?Chapter 21: The Eye of the Storm

                                        

                                              

Aria's POV
For the first time in days, silence didn't feel heavy, It feels waiting as though the city itself was holding its breath.
Aria stood in front of the bedroom mirror, smoothing down the midnight-blue silk that clung to her gently rounded figure. Her hand brushed the curve of her stomach. The baby was growing. And so was the feeling that nothing in her world would ever be the same.
A knock on the door.
She turned. Dominic stepped inside sharp in a black-on-black tailored suit, hair slightly tousled, eyes drinking her in like a man starving. "Ready?"
She nodded. "You didn't say where we're going."
He smiled, that rare, slow smile that made her heart clench. "I didn't want to give you time to talk yourself out of it."
⸻
The car ride was quiet, but not tense. A calm kind of quiet. His hand rested on her thigh, thumb tracing a lazy rhythm. They drove to a private rooftop restaurant, closed to the public for the evening of course it was.
Fairy lights blinked above the tables, and a string quartet played somewhere in the background. Manhattan sprawled beneath them like a galaxy turned sideways.
"This is beautiful," she whispered, taking it all in.
Dominic pulled her chair out, gentleman to the core. "So are you."
She laughed softly. "You're being dangerously sweet tonight. Should I be worried?"
He lifted his wineglass. "Yes. I'm going soft for you. It's terrifying."
⸻
Over grilled sea bass and chilled sparkling water, Aria found herself relaxing. He asked about the baby, about her cravings, even about the baby names app she'd been hiding on her phone.
But eventually, the other shoe dropped.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said quietly, pushing her plate aside.
He looked up, instantly alert.
"My follow up with Dr. Kline went fine, The baby's healthy." She paused. "But when I was leaving I thought I saw Ezra."
Dominic stilled, his expression unreadable.
"I didn't go after him," she said quickly. "I couldn't be sure. It might have just been my brain playing tricks. But it felt... real."
Dominic's jaw worked slightly, but his voice remained steady. "Thank you for telling me baby."
"Do you think I'm imagining things?" She asked 
He reached across the table and took her hand. "I think Ezra is exactly the kind of bastard who would make you doubt yourself."
Their eyes locked. And something unspoken passed between them not just about Ezra, or the baby, but about the space they were growing into.
⸻
Back at the Penthouse
They barely made it through the front door.
He pinned her against the wall, lips crashing into hers with a desperation she hadn't seen before. There was no pretense now. No pretending this was just sex or comfort or a momentary escape. It was possession. It was protection.
His jacket fell to the floor. Her heels kicked across the marble. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom like she weighed nothing at all.
The light was low. His hands were everywhere reverent and rough, slow and greedy. She pulled his shirt open, buttons popping to the floor, revealing his chest, the scars she hadn't asked about yet. She kissed each one.
He growled her name, laying her down carefully.
"You sure?" he asked, fingers brushing her swollen stomach.
"I'm sure," she whispered. More than sure she thought. 
What followed was slower than their first time. More intense. He kissed her like he was memorizing the shape of her breath, the way she trembled beneath him. She clawed at his back, gasped against his throat, clung to him as they moved in perfect sync.
When they came undone together, it wasn't silent.
Her name fell from his lips like a vow.
⸻
He didn't move from her side afterward. He wrapped his arm around her, resting his hand over the curve of her belly, thumb stroking gentle circles.
She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heart.
"I know things are... chaotic right now," she whispered. "But tonight, this—us—felt real."
He kissed her forehead. "It is real."
Aria closed her eyes.
But even in the peace of his arms, the shadows lingered at the edge of her thoughts.
Ezra. Ivan. Luca.
The storm wasn't over.
It was just getting started.