The Prince’s Secret Twins (Al-Sintra Family #2)

Epilogue

Tila’s breath hitched as Khal’s words settled in the air like a heavy weight. It’s up to you.

She had never expected this. Never expected to hold such power over another person’s fate.

The woman had tried to steal her son. She’d finagled a job at the palace, infiltrated the staff, violated everyone’s trust and risked countless lives, not to mention, nearly shattered her world. By all logic, Tila should want vengeance.

But did she?

Her stomach churned, her emotions an uneasy storm—anger, sorrow, fear, and something else she couldn’t quite name. A week ago, she would have demanded justice in its purest form. Punishment. Consequences. Retribution. But now, sitting at this long, imposing table, with Khal watching her with his unreadable expression and Joran’s firm, steady hand on her shoulder, her emotions twisted into something far more complicated.

Ophelia had been desperate.

Tila exhaled slowly, straightening her shoulders. “She’s not well, Khal,” she said carefully, choosing her words with intention. “Ophelia clearly has mental health challenges. She doesn’t need a prison sentence—she needs help to get through… whatever she’s struggling with.”

She saw the flicker of something in Khal’s gaze—not disagreement, but consideration. Still, his expression remained stony, his hands in his pockets as if waiting for her to continue.

Tila rubbed her forehead, trying to sort through her own tangled thoughts. Khal might have been terrifying to most people, but she had come to know better. He cared. Not just about duty, or justice, or law—but about doing what was right.

And, despite everything, she couldn’t shake the feeling that sending Ophelia to prison wasn’t right.

“She’s disturbed, Tila,” Khal said, his voice gruff.

“Yes, but why?” Tila countered. The question burned inside her, demanding an answer. “What made her so desperate to have a son that she was willing to get a job at a fortress, to risk death, in order to steal a baby that wasn’t hers?”

She looked at both men, searching their faces, willing them to understand.

“Something happened in her life to convince her that the only path to happiness was having a son,” she pressed. “Something so powerful, so consuming, that it made her believe it was worth risking everything.”

Joran shifted beside her, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder. He wasn’t arguing, but she could feel the tension in his body—the silent war between his rage and his reason.

Khal leaned back in his chair, watching her intently. Then, after a long moment, he sighed.

“You’re right.”

Tila blinked.

“The guards and nannies said the same thing,” Khal continued, his voice quieter now, thoughtful. “The woman was sobbing as she held Rafi, rocking back and forth, muttering about needing to get ‘her’ son home to his bassinet.” He shook his head. “She wasn’t thinking rationally.”

He nodded once, decisively. “I’ll recommend that she be treated in a high-security mental health facility.”

Tila’s shoulders sagged with relief. It was the right call.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling slightly. “I knew you wouldn’t send her off to prison where her mental health would only decline further.”

Khal said nothing, but there was a glint in his eyes—something approving, something amused.

And for the first time, Tila realized that maybe, just maybe, Khal had been testing her all along.

His mouth twisted slightly, then he shook his head. “Sometimes, facing one’s demons is even more of a nightmare than prison.”

“I hope not. She’s a very confused woman.” Tila inhaled, then let the air out slowly. “I know she lost a baby several months ago. I didn’t know her well. Just in passing in the grocery store. But I never realized she had any challenges until the day I met her in the park a while ago.”

He nodded. “That’s what her other neighbors told us.”

Tila’s eyebrows went up. “You interviewed my old neighbors?”

He grimaced and shot her an amused glare. “You never heard that.”

She laughed and relaxed. “See? This is why I tell everyone that you’re actually a softy underneath that grouchy exterior,” she teased and stood up. “I have to finish up a few ideas for my newest client.” And she headed for the doorway.

“You’re still working?”

She paused halfway to the door, turning back to her brother-in-law. “Of course. I love my job, but now I work under a pseudonym and the security team built a firewall around my business.”

Khal stood up as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “You know you don’t have to work, right?”

Tila rolled her eyes. “Would you be able to sit around and do nothing, Khal?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Tasha relaxes,” he asserted firmly. “She used to be my assistant.”

Tila walked over to the doorway, resting her hand on the handle as she paused to say, “From what I’ve heard from the staff members, your wife works harder now than she ever did as your assistant.”

She walked out when she saw his jaw drop, enjoying the fact that the big guy could be shocked. Walking back to the nursery, she was prepared to send the nannies home. They’d come back to work too early. Both of the day nannies had serious concussions, but both asserted that they were fine.

However, it wasn’t much of a surprise to walk into the nursery to find the nannies gone and Rafi and Laith on the floor with Joran. Her sons were developing adorable personalities. And it was fascinating to watch. It was equally fascinating to watch Joran, a big, huge man with muscles and a toughness that was hard to match, sitting on the floor making silly sounds with whimsical toys. She enjoyed listening to the hilarious stories that Joran made up about the “animal” toys. For a man who worked with weapons and military politics, border problems and arrogant diplomats, it was adorable to see her handsome husband making up silly stories to please his infant children.

Rafi and Laith clearly adored these stories. They stared at the animals, entranced by their father’s voice as he told a story about…two odd looking animals falling in love and…what in the world was he teaching their sons?

“Joran!” Tila gasped, laughing as she stepped into the room. “You can’t say those things to babies!”

All three turned their heads, watching as Tila hurried into the room. Rafi beamed as if he knew exactly what his father was saying and loved it. Laith scowled, as if he wanted his mother to go away because she’d interrupted a rather…uh…racy…story about the polka dot giraffe and a green and blue striped lion.

“What? They need to learn about these things eventually.”

Tila lowered herself to the floor and picked Rafi up, cuddling the little guy in her lap. Joran pulled Laith onto his lap, kissing the top of his dark head.

“They can learn about the birds and the bees when they are older,” she told him firmly.

She laughed and leaned in, kissing the man she loved with all her heart.

“I fired my assistant,” Joran said, his voice tight with controlled anger.

Tila frowned, caught off guard. That was the last thing she expected him to say. “You fired… but why?”

Joran exhaled slowly, his jaw clenching. He picked up a purple lion, making it dance absently in front of Laith. The baby reached for it, but Joran barely noticed. His movements were stiff, his energy radiating frustration.

“Because he deleted your text messages,” he admitted, his voice rough. “He didn’t put your calls through.”

Tila’s stomach twisted.

Joran turned to her, his eyes dark with fury—not at her, but at himself . “All those months ago, I thought you had given up on me. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. But it wasn’t you. It was him.” His jaw flexed, his fists clenching. “My own damn assistant decided you weren’t important enough. So he deleted everything. Every message. Every missed call.”

Tila stared at him, her mouth falling open in shock. “He… deleted everything?” She shook her head, as if trying to make sense of something completely impossible. “How do you know?”

Joran’s grip tightened on the toy in his hand before he shoved it toward Rafi, more out of habit than intent. The baby grasped at it, but Joran didn’t react.

“The palace security team did a full investigation into my phone records,” he ground out. “They didn’t even know what they were looking for at first, but eventually… they found it. Your messages. Your voicemails. All of it.” He raked a hand through his hair, his frustration rolling off him in waves. “It was all there, buried. And I didn’t see it. I let that bastard keep us apart.”

His voice dropped lower, raw and edged with self-recrimination. “I should have known. I should have realized something was wrong. I should have found you.” His jaw flexed, his nostrils flaring as his hands curled into fists. “I would have burned down the damn world to get to you if I had known.”

Tila’s breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

Joran took a step toward her, his presence towering, overwhelming. “I’m sorry, Tila,” he said, voice thick with an emotion that was almost too much for him to contain. “I should have fought harder. I should have figured it out. I should have never let you believe, even for a second, that I didn’t want you.”

His hand cupped the side of her face, his grip firm, possessive, as his thumb brushed along her cheek. His gaze burned into hers, fierce and unyielding. “That will never happen again,” he vowed. “No one will ever keep you from me. Not a damn soul.”

Tila could barely breathe, the intensity of his words wrapping around her like a promise. A claim.

The pain in his voice was real. The regret, the fury at himself—it wasn’t just an apology. It was a vow.

She leaned forward, kissing him. “You would have been there,” she finished for him. “I know that now. I know you better, Joran. I have complete confidence that you would have come to me if you’d gotten the messages.”

He reached out, steadying the baby boy on his lap while pulling her closer for a deeper kiss. “I love you,” he grumbled. “You and the boys are everything to me.”

“And you’re everything to me as well, Joran. I love you!”

Joran grunted, nodding his agreement. “What did you say to Khal?” he asked, leaning back against the cushions behind him.

“Exactly what we discussed last night. That the woman, Ophelia, is mentally ill and needs support, not punishment.”

“Good,” he said with a firm nod. “Not that I would condone anyone stealing our children, but that woman’s mutterings were indicative of a serious mental health issue.”

She smiled over at him as he snuggled Laith in his arms. “Any chance you might want to do this all over again?” she asked.

He stilled, looking over at her. “More children?” he asked, needing clarification.

She looked at her boys that were growing bigger every day. She loved them and, she loved Joran. Looking at him, she nodded, smiling with a secret smile. “Yeah. I’d like a little girl, if that’s possible.”

Joran froze for a moment, then he called out for the nannies, both of whom rushed into the nursery. Joran was handing Laith to one, then gave Rafi to the other nanny.

“What’s wrong, Your Highness?” the first nanny asked, cuddling Laith against her body securely.

“Not a thing,” he said, grabbing Tila’s hand and tugging her to her feet. “Just working on your job security,” he assured the nanny and carried a laughing Tila out of the nursery and down the hallway to their bedroom, where he proceeded to start the process of creating their daughter. Much to Tila’s delight.

A message from Elizabeth:

I absolutely love writing secret baby stories! How’d this one go? Was it good? Several people said they want to read Amit & Marianna’s story next, - however, the next story in this series is Raj’s. I had to give Marianna a bit more time to grow up and find herself since she’s only 17 in this story.

Before you continue on to read the excerpt from Raj’s story, could you take a moment to leave a review for me?