–Livana–

In the Blackwell Residence.

My stomach has grown vast, heavy as though I cradle a world within me. Four months have passed, and labor draws near. Rising from the sofa feels impossible, as if gravity itself conspires to keep me bound, reminding me of the empire I carry in my womb.

Laura gave birth three months ago, and it was glorious—another set of twins, their cries echoing like new trumpets of life. My husband shook his head when he saw they were all boys. That means Zendaya remains the only princess of the Blackwell family on Damien’s side, a jewel among warriors, a single blossom in a garden of steel.

Now, Ares and Alexander are two months old, and little Zendaya, though only three years old, helps care for them with surprising grace. Skyler, our Sky, celebrated his second birthday four months ago, laughter filling the halls like music.

"Here, my dear," my mother-in-law said, handing me a bowl of mixed fruits.

I stayed on the sofa, eating greedily, too heavy to rise. My husband has been working endlessly, after forging treaties with leaders across the world. My back aches, a constant reminder of the burden I carry. Damn it—I will not go through another pregnancy after this.

"Babies," Sky whispered, hugging my swollen belly and kissing it. His warmth seeped into me, a balm against the ache.

It was already seven in the evening, yet hunger gnawed at me still. I tried to control my meals, but the craving was relentless.

David arrived, his clothes wrinkled, dark circles shadowing his eyes. He looked three times more worn than before, consumed by work. He sat beside me, leaning against my shoulder.

"Sis," he murmured.

"Yes?"

"Please... do me a favor."

"What is it?"

"I want to know all about her. She’s not a traitor, right?"

I continued eating, sharing the fruit with him. He accepted it silently.

"You should move on," I said softly. "The building in Greenland is almost finished."

"Oh, yeah. You really want to get rid of me?" He grinned, weary but playful. I chuckled.

"No, not at all. It’s a new environment. Pack tonight—I’ll call for a jet tomorrow."

"But can it wait until you give birth? I want to see the triplets."

"I’m not due for eight weeks."

"Alright then." He kissed my head, resting his hand gently on my belly. "Where’s your husband?"

I patted his arm.

"Just pack, alright?"

"Okay, got it."

"Tito!" Sky called, tugging David’s hand. David smiled, taking him upstairs.

Finally, my husband arrived. His eyes found mine, a wink exchanged, but he first went to the seashell fountain in the corner, washing his hands thoroughly. A fresh towel awaited him. He removed his coat, handing it to the butler, then approached me. His arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting the weight of my belly, easing the strain. I straightened, leaning into him, sighing in relief as his kiss brushed my earlobe.

"Better?" he asked. I nodded, still pressed against him.

"Dinner is ready," Jane called, her dress flowing around her visible bump. She was pregnant too, smiling as she saw us.

"Oh, so that’s how you do it?" she teased.

"My back is nearly breaking," I murmured.

"Use a support," Jane advised. "You left it upstairs."

"Ugh, yes," I sighed. Forgetfulness has become my companion these days.

*****

After four months—we finally settled back into full operation. My husband funded it, of course, since we monitored his shipments. Smuggled ones. Gemstones and rarities. He owns the black market now, and it bends to his will.

Sophia and Kai arrived yesterday. She had given birth two months ago, and we are already planning a grand family event in the coming weeks—Alyssa and Lore’s engagement party. Their wedding has been postponed time and again, circumstances shifting like tides, but their bond remains unbroken. Still in school, they will celebrate with her friends, and I am happy for them. Lore deserved a break after all the work we poured into setting up the Nests. His parents are here too, and the dining table has been expanded to hold this ever-growing empire of family.

"I also checked that garden. Vines are thriving. It’s perfect," Alyssa said.

The wedding will be held in one of the residences Lore purchased for them. Their own home. Not far from the Blackwell Residence, but vast enough to be theirs alone. Lorenzo is a millionaire, and he intends to spend lavishly for her.

"And how about Louie? When are you getting married?" Yolanda asked. Louie, still CEO of the company my mother built, cringed. Older than his brother Lorenzo, yet still single.

"Uhhh, Mom, this is about the Blackwell, okay?" he deflected, while our grandparents laughed.

"Shoot!" Lorenzo grumbled. "We need to set up Louie first, babe. And David too. They won’t let us marry until they’re married."

Alyssa laughed, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with him.

I shook my head. They had already tried to set David up with Kelly.

"Please~~ I’m going abroad. Don’t get married until then," David said loudly.

"Yes, exactly, brother," Louie agreed, nodding.

"I haven’t recovered perfectly, guys," Kai added, only to stop himself before saying something inappropriate. Caine snickered.

The cries of the new twins echoed from the nursery, not far from the dining hall.

"Are they hungry again?" Damien asked, rising and patting his wife’s shoulder. "I’ll check on them."

Two sets of twins now—it is chaos, but not despair. I am not worried. We have staff, in-laws, and my mother.

My father remains out of the picture. Not dead, but still paying for his sins. Carrie still works for Tyrona. Somehow, Tyrona and I have reached a mutual understanding. She no longer dares foolishness, not after I protected her family and her precious son. Andro often comes to play with the children. He is always welcome.

Across the table, I looked at Aelia, perched on her father’s lap, eating delicately. She is beautiful, the image of Deanne.

After dinner, we gathered on the patio for drinks. I walked through the garden with my husband, fingers intertwined. Our son stayed behind with the others. We do not yet know the gender of the triplets—I want the surprise. Alyssa already knows, and tomorrow she plans a reveal. David’s flight is at night, so the afternoon will be filled with celebration.

"Our empire is growing," Damon said.

"Our family too," I chuckled. "I need an IUD, my love. I cannot get pregnant again. I’m tired."

"I’m sorry," he murmured, scooping my face and kissing my lips. "But four is enough—for now." His grin was mischievous. "If they’re all boys, I can’t promise you..."

I smacked his chest, laughing.

He caressed my hair, and I closed my eyes, leaning into him.

"I’m tired, husband."

"Got you."

He carried me upstairs, prepared a bath, scrubbed my body with care, even trimmed the little hair I had though I protested. I slipped into his oversized shirt, my belly stretching the fabric, his pajama pants loose but comforting. He guided me to the massage bed with its hollow center for my stomach. Relief washed over me as he massaged my back with essential oils, safe and soothing. His touch was gentle, precise.

He is the best husband. My only husband.

I nearly drifted to sleep, but he fixed my clothes, tucked me into bed, and massaged my calves, ankles, even my toes.

"Mama!" Sky barged in, already in pajamas. He climbed onto the bed, helping his father massage my foot. His smile lit the room, and watching them together made my eyes sting.

I am not usually emotional, but this second pregnancy has softened me. I sniffled. Damon stopped.

"Love? Why are you crying?"

"Nothing. Both of you are just adorable." I wiped my tears as they continued. I snapped a photo of the father-and-son duo, my heart swelling.

When they finished, Sky snuggled to my right, Damon to my left. Damon turned off the lights, rubbing my belly.

"Nighty, Mama. Nighty, Dada. Nighty, babies," Sky whispered, kissing me and my tummy.

Damon muttered good night, already snoring lightly. Sky nestled against me, asleep in moments.

Just wow. They are so alike.

I reached for my phone, messaging my Bishop in Greenland with details about David’s arrival in two days.

Then, a notification. Caller ID: Ghost. Odd.

Ghost: You didn’t say anything to David, right?

Ice Queen: No. What are you afraid of?

Ghost: Just make sure he’s not accessing my files again.

I chuckled, shaking my head.

Ice Queen: A promise is a promise. But I’m curious, dear. Does he really piss you off that much?

Ghost: I don’t need to explain anything...

Ice Queen: Oh, too bad. David is a wreck. He hasn’t slept well at all. He’s lost weight.

Ghost: Don’t guilt-trip me. A deal is a deal.

I chuckled again, but froze when I felt my husband’s gaze on me—sharp, possessive, burning through the dim light.

"Who are you texting?" he asked, voice low, commanding.

I slipped my phone back onto the bedside table, my tone deliberately evasive.

"Hmm, not for your eyes, my love."

Jealousy. Possessiveness. That’s my husband—always overreacting, always staking his claim.

"Give it to me," he growled. Damn, that sound—dangerous, dominant, and yet so intoxicating.

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Just sleep," I said, patting him lightly. But he didn’t blink. His stare held me captive, unwavering, until I relented.

I unlocked my phone and handed it to him. The messages began disappearing, one by one, automatically erasing themselves like ghosts fading into smoke.

"Ghost?" he muttered, sighing as he returned the phone.

I turned away, placing it back on the table. When I looked at him again, he was already asleep, snoring softly—like nothing had happened, as if the storm of his jealousy had dissolved into the quiet rhythm of his breath.