Chapter 25 – Jennie
I barely make it into the bathroom before I’m on my knees, clutching the porcelain and vomiting like my body’s trying to empty itself completely. My stomach twists, raw and hollow, and tears sting the corners of my eyes as I gasp for air between heaves.
I hear the door burst open, fast and loud. It’s probably Violet or Zoe. I told them I needed to pee, but the way I ran out of there—I should’ve known they’d follow me.
I feel a hand on my back, warm and strong. Another gently gathers my hair, holding it away from my face like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
It’s not Zoe or Violet. It’s my husband. Adrian.
He doesn’t speak right away, just crouches beside me, thumb gently stroking my spine like it’ll help calm me. His presence fills the room, anchoring me like always.
When I finally find the strength to sit back against the wall, Adrian grabs a cool towel and wipes my face, his brows drawn together in deep concern.
His hands are gentle, like always, his expression soft. He wipes the corner of my mouth, then leans back on his heels, watching me too closely.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again, voice low and steady.
I press the back of my hand to my forehead. “Maybe I ate something weird,” I murmur, not entirely convinced myself. “Or…maybe it’s just stress.”
“I’m sorry. I should have known the party would be too much for you. You were never a fan.”
I start to shake my head when something else clicks, and I frown a little. “Wait, I’ve been feeling more tired than usual lately.”
His eyes sharpen. “Tired?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. Like…falling-asleep-in-the-middle-of-the-day kind of tired. And I’ve been dizzy a few times. Even had a couple of weird food aversions.”
Something clicks in my mind as I say it all out loud. My breath catches, and I meet Adrian’s eyes.
He stares at me for a beat. “Jennie,” he says carefully, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I…I don’t know,” I say, heart thudding. “But it’s a possibility.”
His jaw tenses, and he leans in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine.
“I’m calling the doctor. Right now.”
I shake my head quickly. “Wait. I…I think I have a test. A pregnancy test.”
His eyes narrow. “You think?”
“I do,” I murmur, already rising shakily to my feet. “It should be in my bag….”
I stumble out of the bathroom, Adrian trailing me like a shadow, his hand hovering near my back but not touching—like I might shatter.
I rummage through my purse on the vanity, tossing aside lip gloss, a comb, and receipts.
My fingers finally close around the small, unopened box, and I exhale a shaky breath.
I meet his eyes, holding it up. “Do you want to…stay with me?”
His face hardens like I’ve offended him. “You really think I’m letting you go through this alone?”
So I take the test.
And Adrian holds my hand the entire time.
Neither of us speaks, but the air between us is thick with tension, with hope, with fear. I can hear his breathing—low, controlled. I can feel the steady weight of his thumb brushing my knuckles.
We wait. The longest three minutes of my life.
Then the lines appear.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
I stare at them, my heart thudding in my ears.
Adrian leans closer, sees it too. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.
“Adrian?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
He exhales once, slowly. His eyes lock on mine. And then…a smile. Not a grin. Not a smirk. But something raw and wrecked and real. The kind of smile that cracks something open in my chest.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, like it’s the only truth that matters in the world.
I nod slowly, dazed. “I’m pregnant.”
Adrian exhales, and then—he drops to his knees.
“Adrian….”
His hands wrap around my waist, his head bowing low until his forehead rests gently against my belly. The air in my lungs freezes. His arms hold me so tightly, so reverently, like he’s trying to memorize every part of me all over again.
“Thank you,” he breathes, voice rough and low. “For giving me the life I never thought I’d deserve.”
Tears sting my eyes. I run my fingers through his dark hair, threading gently, slowly. “Adrian….” I sink to the floor with him, kneeling until we’re eye to eye.
I cup his face, and he lets me. “You do deserve this,” I whisper. “You deserve every good thing. Every beautiful thing. And you already are everything to me.”
His eyes are glassy when they meet mine, and something in him cracks open—something raw and honest and stripped of all the armor he always wears. He nods once, wordless.
We hug again. Just hold each other like the world has gone quiet.
Just us.
And the promise of something more.
Eventually, we stand. He kisses my forehead, then my lips, then the hand that still holds the pregnancy test.
“You ready to go back to the party?” I ask softly as he brushes my hair behind my ear.
He shakes his head and clings to me. “Can’t we stay in all night?”
“Adrian!” I laugh and take his hand. “Come on, this is your party.”
“Fine.”
We walk out together, hand in hand—returning to the party, but everything has changed.
Because now we are no longer just husband and wife. We’re a family.
***
Adrian doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the night.
It’s almost ridiculous, the way he holds my hand like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
Even when someone calls him over to talk about security or whatever Bratva business is always buzzing in the background, he doesn’t release me.
He just shifts his weight, pulls me a little closer, and keeps his fingers curled protectively around mine.
People begin to leave. One by one, the fancy dresses and velvet jackets and glasses of champagne drift out of the estate.
Someone congratulates us on our “announcement,” and another toasts to new beginnings.
I can barely hear any of them. I only feel Adrian’s thumb brushing the inside of my wrist, slow and steady, like he’s grounding us both.
Zoe gives me a wink. Violet mouths something wildly inappropriate about “Bratva monsters.” I laugh, covering my mouth. Adrian just pulls me tighter against his side like he knows exactly what they’re saying and doesn’t care.
As the last few guests head for the door, Adrian leans close and presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Time to disappear?” he murmurs.
I nod.
We slip away quietly, unnoticed except by those who know us best. His arm stays around my waist the whole walk to our room, his presence so solid and reassuring I could cry again.
And once the door closes behind us, he consumes me, kissing and gently whispering sweet nothings to me as he undresses me. We make love, and it’s softer and more sensual than anything we’ve ever had.
After sex, we lay in bed, tangled in each other’s arms, the sheets a mess around us, soft laughter bouncing off the walls.
Adrian’s chest rumbles under my cheek as I trail my fingers lazily over the scars on his skin.
He’s telling me some ridiculous story from his teenage years—something involving a stolen car, Lukin’s fury, and Kaz playing lookout while eating a meat pie.
I laugh so hard my stomach aches.
It’s peaceful here. Warm. Safe. Everything I never thought I could have.
Then suddenly, Adrian slips out of bed. I sit up slightly, watching him disappear into the walk-in closet. “What are you doing—?”
He returns with something behind his back, and my breath catches the second I see the velvet box in his hand.
“Adrian…” I whisper. “What is that?”
He doesn’t say anything at first. He just kneels—actually kneels—on the floor beside the bed, looking up at me like I’m the whole damn world.
“I never got the chance to do this the right way,” he says quietly, voice rough around the edges. “Everything about us started out wrong. I forced you. I stalked you. I married you without ever asking. And somehow, you still became the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Tears well in my eyes before I can stop them.
He opens the box. Inside is a simple, elegant ring—classic, but stunning. Just like him.
“So I want to ask now, properly. Jennie Whitlock Rusnak…even though we’re already married, would you still want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
I laugh and cry at the same time. “Yes. God, yes.”
His smile is the kind of thing I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
I pull him to me, our mouths crashing together in a kiss that’s deep and full of promise. He slides the ring onto my finger with reverence, then cups my face like he can’t believe I’m real.
And then we make love again—slow, tender, breathless. I’m about to have a family of my own, with a man I love, surrounded by good friends who will do anything to protect me.
Finally, all is well with my world.