Chapter 15
LYRA
Damien’s breathing slows gradually against my neck, his arm still wrapped around my waist like he’s anchoring us to this quiet little bubble we’ve created.
His skin is warm, his presence steady, and even though we haven’t said a word in minutes, I feel everything he isn’t saying in the way he holds me.
Like I’m his. Like he doesn’t want to let go.
And I don’t want him to.
But somewhere beneath the warm haze, guilt creeps in. I should have told him. I should have said something earlier, before we ended up in bed again. Before he made me fall harder. I was going to. I told myself I would.
But then Rick showed up and everything turned into chaos.
And now definitely isn’t the right time. Not when he’s stretched beside me, calm and satisfied. Not when I’m still catching my breath from the way he unraveled me.
I rest my hand against his chest and feel the slow, steady beat of his heart. He reaches over and runs his fingers along my arm.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and a little rough.
I nod. “I’m perfect.” I let out a happy sigh. “Are you okay?”
His mouth lifts in a faint smile. “I’m not the one who was stalked by a former coworker. You’re not too shaken up?”
“A little. But I’m okay now.”
His hand moves to cup my cheek, and his thumb brushes just under my eye. “If he ever comes near you again—”
“He won’t,” I say quickly, gently placing my hand over his. “You scared the shit out of him. Trust me.”
I don’t say that a small part of me was scared too. Not of Damien, not really. But of how easily he slipped into that version of himself. I didn’t know he was capable of such casual violence. The strangest part is that it didn’t just scare me. It thrilled me.
Not the violence itself, but the fact that he was willing to go that far to protect me. The way he looked at me afterward, like making sure I was okay mattered more than anything else, made my heart speed up.
I press a kiss to his chest, then tuck my face against it again. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to talk. I just want to stay here, wrapped up in the warmth of him, pretending there’s nothing complicated about any of this.
Except there is.
The words linger just behind my lips, waiting to be spoken.
Every time I think I’ve built up enough courage to say them, something holds me back.
Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me now, like everything is right in the world.
Maybe it’s because I’m not ready for that look to disappear.
Maybe I’m not ready for him to treat me differently, or worse, for him to pull away.
I close my eyes and try to convince myself that it’s okay to wait a little longer. It’s only been a few days since I found out. Nothing’s really changed yet. I don’t look different. I don’t feel different, aside from the morning sickness and the way every smell in the apartment has turned on me.
Still, the weight of the secret presses harder on my chest than I expected.
“Hey,” Damien says suddenly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I actually came here to tell you something.”
My body tenses instinctively, and I push myself up slightly to look at him. “What is it?”
“I have to leave town for a few days.”
It takes a second for that to register. “Oh. Okay.”
He brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ear like it’s something he does all the time. “It’s last-minute business. Nothing to worry about. I actually came here tonight just to spend some time with you before I have to go.”
I can’t tell him now. Not like this. Dropping something this heavy on him right before he gets on a plane wouldn’t be fair.
I force a smile. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon,” he says as he pulls the sheets down and sits up, reaching for his clothes.
My chest tightens.
He starts getting dressed, and I follow suit, pulling on one of my oversized T-shirts.
We move around each other in comfortable silence, like a couple who’s done this a hundred times before.
When he finishes, he crosses back to the bed and kisses me slowly, like he’s memorizing me before he has to go.
I lean into it, trying to hold on just a second longer.
“Be safe,” I tell him when he pulls back.
His eyes darken slightly, and he nods. “Always.”
He walks to the door, then pauses. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Okay.”
The door closes behind him with a quiet click.
And just like that, he’s gone.
I stand there in the stillness, trying to process a hundred thoughts running through my head. His scent still lingers in the room. The sheets are tangled from where we were lying together. I drop back onto the bed, pull the covers up to my chest, and stare at the ceiling.
It’s strange how fast things change. One minute I’m in his arms, feeling more wanted than I’ve ever felt in my life. The next, he’s out the door and I’m left with the secret I’m still too afraid to share.
I press a hand to my stomach. It’s nothing yet. Just a whisper of what’s coming. But I already feel connected to my child.
I thought I would be more panicked about it. I expected it to hit when the doctor confirmed the news, or when I had to tell Becca. I thought it would hit when I got back home and realized my whole life was going to change.
Instead, there’s a strange kind of peace around me. Because I’ve decided that, no matter what, I’m going to keep it.
I pull the covers tighter around myself and close my eyes.
Maybe I’m crazy for not telling him yet. Maybe I’m being selfish. But I need a little more time to figure out what this means. Not just for me, but for us. For whatever we are. Besides, I need to know a little more about Damien before I trust him with something this big.
I want to believe he’d step up. That he’d protect us, care for us, do the right thing. But I’ve seen glimpses of the world he lives in. I’ve seen the kind of men he deals with. I’ve seen what he’s capable of when someone threatens something he loves.
It scares me how deeply I already care for him. How much I want this to work. How much I want him to be part of this… whatever this ends up being.
I press my hand to my stomach again and try to hold on to the warmth of his touch a little longer.
Some time later, Becca slams the door shut behind her, louder than necessary.
I get up and go out to the living room and find her standing there like she’s seen a ghost. She’s pale, lips tight, clutching her purse like someone just tried to rip it from her hands.
She doesn’t say anything at first. She just stands there, her eyes darting around the room like she’s trying to convince herself she’s safe.
“Becca?” I take a step toward her, but she lifts a hand and shakes her head.
“Sit,” she says. “I need to sit you down.”
Her tone makes my stomach twist.
I lower myself to the couch as she walks over, dropping her purse and keys onto the coffee table without her usual commentary about clutter. She sits beside me, knees angled toward mine and places a hand on my thigh like she’s trying to keep me grounded.
“There were these scary Russian guys at the hotel,” she says. “Heavy accents. Big guys. Straight out of an action movie, you know? Something felt off, so I kept my ears open. They were speaking quietly, but I caught a name. Damien Morozov.”
My chest tightens.
“Okay…” I say slowly. “He’s Russian. He’s probably got family visiting. You know how international those boardrooms are. Maybe someone from one of the partner companies flew in.”
She shakes her head slowly, solemnly. “No. That’s not what this was.”
Something about her voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“I kept listening,” she continues. “I shouldn’t have. But I did. I pretended to be cleaning nearby. They weren’t even careful. They were talking about operations and shipments. The name Morozov came up again in connection to the Bratva. That’s the Russian mob.”
My breath catches.
Becca reaches for my hand, squeezing tight.
“He’s not just your boss, Lyra. He’s a mob boss.”
I feel the strength drain from my body.
“I’m having a Russian mob boss’s baby?” The words come out in a whisper. They don’t even feel like mine.
Becca nods, her own eyes brimming with fear. “I’m so sorry, Lyra. I didn’t know how else to tell you.”
I push a hand through my hair and try to breathe. The walls feel like they’re closing in. The man I’ve been sleeping with, the one I’m falling for, the man I trusted enough to let into my body again and again is dangerous. He’s deadly.
I think of the way he handled Rick. The flash of fury in his eyes, how quickly he turned violent, how his hands didn’t even hesitate before slamming him against the wall. That kind of rage doesn’t come out of nowhere.
I always knew there was something more behind his calm. Something deeper. I saw glimpses of it in his eyes. In his silence. In the way he watches people like he’s always calculating the cost of letting them live.
But I didn’t expect this.
I stare ahead, numb. “What am I going to do?”