Twisted

Alex

"Who's featured in the exhibition again? I couldn't find any details online." Curiosity filled Ava's voice as the town car wound its way through central London toward the Clarke Gallery.

I'd needed an excuse to fly us to London for the weekend, and a "special photography exhibit" seemed as good a one as any, considering Ava herself was a photographer.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?" I teased. "You'll find out soon enough." I wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, trying to ignore the velvet box burning a hole in my pocket.

For six months, it'd sat in the back of my drawer, taunting me. Daring me to ask the most important question of my life.

If I didn't need the damn thing because an archaic tradition had brainwashed society into thinking a diamond equaled love, I would've already chucked it in the Potomac for its insolence.

"True," Ava acknowledged with a small yawn. "But still. I'm dying of curiosity." She snuggled closer into my side and buried her face in my shoulder. I dropped a kiss on top of her head while the streets of London whizzed by outside the window.

Ava and I had visited the city at least half a dozen times together - sometimes for business, other times for pleasure. Both her job as a travel magazine photographer and my role as CEO of an international real estate development empire took us on the road often, but we tried to meet up abroad when we could.

I wasn't a sentimental person, but I had to admit, London held a special place in my heart. It was where we'd reconciled after our breakup almost three years ago and where we lived while Ava finished her postgraduate photography fellowship. For that reason alone, it took the top spot on my preferred-destinations list.

Ava released a second, bigger yawn.

"Tired?" I rubbed her arm. She was all softness and warmth to my hard, icy edges, and the sensation of her silky skin loosened some of the anxiety building in my chest.

She'll say yes. Probably. Maybe.

"A little," she murmured. "But I'll be okay. I'm excited for the exhibit."

"Hmmm." Concern shredded the edges of my already-frayed nerves.

Had I fucked up the timing?

We'd landed in London last night and slept in that morning.

Correction: Ava slept in while I worked. My sleep had improved over the years, but insomnia still haunted me more often than not, and I rarely slept more than a few hours at a time.

But that was me. Ava had had a long week at work, and then I made her fly straight to another continent. I should've given her more time to adjust to the jet lag. She'd taken two weeks off from work so we could travel to France and Spain after London - our engagement celebration, if she said yes - so it wasn't like we were in a huge rush.

I should've waited until tomorrow.

My free hand tightened around my knee. I rarely made strategic mistakes. Then again, I rarely felt as unsettled as I did in that moment, so it was a day of firsts all around.

I hated it.

Our chauffeured town car pulled up in front of the gallery. It was located on a quiet side street, and the interior lights blazed in the windows, bathing the modern white facade in a golden glow.

I was Alex Volkov. I didn't get nervous.

But I'd be damned if my stomach didn't twist into a thousand knots as we walked up the steps toward the glass-fronted entrance.

After months of planning, the moment was almost here, and I felt like a damn schoolboy working up the courage to ask his crush out for the first time.

Did other people experience these things on a regular basis? The racing pulse, the hammering heart, the uncertainty and fucking humanity of it all? If so, no wonder a majority were insufferable. Their emotions short-circuited their common sense, and now, I was one of those insufferable idiots.

Whoever invented feelings deserved to be shot.

"Are you okay?" Ava slid a glance in my direction. Concern etched tiny grooves in her brow. "You look pale. I hope it's not the sushi we had at dinner."

Great. Just how I wanted to look before I proposed. Like I was dying from food poisoning.

"I'm fine." I forced a smile. It felt as unnatural as the anxiety eating away at my stomach. "It's the lighting."

Judging by her skeptical expression, the excuse sounded as believable to her as it did to me, which was not at all, but in true Ava fashion, she didn't press the issue. Instead, she gave my hand a small squeeze and rubbed her thumb over the top.

Some of the tension released from my shoulders, and I squeezed her hand back.

No one could ground me quite like she could, even when she was the source of my nerves.

The front desk assistant greeted us with a knowing smile when we entered. "Good evening, Mr. Volkov, Ms. Chen. The exhibition is right this way." She gestured to her left, playing her role perfectly. "Enjoy."

Ava smiled. "Thank you."

The gallery staff had spent the day setting up the space with Fiona, the proposal planner I'd hired. Until six months ago, I hadn't even known proposal planning was a job, but Fiona was supposed to be the best of the best.

She better be, considering how much she charged. Just because I could afford her didn't mean I liked wasting money on incompetence.

Perhaps that was why I'd micromanaged the entire process, from choosing the exact roses Ava liked to tasting all the desserts until we settled on a cake that cost more than flour and sugar should ever cost.

"Are we the only people here? It's strangely quiet." A hint of suspicion leaked into Ava's voice and ratcheted my pulse up another notch.

"It's a private exhibition. Invite only." I placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her down the marble hall.

Technically, I wasn't lying. It was private to us, and I did the inviting.

"Why am I not surprised? You're such a snob." Ava nudged my side. "It wouldn't hurt you to mingle with the so-called plebeians once in a while."

"That's where you're wrong. It would hurt me immensely. Mostly my patience, but also my faith in humanity."

"You don't have much faith in humanity."

"Then we better not destroy the little bit I have. Don't you think?"

My mouth tugged up at her laugh. Even when filled with exasperation, it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

I rubbed an absentminded thumb over her silk-clad back.

I'd told Ava the exhibition was a black-tie event. I didn't care whether she was dressed up for the proposal or not, but she would never forgive me if I sprung a ring on her while she looked anything but her best.

"Make sure her nails are done before you pop the question." Josh, Ava's brother and my best friend, kicked his feet up on my coffee table. "Or she'll murder you."

"Explain to me how you, of all people, know that." Josh and his girlfriend Jules, who coincidentally happened to be Ava's best friend, had no plans to get married anytime soon. They were too busy working, traveling, and annoying the hell out of me.

"Easy." Josh flashed a quick grin and popped a chip in his mouth. "Unlike you, I know what women want."

Sometimes, I regretted mending our friendship. He was a pain in my ass half the time, though I had to admit he was probably right about the nails. He grew up with Ava, after all.

But all thoughts of Josh dissipated when Ava and I rounded the corner and entered the exhibition space. The roar of blood in my ears nearly drowned out her soft gasp at the sight before us.

The entire space had been stripped of its usual furnishings. Instead, a two-person table sat in the center, set with candles, champagne, and an elegant display of blue roses that matched the petals strewn artfully across the hardwood floors. Strings of tiny lights stretched across the walls and served as twinkling holders for the Polaroid prints of pictures Ava had taken over the years. There were dozens of other details Fiona had painstakingly arranged, but I was too busy examining Ava's face for any hint into her thoughts to notice.

"What... I..." Her mouth opened and closed in an adorable imitation of a goldfish.

"Welcome to the Clarke Gallery's special exhibition, featuring Ava Chen." Another smile touched the corners of my mouth at Ava's stunned expression.

The proposal planner was worth every fucking penny.

"Alex..." Ava walked over to the Polaroids and skimmed her fingers over one of the photos I'd selected.

I could've delegated the task to my assistant, but I wanted to make sure the picks were perfect, so I'd spent weeks poring through all the pictures Ava had taken of us over the years. Fortunately, she'd organized them all into neatly labeled folders on her computer. Unfortunately, there were thousands of them, which was why it took me so damn long to go through them.

In the end, I'd narrowed them down to a few of my favorites - a picture of us apple picking in Vermont, which had somehow become an annual tradition despite my protests; an up-close shot of our hands intertwined on the center console during a road trip to New York; a selfie of us kissing at the Tidal Basin with flowering cherry blossoms in the background. I despised cherry blossom season in D.C. and the hordes of tourists that accompanied it, but Ava insisted on seeing the trees in person every year, so there we were.

"Yes, Sunshine?" Despite the hot rush of apprehension in my blood, I couldn't help teasing her a little.

Ava turned to face me again. "What is all this?" A hint of breathlessness punctuated her words.

"Like I said, it's a photography exhibit. And a confession."

She didn't take her eyes off mine as I closed the distance between us. "A confession," she repeated.

"Mmhmm." I stopped in front of her, so close her soft floral scent filled my lungs and clouded my thoughts. So close I could count each lash framing her beautiful dark eyes and measure her heartbeats with each shallow rise and fall of her chest. "I brought you here under false pretenses."

"I can see that. What are your true intentions, Volkov?" Despite her mock stern tone, her eyes glinted with laughter and a dozen shades of emotion.

"Some of them are too depraved to utter this early in the night, Sunshine." Amusement softened my face at the blush staining her cheeks. "But there is one thing in particular that I..." I swallowed hard, trying to form the right words in the right order. "That I can no longer keep to myself."

All traces of levity evaporated, leaving the air as thick and heavy as molasses.

Ava stilled. Her breaths rushed out faster while a bead of sweat trickled down my spine.

I'd negotiated multimillion-dollar deals and faced off against some of the world's richest and most powerful people without breaking a sweat, but there was something about the woman standing before me that destroyed all my defenses.

At the end of the day, everyone except Ava was irrelevant.

"When I first met you, you were Josh's sister. Nothing more, nothing less." At the time, I'd been so bent on revenge I couldn't see anything else. It took me seven years before I finally realized I'd been chasing after the wrong thing all along. "I didn't understand your optimism. I didn't trust your kindness. And I could not, for the life of me, understand your fascination with cameras."

Cameras were useless to me unless they were used to capture incriminating evidence against my enemies, of which I had plenty. My hyperthymesia had rendered photographs obsolete in my world.

That was, until Ava swept in and turned that world upside down.

"But now I understand."

"Understand what?" Her whisper settled in my chest like a warm weight.

"Understand why you want to capture every moment like it's the most beautiful one you've ever experienced. Why you cherish every photo like you're afraid the memory will slip through your fingers. And the reason I understand those things is because..." Another hard swallow disrupted my speech. I'd planned to keep it short and simple. I wasn't the best at saying nice things, and the fewer words I used, the less likely I was to fuck them up. Still, getting through it was a struggle given how clammy my palms were and how fast my heart was galloping.

"That's how I feel about you. I want to experience everything with you, Ava. From the smallest, most mundane moments to the biggest, most life-altering events. I didn't think I was capable of a fraction of the emotions I've felt since I met you, and they've made me a better person than I ever thought I could be. You turned my life from something I was living to something worth living for, and while we've created many memories together over the years, I'm hoping we could create more in the future with you not as my girlfriend... but as my wife."

I knelt on one knee and retrieved the ring box from my pocket. I blamed the small shake in my hand on the icy draft gusting from the air-conditioning vent.

"Ava..." I opened the box to reveal a custom-cut diamond Delamonte ring. She clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasp. "Will you marry me?"

Silence rang through the candlelit space in the wake of my question.

She stared down at me, her eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. She was so still she could've passed for a hyperrealistic statue.

A minute passed without any answer, followed by another.

Another bead of sweat snaked down my back. I was dimly aware of the photographer I'd hired to capture the moment from a hidden spot by the doorway. She was probably wondering what the hell was going on, but she was the least of my worries.

What if Ava didn't want to marry me?

We'd been dating for almost three years and living together for almost as long. We had small fights now and then, but our relationship had been mostly smooth sailing since we got back together.

But what if I'd misjudged everything? Ava loved me. I knew that. But did she love me enough to spend the rest of her life with me?

Dread trickled through my veins and solidified into stone. I was two seconds away from crumbling into smithereens when she finally nodded.

A tentative balloon of hope inflated in my chest.

"Is that a yes?" I asked cautiously.

A half laugh, half sob bled through the hand covering her mouth. "Yes, you idiot." Her muffled voice was thick with tears. "Of course I'll marry you!"

It took a second for her words to register. Once they did, my trapped breath finally escaped my lungs in a rush of relief.

"Good." I tried to contain the emotion in my own voice as I slid the ring on her finger. The six-carat diamond blazed like a fallen star, but most importantly, it fit perfectly. I'd known it would, considering I customized it to Ava's measurements, but the sight of her wearing it caused a suspicious burn behind my eyes.

Plus, Josh would be relieved to hear her nails looked perfect.

I stood and cleared my throat. "Otherwise, the flight home would've been quite awkward," I added, trying, and failing, to regain my composure.

Yes.

She said yes.

She said yes!

A grin blossomed on my mouth as the import of what just happened hit me, and I swept Ava into my arms and off her feet.

Fuck composure. That could wait for another night when I hadn't just gotten engaged.

Her surprised laugh bounced off the exposed brick walls and warmed my skin.

"Figures that would be the first thing you say to me after you propose." She looped her arms around my neck and rested her forehead against mine. Her voice still shook with emotion, but I heard a hint of her usual sass as well. "What am I going to do with you?"

I kissed away the tears dampening her cheeks before I gently brushed my mouth over hers. "Drive me crazy for the rest of our days, I presume."

"Sounds about right." Ava's smile blinded me more than any diamond could. "But you love it."

"I love you," I corrected.

Her smile faded into something more tender. "I've figured out your secret, Volkov. You can be pretty sweet when you want to be."

"Don't tell anyone, or my reputation will be shot." I brushed my lips over hers again. "It'll be our secret, Mrs. Volkov."

"Don't rob me of my fiancée phase. I'm not your wife yet." She laughed again when I gave her hair a gentle yank.

"Maybe not, but you've always been mine." I pressed my mouth against hers in a proper kiss. Softly at first, then harder until her soft moan filled my ears and her fingers threaded through my hair. "I love you,"

I whispered.

"I love you too."

Her murmured reply melted any lingering tension in my muscles. It wasn't the first time we'd said those words to each other, but it was our first time saying them as an engaged couple.

If someone told me five years ago I would be engaged - to Josh's sister, no less - and happy about it, I would've dismissed them as delusional and banned them from all my properties. Now, I couldn't imagine anything that would make me happier than seeing her walk down the aisle toward me.

Ava and I were the unlikeliest of couples. She was the bright sun to my cold moon, the optimist to my cynic, the rose to my thorn.

But if there was one thing she'd taught me, it was that sometimes, the most unexpected things in life were the most beautiful.

Josh

"You drive a hard bargain." I slipped Jules's underwear to the side and rubbed my thumb over her clit. My cock stiffened at the wetness soaking my fingers. "What kind of demonstration would you like? You want me to fuck your pussy till you forget your own name? Eat that sweet little cunt out until you come all over my face? Or maybe..." I pushed a finger inside her and curled it until I hit the spot that made her gasp. "You want me to fill every hole like the needy little slut you are."

A whimper escaped her mouth. Her toys weren't strangers in our sex life, and while some guys might not like having anything except their dick do the work in the bedroom, I didn't mind one bit. I was always down to try new things, and if those things ended in orgasms... well, I certainly wouldn't complain.

"Which is it, Red?" I worked another finger inside her. "Use your words."

"I..." A pink flush stole over her face as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Your verbal skills could use work." I tsked in mock disappointment. "But since I'm feeling generous, and we need to celebrate you passing the bar, I'll provide a sample demonstration of all three..."

She let out another whimper when I knelt before her and pulled her underwear down. Anticipation rushed through me and turned my cock from hard to granite at the sight of her so swollen and glistening for me.

I draped her legs over my shoulders and kissed my way up her inner thigh. Her skin was softer than silk against my lips, and the small tremble in her limbs only made me more ravenous.

I could feast on Jules for a lifetime and never get tired of it.

When I reached the center of her arousal, I flattened my tongue and pressed it against her clit before I dragged it up in one long, lazy lick.

Jules fisted my hair and let out a strangled cry. "Josh..."

"I know, sweetheart." I gave another languorous lick. "But we're just getting started." I paused for a second before I dove in, tongue fucking and devouring her like I hadn't eaten in fucking days.

God, the taste of her and the little moans she made every time I ate her out. It was better than any high I'd experienced.

Jules came less than five minutes later and drenched my tongue with her orgasm. My blood was fire in my veins as I licked her clean. If I didn't get inside her soon, I was going to fucking explode.

I gave her a moment to recover before I stood and slid inside her. Her moans renewed as I picked her up, wrapped her legs around my waist, and carried her to the bedroom with my cock still buried in her pussy.

My jaw clenched at the friction generated by the movement, but I managed not to take her on the living room floor like a fucking animal. There was a time and place for that, but she'd just passed the bar, and I wanted to take my time celebrating, so to speak.

When we arrived at the bedroom, I set her down on the bed and retrieved two of our favorite toys from her collection. I say ours because, hell, we always used them together, and I'd bought one of them for us as an anniversary gift.

I placed one of them before her. "Show me how talented that mouth of yours is."

My breathing harshened as Jules obediently closed her lips around the head of the dildo and sucked.

My own very real, very hard cock throbbed with need, but I ignored it the best I could as I thoroughly prepped her with lube. She was used to toys back there, so it didn't take too long to warm her up, but I wanted to ease as much of her discomfort as possible.

Once I was satisfied with the prep, I slowly inserted the anal plug and turned it on. The buzz of the vibrations nearly drowned out Jules's muffled moan.

She arched back at me, and that was all the invitation I needed to slide inside her with one smooth, hard thrust.

We let out simultaneous groans, though hers was still muffled by the toy in her mouth. Fuck. She never ceased to amaze me with how good she felt-tight and wet and molded so perfectly to me I didn't know where I ended and she began.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Broccoli. Brussels sprouts. Beets. I mentally listed as many vegetables as I could so I didn't shoot my load like a damn virgin having sex for the first time before I finally picked up the pace.

I pulled out until just the tip remained inside Jules before I buried myself to the hilt again, over and over, until the sound of flesh slapping against flesh mingled with my grunts and her moans.

"Keep sucking, sweetheart." I gripped her hips and kept my eyes locked on Jules as her head bobbed up and down on the toy. Even though I wasn't the one in her mouth, watching her suck so enthusiastically was so fucking erotic. "You're doing so well. Just like that."

All the while, I continued fucking her. In and out, faster and faster, until a telltale ball of electricity formed at the base of my spine. I let out one last groan before my orgasm ripped through me and set every nerve on fire. Jules cried out at the same time, her pussy clamping around my cock and milking every drop out of me.

I waited until our breaths slowed before I pulled out and disposed of my condom. "So fucking proud of you, Red." I kissed her shoulder while she slumped onto the bed in a heap of exhaustion.

"For passing the bar or something else?" she asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

I laughed and gently removed the plug from her. I wrapped it with a tissue from the box on the nightstand and set it aside for cleaning later.

"Both." I kissed her shoulder again before rolling her over so we lay face to face on our sides.

"Hmm. Well, that was a good celebration." Jules stretched and yawned. Even at this close of a distance, I couldn't spot a single flaw. She was perfect in every way. "A-plus work, Chen."

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet. I'm just letting you rest so I don't wear you out." I pulled her closer to me. "I have many plans for you today."

"Is that so?" Jules's mouth twitched with suppressed laughter.

"Mmhmm. Better get some rest while you can, because we're starting round two in ten minutes." I pressed my lips to the top of her head before I tucked her closer to my chest and listened to her breaths even out into a steady, soothing rhythm.

Jules and I had a robust sex life, but these would always be my favorite moments - the ones where we lay next to each other, content and listening to the other's heart beat.

We didn't need words or actions to be happy.

We only needed us.

Stella

"What do you think?" I slid open the dressing room curtains. "Does the color wash me out?"

Christian sat in the boutique's waiting area, looking woefully out of place amongst all the pink velvet and gold accents. A massive pile of shopping bags rested at his feet, and my half-empty matcha latte perched on the side table next to him.

We'd been shopping for hours, but true to form, he looked as fresh and put together as when we'd left the house.

"No." His gaze skimmed the length of my yellow floral-print dress. "You look beautiful."

"Christian." Exasperation and affection through my voice. "You've said that about every item I've tried on today."

A casual shrug. "It's true. You look beautiful in everything."

"But I can't buy everything."

"Why not?"

"Because." I floundered for a good answer. Technically, we could afford it, and we had enough space to store it all."It's too much."

"There's no such thing."

"You always say that too."

Christian's mouth curled into a lazy, cocky grin that sent butterflies soaring through my stomach. Damn him. He knew I couldn't resist that smile.

"Then you should know better than to argue, Butterfly. If you want the dress, get the dress."

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth. I did like the dress, and I needed a new wardrobe now that my baby bump had grown to a size where stretchy yoga pants and flowy maxis no longer cut it.

"Fine," I said with halfhearted reluctance. "If you insist?"

His laugh carried into the dressing room even after I closed the curtains and put a smile on my own face.

We'd spent the entire day shopping and were currently at a luxury maternity wear boutique in Soho. It was appointment only, so we were the only people in the shop save for the store manager and her assistant.

Christian had worried about me being on my feet for so long, but I'd needed to get out of the house after working from home all week. My design studio was located above a pizzeria, and sometimes, the smells from the restaurant drifted upstairs. Normal me loved the scent of fresh-baked pizza; five months pregnant me wanted to vomit every time I caught a whiff of tomato sauce.

So, until this phase of my pregnancy passed, I was working from home for the foreseeable future.

After I changed and we paid for my ridiculous haul - I could practically see cartoon-style dollar signs pop up in the manager's eyes when she rang us up - we climbed into the waiting town car outside.

"You still in the mood for tacos?" Christian asked as the chauffeur pulled away from the curb.

The boutique was our last stop of the day. It was near dinnertime, and since it was Tuesday, we were set for tacos per the Taco Tuesday tradition I'd started all those years ago.

However, since my taste in foods had fluctuated so wildly during my pregnancy - one day, I craved pickles; the next, I hated them - he always worried I would wake up one day with a deep loathing for tacos.

Christian would never admit it, but he secretly loved our weekly tradition. I'd missed one night during our entire marriage so far because Jules had been in town for a quick trip, and he'd pouted about it for a week afterward.

"Yep." I laced my fingers through his. "I promise, if I don't want to eat something, you'll know about it."

"Hmm. Like the time you woke me up at two a.m. because you wanted ice cream and tuna, and when I finally brought it, you burst into tears?" he teased.

My cheeks warmed. "It was the wrong type of tuna," I said in as dignified a tone as I could muster. "I wanted bluefin and you brought yellowfin."

Christian's eyes crinkled in a grin. If I hadn't been sitting, I would've swooned right then and there.

One would think my attraction toward him would've dimmed after nearly four years of marriage, but it'd only grown stronger. The more I got to know him, the more I fell in love with him, and I discovered something new about Christian Harper every day.

Yesterday, I'd learned that he could build a circuit board from scratch and that watching him do so could lead to... an interesting evening, especially if one were constantly turned on thanks to pregnancy hormones.

Today, I found out he'd developed a soft spot for matcha after years of declaring it inferior to black coffee (I'd caught him sneaking a sip of my drink earlier despite his full cup of espresso).

They were small things, but it was the small things that mattered.

"Well, now we have an entire freezer of every kind of tuna you could want." Christian leaned down and kissed the top of my belly. He spoke directly to the baby. "Four more months, sweetheart. Let's hope I don't go broke from indulging your mom's capricious food habits before then."

A laugh bubbled in my throat even as my heart melted at the sight of Christian being so paternal already.

I'd experienced a brief moment of worry when I first told him I was pregnant - not because I'd been worried he'd be upset or that he would be a bad father, but because I'd been worried he would doubt himself. He hadn't had the best role models for parents growing up, and despite his confidence, I knew a part of him was nervous about being a parent for the first time.

So was I, but having Christian by my side made everything far less nerve-wracking. Whatever happened, we would figure it out together.

"If you don't want to go broke, perhaps you shouldn't have spent twenty thousand dollars on the baby monitoring system," I quipped.

"That's only the skeleton of the system. I have to upgrade it closer to your due date." He laughed again at my deep sigh. "I run a security company, Butterfly. You didn't think I would slack on our child's safety, would you?”

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said dryly. I threaded my fingers through his hair when he kissed my stomach again before lifting his head to give me a proper kiss on the lips.

A sigh of pleasure drifted from my mouth to his.

I would never tire of kissing him. It was better than all the yoga, journaling, and massages in the world combined.

Well, maybe not the massages, but it came close.

Sadly, our kiss was cut short when we arrived at our apartment. Our New York penthouse took up the top two floors of a prewar building on the Upper East Side and boasted sweeping views of Central Park. It was an upgrade from Christian's old place in the city, though it was in the same neighborhood.

We dropped off my purchases in the guest room turned overflow closet, showered, and changed before setting up the taco bar together in the kitchen. We technically didn't need to go through the trouble of putting together a whole spread since it was only the two of us, but I loved the ritual of doing something so domestic with Christian. It was my favorite part of the week.

"I've been thinking about baby names," he said casually as he filled one of the bowls with salsa. "And I have a suggestion."

My eyebrows rose. "Do you want to change Dahlia and Adrian to something else?"

After much debate, we'd decided to keep our baby's gender a surprise, so we'd kept all our planning neutral. We'd decorated the nursery in a soothing pale green with the help of Farrah, Ava's cousin and a celebrated interior designer, and we'd agonized over baby names for months before we settled on Dahlia if it was a girl and Adrian if it was a boy.

Anxiety prickled my skin at the thought of going through the whole naming process again.

"No, those names are perfect. But..." Christian screwed the lid of the salsa jar back on. "I was thinking that if we have a girl, her middle name could be Maura."

I froze, my heart twisting at the mention of my old nanny. She'd been gone for years, but I still missed her so much.

I only hoped that I could raise my child as well as she'd raised me.

"What do you think?" Christian watched me carefully. The tiniest of furrows creased his brow. "I thought it would be a nice homage, but we don't have to if you don't want to."

"No. I think..." I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. "I think that would be perfect."

Emotion thickened my voice into something near unrecognizable. Not because of the mention of Maura, necessarily, but because of Christian's proposal.

Everyone thought he was some sort of ruthless monster, and perhaps in business, he was. But he was also one of the most thoughtful, considerate people I'd ever met.

"Good." His face softened before a mischievous glint lit his eyes. "And if we have a boy, his middle name could be Christian, after the best husband in the world."

I laughed through the tears building behind my eyes. I blamed my hormones; I cried at the drop of a hat these days.

"Or maybe it should be Rhys, after their godfather - "My joke cut off into a squeal when Christian pulled me toward him and fisted my hair.

"You're always provoking me," he growled, but his face was alight with amusement. "One of these days..."

"Your threats stopped working against me a long time ago, Mr. Harper." I blinked back the moisture threatening to spill down my cheeks and looped my arms around his neck. "Besides, you love the provocation."

"I love you," he corrected. "There's a difference."

"Same difference, and I love you too." I pressed my lips to his in a soft kiss. "No matter how cranky you get sometimes."

I suppressed another laugh at his grumble, but it eventually melted away when Christian deepened the kiss and released my hair to curl his hand around the back of my neck.

I sank into his embrace, our tacos forgotten.

There were no cameras, no guests, no distractions. Just us.

That was why I loved our dinner nights so much. They weren't wasn't fancy or flashy, but they didn't need to be.

Sometimes, the simplest moments were the most beautiful.

________________________________________

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Christian

"Stop freaking out." Alex watched me pace the hall outside the delivery room with a bored expression. "It's unbecoming."

"I am not freaking out," I said through gritted teeth. 

The pace of my steps increased, as did my heart rate.

What the hell was taking so goddamned long? Stella had been in there for over eight hours. Was that a good or bad sign when it came to giving birth?

Everything I'd read about childbirth over the past nine months dissolved beneath the weight of the panic tunneling through my veins.

I'd wanted to be in the delivery room with Stella, but after much debate during our mad rush to the hospital after her water broke, her mother had joined her instead. I would've put up more of a fight had I not been worried my stress would compound Stella's stress.

I tugged on the collar of my shirt.

I hated feeling this out of control. Not being able to see her and know how she was doing only made things worse.

"You are freaking out." Rhys cut through my chaotic thoughts. He sat on Alex's other side with his legs outstretched. He was so tall his shoes almost touched the other side of the hallway. "Take a breather. Go outside for some fresh air."

Irritation curled through me.

Christ, couldn't a guy worry in peace? I didn't understand why all of Stella's friends had to show up when she'd gone into labor. Her family was here too, but at least her father and sister had gone to get dinner instead of hounding me.

Alex, Ava, Josh, Jules... even Rhys and Bridget were here. They were our baby's godparents, but still. Didn't they have a country to run?

"Everything will be okay," Bridget said soothingly. "You said it yourself. Dr. Moon is the best, and he did an excellent job with Sofia and Niko. You have nothing to worry about."

Dr. Moon was the top obstetrician in the country. He lived in Chicago, but I'd flown him out to New York last month so he could be on standby for when Stella went into labor. I'd paid an outrageous sum for the luxury, but it was worth it.

However, just because he was the best didn't mean he was infallible.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead as statistics for childbirth complications and maternal mortality rates ran through my head.

If anything happened to Stella or the baby...

"I have cookies," Ava offered. "It'll help calm your nerves, and you haven't eaten all day. Do you prefer red velvet, chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, or double chocolate chunk?"

For fuck's sake.

"I don't want any fuck" - my teeth clenched when Alex narrowed his eyes in warning. Normally, I didn't give a shit whether he was upset or not, but Ava was genuinely trying to help, and I had enough going on without getting into an argument with Alex. "No, thank you," I said more calmly. "I don't want any cookies."

"Let's do a chess rematch." Josh hadn't given up onbeating me or Alex at chess at least once. "I downloaded one of those two-player apps on my phone. Beat Red twice last night."

"And I beat you three times," Jules said sweetly. "Funny how you left that part out."

A vein throbbed at my temple. "I am not playing on a fucking chess app. Those algorithms are so predictable it's insulting-"

The faint but distinctive wail of a newborn sliced through the air.

Everyone fell silent. Seven heads swiveled toward the delivery room door, including mine, and my heart jumped in my throat when it finally opened to reveal Stella's mother.

She picked up on my most urgent question before I asked it.

"Stella and the baby are both doing fine," she reassured me. She looked tired but happy. "Everything went smoothly."

My relationship with Stella's parents had come a long way over the years. I'd grown to respect Mika and Jarvis Alonso, though I would never quite forgive them for the way they'd treated her growing up. Still, they were trying, and they'd flown up to New York last week so they could be with her when she went into labor.

"I'll give you two some alone time." Mika's face softened into a smile as she stepped aside. "And Christian? Congratulations."

I managed a short nod of acknowledgment before I walked inside and closed the door behind me. Stella's friends respectfully stayed behind, though I could tell the women were dying to see her.

Dr. Moon and the nurses were cleaning up post-procedure, but I barely noticed. I was too focused on Stella, who sat on the hospital bed looking sweaty, exhausted, and so fucking beautiful my heart hurt. She was smiling down at the bundle in her arms, but she looked up when she heard me enter.

Our eyes locked, and a strange pressure built inside my chest until I thought I might explode from it.

"Are you ready to meet her?" she asked softly. A small smile played on her lips at my uncharacteristic speechlessness.

Her. A daughter.

I have a daughter.

My blood roared in my ears.

I couldn't get my voice to work, so I simply nodded as I walked over.

I kissed Stella's forehead and let my lips linger for a minute before I pulled back.

She's fine. The baby's fine. They're both healthy and alive.

"Meet Dahlia Maura Harper." Tears shone in Stella's eyes, but she was smiling so widely I felt the warmth in my bones as I took the precious bundle from her arms.

I stared at the sleeping newborn in my arms. She was so tiny and delicate I was afraid I might crush her if I held her too hard. She was swaddled so all I could see was her sweet pink face, but that didn't stop a fierce, overwhelming love from rising inside in my chest.

One second of holding her. That was all it took for me to fall in love with her and know, with unerring certainty, that I would do anything to protect her.

When I finally found my words, they came out hoarse and thick with emotion. "She's perfect."

Just like her mother.

I rocked Dahlia in my arms while Stella watched us with that beautifully soft smile of hers. The air was quiet, and all I could hear was the beat of my heart as I held my daughter for the first time.

Eventually, we'd have to share this moment with her friends and family, but for now, I luxuriated in the peace that belonged only to us.

Me, Stella, and Dahlia.

The family I never thought I'd have, and the only family I'd ever need.