The baby kicked at the exact moment I heard his heavy, deliberate footsteps outside the restroom door.

By 6:00 AM, the rain over Lake Michigan had stopped, leaving behind a crisp, amber sunrise that painted the morning sky in shades of gold and rose.

I was sitting on the edge of the large king-sized bed in the restored east wing suite—the shattered balcony glass had already been boarded up and cleaned by a efficient crew. I hadn't slept a single wink. Every sound made me jump, every shadow felt like a threat.

The bedroom door opened softly.

Cassian stepped inside. He had changed into a clean black shirt, though his eyes showed deep lines of exhaustion. He carried a silver tray with fresh orange juice, warm croissants, and fruit.

I immediately stood up, searching his face. "Is it over?"

Cassian set the tray on the side table and walked over to me. "Julian is in federal custody. He confessed to everything. The police raided Markov's headquarters forty minutes ago—Dimitri Markov was arrested fleeing toward Midway Airport. Their organization in Chicago is completely dismantled."

I let out a long, shuddering breath, my shoulders slumping as five months of unbearable weight finally cascaded off my back. "Your brother... is in prison?"

"Where he belongs," Cassian said quietly. "He will never threaten you or our child again, Clara. I promise you."

He reached out, his warm hands gently taking mine. His calloused fingers rubbed soft circles over the back of my hands.

"I know you think I'm a monster," Cassian said, his gray eyes filled with a raw, painful vulnerability I had never seen before. "I know the stories you read on Google frightened you. My world is violent, Clara. I won't pretend otherwise. But I have never touched an innocent person in my life. Everything I built was to protect the people under my wing."

I looked down at our joined hands, then up into his dark, handsome face.

"You didn't kill Julian," I said softly.

Cassian blinked. "What?"

"You could have," I said, my voice gentle. "In your world, traitors don't get sent to prison. But you brought him to the police because... because you knew it was what I needed. You chose justice over revenge."

Cassian swallowed hard, his grip on my hands tightening. "I chose you. I will always choose you."

The baby gave a soft, gentle shift beneath my smock. I took Cassian's right hand and placed it firmly back on my belly.

"We need a real plan, Cassian," I said, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through my tired face. "I'm not going to be a secret maid hiding in your basement. And our baby isn't going to grow up in a fortress surrounded by men with guns."

Cassian let out a soft, deep laugh—a genuine, beautiful sound that warmed the entire room.

"Whatever you want, Clara," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were inches from mine. "A house in the countryside. A normal life. I will step down from the shipping empire. I will appoint a professional board. I will give you whatever life you want... as long as you stay with me."