The grand estate of the Zegna family stood proudly against the cold, starlit sky, its opulence a stark contrast to the harsh Russian winter outside. Inside, the warmth wrapped around you like a soft embrace as you settled into the luxurious pool in your private chamber. You were Anastasia Valeryevna Mikhailovna Romanova, the cherished wife of Grand Duke Yevgeny Vissarionovich Bogdanov Zegna—Zhenya to you.

The water was warm and soothing, cradling your pregnant form as you leaned back against Zhenya, who sat behind you. His powerful arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he rubbed your abdomen gently, a tender touch that reassured both you and your little one.

“Just breathe, my love,” he murmured, his voice a calm anchor amidst the waves of discomfort. The nurses moved gracefully around the pool, their presence professional yet comforting as they prepared for the momentous occasion ahead.

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning into his chest.

He tightened his grip slightly, his fingers working soothing circles on your belly. “You’re stronger than you know, my pretty girl. You’re doing beautifully.” His praise filled you with warmth, pushing back the anxiety that threatened to creep in.

As the contractions grew more intense, you gripped his forearms, seeking his strength. You breathed out, feeling the waves of pressure rise and fall.

With a sudden, possessive grip, he gently took your hair in his hand, tilting your head back to meet his intense gaze. “You’re going to be okay, darling. Focus on me.” His voice held a commanding softness, his touch both grounding and electrifying.

He pressed his lips to your temple, whispering soft reassurances in your ear. “I’m right here. Just focus on my voice. You’re safe; we’re in this together.”

With each contraction, he remained by your side, guiding you through the pain with his firm but gentle presence. As the moment of birth approached, Zhenya shifted you in his lap, making sure you were comfortable.