Morning came quietly.
Soft light filtering through the curtains.
Curtains half drawn.
Stillness lingering in the room.
Leah was awake.
Quiet.
One hand resting gently over her stomach.
Three months along now.
A small curve now was visible now.
Subtle.
But undeniably there.
Real.
Her fingers traced it lightly.
Slow.
Careful.
A soft breath.
Then—
warmth.
Weight.
Izana.
His head rested against her stomach.
Like it belonged there.
Like it had always belonged there.
His arm draped across her waist.
Protective.
Natural.
A pause.
Then—
a soft press of his lips.
"…Good morning."
Low.
Barely above a whisper.
Another kiss.
Slower.
"…Did you sleep well?"
Leah's lips curved faintly.
"…I did."
A small pause.
"…You?"
"…I watched you."
Simple.
Unapologetic.
Leah exhaled softly.
"…Of course you did."
A quiet beat passed between them.
Her fingers moved into his hair.
Light.
Gentle.
"…You didn't sleep much."
"…Enough."
Not convincing.
But familiar.
She didn't push.
Never did.
Another kiss.
Lower this time.
Lingering just a little longer.
His hand shifted slightly.
Spreading over the small curve.
Careful.
Always careful.
"…You're growing."
Leah looked down.
Her hand followed his.
"…We are."
A small correction.
Soft.
He didn't argue.
Just leaned closer again.
Another kiss.
"…Good morning."
But not to her.
Leah watched him quietly.
That quiet change in him.
That softness he never showed anyone else.
It had been two months.
And still—
every day—
every morning—
every night—
this.
The same routine.
Consistent.
Certain.
"…You're obsessed," she murmured lightly.
A pause.
"…Yes."
No hesitation at all.
Leah let out a soft laugh.
"…At least you admit it."
"…There's nothing to hide."
Another kiss.
"…Be good today."
A small pause.
"…Don't trouble her too much."
Leah raised a brow slightly.
"…You're talking to the baby again."
"…Yes."
"…They can't listen yet."
"…That's fine."
A beat.
"…I'll still talk."
Leah smiled softly.
"…You talk more to them than me."
"…No."
A pause.
"…I talk to both of you."
"…That's not the same."
"…It is."
Quiet.
Certain.
Leah shook her head slightly.
But she didn't argue further.
Couldn't.
Her fingers brushed through his hair again.
Slow.
Comforting.
"…They like you."
"…They should."
A beat.
"…I'm their father."
There it was again.
That quiet certainty.
That grounding presence.
Leah's chest tightened slightly.
Not pain.
Something softer.
"…We still haven't done the nursery."
The words slipped out gently.
Unforced.
Izana stilled.
Just slightly.
Then slowly—
he lifted his head.
Eyes finding hers.
Clear.
Focused.
Present.
"…We can do it whenever you want."
Leah's lips curved warmly.
"…Tomorrow?"
A pause.
Then—
a quiet chuckle.
Soft.
Rare.
"…You're eager."
"…I've been waiting."
"…For two months?"
"…Yes."
A beat passed.
"…You've been busy."
A small glance.
Meaningful.
He didn't deny it.
"…Tomorrow," he said.
"…We'll go tomorrow."
Leah's smile widened.
Brighter now.
"…Really?"
"…Yes."
"…You won't cancel?"
A pause.
His gaze didn't shift.
Didn't waver.
"…No."
Another beat.
"…Promise?"
"…Promise."
Simple.
Final.
Leah relaxed back slightly.
Satisfied.
Happy.
"…We need everything."
"…We'll get everything."
"…You don't even know what we need."
"…Then you'll tell me."
"…And you'll listen?"
"…Yes."
A pause.
"…Even if it's unnecessary?"
"…If you want it, it's necessary."
Leah blinked once.
Then laughed softly.
"…You're dangerous."
"…I know."
Another kiss.
Gentler now.
Slower.
Like he didn't want to leave yet.
"…I'll see you later."
A soft press to her stomach.
Lingering.
"…Behave."
Leah rolled her eyes slightly.
"…You're impossible."
"…I'm right."
A final kiss to her forehead.
Warm.
Careful.
"…Rest."
"…I will."
He stood.
Adjusted slightly.
Still composed.
Always composed.
He moved toward the door.
Then paused.
Just for a second longer.
Looking back.
At her.
At them.
His gaze softened.
Barely.
Then—
the door closed.
Downstairs.
Office.
Colder.
Quieter.
Controlled.
Dante was already there.
Seated.
Relaxed.
Too relaxed.
Feet slightly stretched out in front of him.
Like he owned the place.
A glance up.
Then—
a smirk.
"…You're late."
No response.
Izana moved past him.
Sat down.
Calm.
Collected.
The shift—
instant.
Everything from upstairs—
gone.
Locked away again.
"…Still working from home?"
"…Yes."
"…Two months now."
A pause.
"…Didn't think I'd see this."
Silence.
Izana didn't engage.
Dante leaned forward slightly.
Eyes sharper now.
"…You've changed."
Nothing.
"…More careful."
Still nothing.
"…More… attached."
A pause.
Then—
"…Irrelevant."
Dante exhaled softly.
Amused.
"…Right."
A beat.
Then—
"…Tomorrow."
Izana's gaze lifted slightly.
Focused.
"…What about it."
"…You're needed."
"…Explain."
"…Weapons deal," Dante said.
"…High-tier. Not something I can handle alone."
Silence.
Short.
Then—
"…You can."
"…I won't."
A pause.
"…You'll be there."
Izana's jaw tightened.
Barely noticeable.
"…I have plans."
Dante tilted his head slightly.
"…Going out?"
Not a question.
Silence.
Then—
"…Yes."
Dante let out a quiet laugh.
"…You're serious."
"…I gave my word."
"…To Leah."
"…Yes."
A pause.
Dante studied him.
Longer this time.
"…You don't break promises."
"…No."
"…So what now."
Silence stretched slightly.
Then—
Izana leaned back a little.
Thinking.
Measured.
"…You'll go with her."
Dante blinked once.
"…What."
"…Take men."
A pause.
"…Stay with her."
Another pause.
"…Ensure her safety."
"…And you?"
"…I'll attend the meeting."
Dante leaned back again.
Watching him closely.
"…You're choosing both."
"…I'm ensuring both."
Flat.
Final.
Dante exhaled slowly.
"…You really have changed."
No answer.
Just silence.
Then—
"…How's she been?"
The shift—
instant.
Subtle.
But clear.
Izana's expression softened.
Just slightly.
"…Better."
A pause.
"…The sickness isn't as frequent now."
"…And when it is?"
"…I stay."
Simple.
"…Of course you do."
Another pause.
"…And the baby?"
A beat.
Then—
"…Active."
A faint shift in his tone.
Warmer.
"…Causes her trouble."
Dante smirked faintly.
"…You blame them?"
"…No."
A pause.
"…They can't control it."
"…At least you know that."
Silence.
Then—
Dante leaned forward slightly again.
Studying him more closely.
"…Every time you talk about them…"
A pause.
"…You change."
No response.
"…You get soft."
Still nothing.
"…You get… happy."
A longer pause.
Then—
"…I am."
Quiet.
But certain.
Dante didn't smirk this time.
Didn't tease.
Just watched him.
Understanding something.
Slowly.
"…Dangerous," he murmured.
Izana's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Necessary."
A beat.
"…They matter."
The words settled.
Different.
Heavier.
Real.
Dante leaned back again.
Silent now.
Thinking.
Because for the first time—
Izana wasn't just protecting power.
Or territory.
Or control.
He was protecting something else entirely.
Something softer.
Something fragile.
Something human.
And that—
changed everything.
Silence settled again.
Heavy.
But not empty.
Because upstairs—
Leah was there.
Waiting.
And for the first time—
that mattered more than anything else.