Slade Wilson wasn’t built for softness. Not in his bones, not in his voice, and definitely not in the steel-plated lifestyle he lived.

But the world didn’t care much for design.

He sat in the front seat of a black SUV, one hand on the wheel, the other resting protectively over the slight bulge of his partner’s belly beside him. She was asleep—finally—lulled by the hum of the engine and the security of his presence. No words, no questions. Just trust.

Outside, the world was chaos. A contract left unfinished, enemies on their tail, and miles of open road stretching toward temporary safety.

Inside?

There was a heartbeat that didn’t belong to him, and for once, Slade found himself afraid—not of dying, not of failing the mission—but of not making it back in time to see who that heartbeat would become.

Because now, he wasn’t just a soldier.

He was going to be a father.

Again.

And this time, he wasn’t walking away.