Page 165 of Royal Bargain
I sit up slowly. “Was that… ?”
Liam grins like a guilty kid and reaches behind the armchair.
Out comes a tiny black kitten with a patch of white on her chest and enormous blue eyes. She blinks up at me, then lets out another squeaky mew as Liam hands her to me.
“She needed a home,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “And you’ve been doing so damn much lately. You deserve something soft, something that reminds you of me when I can’t be here. Something that we can share together, besides our daughter, of course.” He smirks.
I cradle the kitten against my chest, my heart swelling as she immediately starts purring. “You got me a cat?”
He shrugs, suddenly bashful. “I figured Lily has us wrapped around her finger. Maybe this little one could be your second-in-command.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away as I look at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m also stupidly proud of you,” he says, settling beside me, his hand resting over mine. “That festival performance? You owned that stage. You were incredible.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, then my cheek, then lower. “You’ve built something amazing, Ana. Not just your career. Us. This family. This home.”
And then his mouth finds mine, slow and full of promise.
We end up tangled in sheets not long after, the kitten curled up fast asleep at the foot of the bed while Liam worships every inch of me. It's not hurried. It’s not wild.
It’s home.
Each touch is a vow. Each kiss, a thank you.
We move together like we were made for this—like the world outside doesn’t exist.
And when it’s over, he gathers me close and whispers against my skin, “I’ll never stop choosing you. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”
I press a kiss to his chest, my heart aching with love.
“I’ll always choose you too.”
And maybe our lives would become more complicated in the coming months. Maybe things would unravel before they got better. But for right now? We found each other again. We found a moment of peace, a moment of happiness in all this chaos.
And that’s enough. For now.
EMILIE
The bathroom lights are too bright.
I lean forward, gripping the marble counter like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. My reflection stares back at me—wide green eyes, smudged eyeliner, lips parted like I’m seconds away from gasping for air.
And maybe I am.
Because in my hand, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, is a pregnancy test.
Positive.
Very, very positive.
Behind me, the flat-screen TV in my bedroom drones on.
“Governor-elect Burns has vowed to clean up Thornville’s streets, launching a new initiative to eliminate organized crime. With the Russian syndicate destabilized and the Volkovs fractured, sources speculate the Irish may be his next target.”
I barely hear it.
