The ultrasound pictures were still warm from my fingers when my mother-in-law threw them into the kitchen trash.

The weeks following Julian’s arrest passed in a state of surreal, breathtaking peace. Without the constant threat of the Rossi family’s legal harassment hanging over our heads like a guillotine, Cliffwood Manor truly began to feel like a home rather than a fortress. The federal prosecutors in Seattle, armed with the ironclad financial audits from Project Omega, moved swiftly against the remaining corrupt board members of the Rossi conglomerate. Within a month, the entire corrupt corporate hierarchy had imploded under the weight of their own embezzlement and fraud charges. The media had a field day with the scandal—dubbing it "The Fall of the House of Rossi"—while Clara and Roman Rossi remained quietly secluded in their Pacific sanctuary, completely detached from the media circus. One crisp, sunlit morning in early November, I stood on the massive stone balcony off the master suite, wrapped in a thick cashmere robe, feeling the powerful kicks of our baby against my palm. The Pacific Ocean stretched out before me in an endless expanse of sapphire blue, sparkling under a brilliant autumn sun. Gulls soared lazily on the thermal currents rising from the cliffs below, and the air was filled with the clean, salt-kissed scent of new beginnings. Roman stepped out onto the balcony behind me, carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. He wrapped his arms gently around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder and pressing a tender kiss to my temple. "You’re up early," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Couldn't sleep," I smiled, leaning back into his embrace, feeling the absolute safety of his strong arms holding me together. "I was just thinking about how wild it is that a single ultrasound picture thrown into a trash can in Seattle could lead us right here." Roman chuckled softly, taking a sip of his coffee before resting his mug on the stone railing. "Trash can was her loss, sweetheart. Our greatest gain." I turned around in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking up into his eyes, feeling the fierce, unshakeable love that had anchored us through every single storm we had ever faced. "Do you think we’re finally safe, Roman? Do you think the story is really over?" I asked, a playful, teasing glint in my eye. Roman smiled, leaning down to press his lips gently against mine. "No, sweetheart," he murmured against my lips, a mysterious smile touching the corners of his mouth. "I don’t think the story is over at all. In fact... I think we’re only just beginning the best part." Just as he finished speaking, my phone buzzed sharply in the pocket of my cardigan hanging over the patio chair.