Page 228 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“I’m stronger than I look,” she reminds me.

I smile, remembering that she had said something similar once upon a time, when we’d still been strangers.

“I know.”

“And our baby is strong, too,” she tells me. “How can he be anything else, with a father like you?”

I detect a note of pride in her voice. It makes me feel like I’m eight fucking feet tall.

I tell myself that I need to be deserving of that pride. I need to make sure she’s safe.

I will not repeat past mistakes.

I will not lose another wife.

I will not lose another child.

“You keep referring to the baby as he a ‘he’,” I point out. “Mother’s intuition again?”

She tilts her head as if she’s just now noticing that tendency. “No, it just comes out that way, I guess. I honestly have no idea what we’re having.” Then she gives me a sneaky side glance. “Do you have a preference?”

“My preference is for healthy,” I say truthfully. “Beyond that, I don’t care.”

She cups my face with both hands and stares at me for a long moment. I can see the optimism shining bright inside her.

The optimism that I lost a lifetime ago, if I ever had it in the first place.

“But I do hope the baby gets your eyes,” I add.

“Yeah?”

“They’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s a big statement.”

“Go big or go home, isn’t that what they say?”

She laughs and kisses me softly on the cheek.

My hand settles over her burgeoning belly. I marvel at the changes her body has gone through in such a short span of time. She has a bump now, still small, only in the developmental stages, but it’s undeniable.

She has a glow, too. Though I suspect that has something to do with the mountain air and the absence of stress.

“Now stop worrying and eat,” she scolds, giving me another kiss before moving back to her seat.

We eat our breakfast together. When we’re done, I wash the dishes while Esme spreads herself out on the sofa.

It’s stained and torn in places, but it serves its purpose and even I have to admit, it’s comfortable as hell.

She picks up one of the books she bought earlier than week when we went down into town together. She’s been through three books in as many days and her appetite for them only seems to grow.

I slip my jacket on and kiss Esme on the forehead on my way out.

When I glance back at her, her eyes are fixed on me, a small smile playing across her face.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, wagging my eyebrows at her.

“Oh, nothing,” she replies. “Just… enjoying my view. Go ahead and leave so I can get a look at my favorite part.”

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