Epilogue
Six months later
Amelia
I stand in the bathroom of our bedroom with my heart hammering against my ribs and a small white stick on the marble counter. Two pink lines. Clear. Undeniable.
I press a hand to my stomach, a disbelieving laugh bubbling out of me.
It finally happened. Dayan had made it his mission from the very first night, filling me, claiming me, whispering dark, delicious promises about breeding me, about building the huge family he’d always wanted but never thought he’d have.
And I had welcomed every single second of it.
I tuck the test into the pocket of my silk robe and go looking for my husband.
He’s in his study, as he often is at this hour, the low lamp casting shadows across the sharp lines of his face.
From the doorway he looks exactly like the man the world fears: silent, imposing, scarred hands resting on the desk as he reviews something on his laptop that I probably don’t want details about.
The kind of man who makes powerful people speak more carefully when he enters a room.
But I know the other version of him. The one who carries me up the stairs when my feet hurt. The one who asks what I want every single day and then moves heaven and earth to give it to me. The one whose rare smiles are only for me.
I lean against the doorframe, watching him. “Busy?”
His head lifts immediately. The hard expression softens the instant his dark eyes find mine. “Never too busy for you.”
I cross the room and slide onto his lap without asking, something I’ve learned he loves.
His arms come around me automatically, one big hand settling possessively over my hip while the other strokes up my back.
He still smells like the cologne he wore at our wedding mixed with the faint trace of gun oil and coffee.
I pull the test from my robe pocket and set it on the desk in front of him.
For a long moment he simply stares at it.
Then his breath catches and the most beautiful look of stunned wonder crosses his face.
The terrifying Mostovoi brother, the silent bidder, the man who bought me without negotiation, looks at two pink lines like they’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
“Amelia…” His voice is rough, lower than usual. His hand moves from my hip to cover my stomach, gentle in a way that still undoes me every time. “You’re pregnant.”
“I’m pregnant,” I confirm, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. “We’re going to have a baby, Dayan.”
He pulls me tighter against his chest and buries his face in my neck. I feel the tremor that runs through his powerful frame, the way his fingers flex against my skin like he’s afraid this might vanish if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When he finally speaks, the words are barely above a whisper.
“Thank you.” He kisses my throat, my jaw, my mouth. “Thank you for giving me this.”
I thread my fingers through his hair and kiss him back, tasting the raw emotion he rarely shows anyone else.
He pulls back enough to rest his forehead against mine, one hand still protectively cupping my belly.
“A son or daughter… already. I wanted a house full of children. I wanted a legacy to protect. But this—” His thumb strokes softly over my stomach.
“This soon… I didn’t dare hope it would happen so fast.”
“I did,” I murmur, smiling. “You’ve been very thorough, husband.”
A low, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. The one that always makes heat pool low in my belly. But tonight there’s something deeper in it. Joy, pride and fierce, protective love.
I settle more comfortably against him, my head on his shoulder as I look around the study that has slowly started to feel like ours.
Photos of us from the wedding sit on the shelf.
One of my favorite dresses hangs on the back of the door.
The house that once felt imposing now feels warm, lived-in, full of promise.
“I keep thinking about that night,” I say quietly.
“The engagement party. All those polite, safe men my mother kept pushing at me. I was so tired of waiting for a life that felt real. And then Harriet told me about the auction and I thought it was insane… but I went anyway. I walked into a room full of dangerous men and looked across the table at the scariest one of all. And I knew you were my future.”
His arms tighten around me. “Best decision you’ve ever made.”
I laugh softly. “It was. Look at us. Barely married and already starting the huge family you wanted. I get the man who burns down obstacles for me. You get a wife who will never run from the truth, even when it’s ugly.
And soon… we’ll have a little one who gets the best and most terrifying protector in the world for a father. ”
Dayan’s hand keeps stroking my stomach in slow, soothing circles. The contrast hits me again, how the same hands that have ended lives touch me with such aching gentleness. How the man the world sees as a threat is, behind these walls, the most devoted husband imaginable.
“I will protect you both,” he says, the vow simple and absolute. “All of you. Always.”
“I know.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “And I’ll stand beside you. We’re a team, remember?”
“Team,” he echoes, the word warm against my lips as he kisses me again, deeper this time, full of promise and hunger and forever.
Later that night, after he has worshipped every inch of me with reverent hands and a mouth that still knows exactly how to unravel me, we lie tangled together in our bed. His palm rests over my lower belly again, as if he can already feel the life growing there.
I trace the scar on his ribs and smile into the dark.
My rebellion had led me straight into the arms of the perfect match. The silent bidder. The dangerous husband. The man who gave me everything I never knew I needed.