Chapter Twenty-Seven - Zoe
It’s been a few months since everything shifted between us. Since the night I stood at his door, apologized, and climbed back into a bed that no longer felt like a cage. Since the night I found him in his study drinking and pulled him back to bed because I genuinely wanted him there.
The fear I once held—that sharp, splintered thing—has dulled into something else.
Something softer. Warmer. Familiar, even.
The house is quieter these days. Still heavily guarded, still Bratva at its bones, but there’s peace in the walls now.
Or maybe it’s just me that’s changed. Lukin’s family don’t really stay around as much and I’m shocked that I’m actually missing Adrian’s teasing and Katia’s friendly smiles.
Most mornings, I wake up before the sun, pad barefoot into the kitchen, and sip warm tea while the sky softens into color.
Today is no different.
I’m humming quietly to myself, one hand resting on my huge baby bump as I reach up to grab a jar from a higher shelf. Warm arms wrap around me from behind, and I squeal when Lukin’s cologne takes up the air.
One of his hands comes to rest over mine on my belly. His other arm loops around my waist like a silent vow. Then I feel the brush of his chin against my shoulder—light, casual, intimate.
And just like that, the world slows down.
I don’t speak.
I just lean back into him.
This, like my morning tea, is another routine.
One I love so much. Lukin doesn’t pass up any chance to hold me, or touch my belly.
I’m over eight months pregnant now and the baby will come anytime now.
Somehow, I can’t wait to see the magic we created together.
And in another part of my mind, I fear things would change after the baby and Lukin will not be as affectionate.
Afterall, he only married me for the baby.
I like it. For goodness’s sake, I like when he touches me like this.
Like the quiet power in his arms, the way his presence wraps around me like gravity—inevitable, steady, anchoring.
I like the heat of him behind me, the weight of his hand over mine, how my pulse doesn’t race with fear anymore, but with something dangerously close to longing.
And somewhere, in the messy corners of my heart—the parts I’ve tried so hard to keep locked up—a terrifying, beautiful truth begins to settle in.
I’m falling for him.
Maybe I already have.
Before the moment can stretch too long, a sound breaks the quiet—
The front door opens. Lukin stiffens behind me.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I ask.
“No. Hold on, I’ll check.” He starts to walk towards the front door, and I follow behind him, a slight frown on my face. We both freeze when we enter the living room.
Maria stands in the doorway.
She’s dressed in all black, suitcase by her side, her sharp eyes raking over me—my face, my body, the swell of my stomach. She doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares. And I can feel her judgment like a slap.
She’s not surprised.
She’s angry.
She’s hurt.
Then she looks at Lukin—her father. Her voice cuts through the air like a blade.
“What the fuck, Dad!”
“Language,” Lukin scolds, and I groan. This is the worst time to correct her about anything.
“Maria, I—”
“Zoe, please!” Maria snaps at me, her gaze on her father. “You know, I heard about the remarriage and have been giving you time to tell me. You didn’t. The worst part is that you married my friend? Really?”
“Maria, relax, let me explain.” Lukin steps forward.
“No!” She staggers back. “She’s pregnant!”
I step forward before I can stop myself. My heart is racing. “Maria—”
She turns to me, disbelief all over her face. “Zoe….”
“He didn’t force me,” I say, voice low but steady. “I chose this.”
Maria shakes her head. “No. You don’t see it. He’s wrapped you in this life, and now you think it’s yours.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I say, even though a part of me isn’t so sure. “And I’m still here.”
Her eyes search mine like she’s looking for the girl she used to know. Maybe she doesn’t find her, because when she speaks again, her voice is barely a whisper. “This is so disappointing, Zoe. You didn’t say a word!”
“I was scared,” I cry, and Lukin takes a step toward me.
“Zoe, let me handle this.”
“No.” I shake my head, my attention on Maria. “I’m so sorry, Maria. For everything. But this isn’t Lukin’s fault. I’m in love with him.”
Beside me, Lukin sucks in a breath. Maria stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Like I’ve just confessed to loving the devil.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
The silence that follows is loud—thick and suffocating. Maria’s eyes are glassy with disbelief, and for a moment, I think she’s going to scream, cry, something.
But then—
A sharp pain cuts through my abdomen like lightning, and I double over with a gasp.
My hands fly to my stomach.
The air leaves my lungs.
“Zoe?” Lukin’s voice is suddenly closer, sharper.
My knees buckle, and his arms are around me before I hit the floor.
“I—I think….” I can barely get the words out. “It’s time.”
Panic flickers across Maria’s face.
Lukin’s already lifting me into his arms, shouting for help as he carries me toward the door.
And just like that, everything else fades. The argument, the doubt, the disbelief. There’s only one truth now—the baby is coming.
“Wait! Don’t move her!” Maria stops Lukin. “Take her into the bedroom. She needs to be laid down.”
“What? I need to get her to the hospital,” Lukin growls, his voice breaking. “She’s in pain.”
“Call an ambulance.” Maria directs Lukin towards the nearest bedroom. “We need towels, hot water, blankets. Now. She’s too far along—she’s not going to make it to the hospital.” She’s checking my pulse, her fingers tight on my wrist.
Lukin’s jaw tightens, but he obeys her without a word, barking orders to the staff. His control never breaks, but I see the storm in his eyes.
Everything’s a blur—colors, sounds, movement. I can’t process any of it. I’m not ready. Gosh, I’m not ready. The baby isn’t supposed to come for two weeks.
“Maria,” I choke out, my hands gripping her arm. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” she says, voice soft now, brushing the hair from my face. “But you’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.” She nods at her Dad. “We’ve got you.”
But her words barely register as the next wave of pain crashes over me, dragging me under.