other's bodies. It was different now, deeper somehow, bound by the life we'd created together.
When we lay tangled afterward, he whispered, "I love you, Seraphina Moretti."
"I love you too. Now and forever."
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