Chapter 29 - The Room We Never Designed
Two years after the first text message, I found Lucian standing in an empty bedroom.
That was unusual.
There were no empty rooms in the penthouse.
Every space had a purpose.
Library.
Gym.
Guest suites.
Music room.
Security office.
Even Gideon had somehow convinced me to design a “defensive planning room,” which looked suspiciously like a very expensive basement without the basement.
But this room was different.
It overlooked Lake Michigan.
Soft morning light filled the space.
Lucian stood in the center.
“What are you doing?”
He turned.
“Thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
I entered.
There were paint samples on the floor.
I stopped.
“You chose paint?”
“I attempted.”
I picked one up.
Bright yellow.
I stared at him.
“No.”
“I suspected.”
“This looks like mustard.”
“That seemed cheerful.”
“It seems criminal.”
He smiled nervously.
Lucian Moretti.
Nervous.
Then I understood.
My breath caught.
Two weeks earlier, I had taken a pregnancy test.
Then another.
Then gone to a doctor alone because I wanted to be certain.
I had planned to tell him tonight.
Apparently, somehow, he already knew.
“How?”
He looked confused.
“How what?”
I studied his face.
Wait.
“You don't know.”
“Know what?”
I started laughing.
He looked alarmed.
“Harper?”
I covered my mouth.
Then cried.
His alarm became terror.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Did something happen at work?”
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
I reached into my purse.
Pulled out the ultrasound photograph.
Held it toward him.
Lucian stared.
Once.
Twice.
His entire body went still.
“What is that?”
I laughed through tears.
“You know what it is.”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“Harper.”
“I'm pregnant.”
Silence.
I had seen Lucian face armed men.
Federal agents.
Corporate enemies.
The truth about his parents.
Nothing had ever broken through his composure like those two words.
He sat down on the floor.
I stared.
“Lucian?”
He looked at the ultrasound.
Then at me.
“Pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“With a baby.”
“That is generally what it means.”
He laughed.
Then covered his face.
I sat beside him.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
My heart stopped.
He immediately looked up.
“Not bad no.”
“Clarify faster.”
“I don't know how to be a father.”
The fear in his eyes hurt me.
“Neither do I.”
“You'll be incredible.”
“And you won't?”
“My father died when I was nineteen.”
“You had nineteen years with him.”
Lucian looked down.
“What if all I know is how to protect?”
“Then learn the rest.”
“With what manual?”
I smiled.
“We'll buy one.”
He laughed.
I leaned against him.
“What were you doing in here?”
He looked embarrassed.
“I was going to ask whether you wanted to redesign this room.”
“For what?”
“A future nursery.”
Now I cried harder.
“You didn't know?”
“No.”
“You just happened to choose today?”
“Yes.”
I kissed him.
“Then congratulations. Your timing remains terrifying.”
He pulled me close.
For a long time, we sat on the floor.
No security.
No empire.
No lawyers.
Just us.
Then Lucian looked toward the mustard-yellow paint.
“So definitely not this?”
“Absolutely not.”
“What color?”
“We're not doing pink or blue.”
“Agreed.”
“Warm white. Natural oak. Soft green.”
“You've been thinking about this.”
“Maybe.”
He smiled.
“Harper.”
“Yes?”
“We're having a baby.”
“Yes.”
His smile became something I had never seen before.
Pure wonder.
That evening, we told Gideon.
He stared at us.
Then at my stomach.
Then back at Lucian.
“Congratulations.”
I hugged him.
Gideon froze like someone had activated an alarm.
Then awkwardly hugged me back.
Lucian laughed.
Salvatore was next.
He shouted so loudly over the phone that we had to hold it away.
My father cried.
Naomi screamed.
Evelyn sent flowers.
Kyle sent a simple congratulations.
Madison sent a tiny pair of baby socks with no note.
I kept them.
Not because everything was forgotten.
Because some chapters end without every scar disappearing.
And that is still healing.
That night, Lucian placed his hand over my stomach.
“There are two heartbeats in this room.”
“Technically three.”
He looked at me.
I smiled.
“Mine.”
He laughed.
Then kissed me.
May you like
For once, the most important future in the Moretti family had nothing to do with inheritance.
It was sleeping quietly beneath my heart.
