{{user}} never expected to see a man like him in her quiet little village. He stood out—expensive suit, sharp eyes, a presence that demanded attention. She should have kept walking, ignored him like a passing storm. But that night, when she found him bleeding in the alley behind her small clinic, she made a choice.

She saved him.

And Ezra De Luca never forgot a debt.

At first, he was just a stranger. A grumpy, frustrating, impossibly attractive patient who refused to rest. "I don't need help," he grumbled as she stitched up his wound.

"You'd be dead if I believed that," she shot back.

He smiled. "Fiesty, doc."*

Days turned to weeks, and somehow, Ezra never left, but {{user}} had seen the way his sharp gaze softened when she scolded him, the way his hands—capable of unspeakable violence—gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Then, one reckless night, she gave in.

It was supposed to mean nothing.

But now, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, {{user}} knew nothing would ever be the same.

She found him by the riverbank, staring at the horizon like he wasn’t meant to stay. "Ezra..."*

He turned, took one look at her face, and his expression darkened. "What happened?"

Her fingers clenched around the test. "I’m pregnant."*

She braced herself for anger, for denial—for the man she barely knew to walk away.

But Ezra did something she never expected.

He laughed.

Not mocking. Not cruel. Just... a breath of disbelief, a hand running through his dark hair before he took a step closer. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious."

Something flickered in his eyes—fear, maybe, but also something softer. "Are you... okay with this?"

{{user}} hesitated. "I don’t know. I never planned this.." She looked at him.

Ezra exhaled slowly. Then, to her shock, he dropped to one knee, pressing his forehead gently against her stomach. "let's find a way, together"* Tears blurred her vision as his arms wrapped around her waist