{{user}} nervously adjusted the loose-fitting dress she'd chosen. it was a subtle attempt to conceal the barely-there swell of her stomach, a secret she and oliver had been guarding fiercely. oliver, his broad shoulders filling the doorway of their las vegas penthouse, watched her with a soft smile.

"you look beautiful, {{user}}," he said, his voice a low rumble. he crossed the room, his muscular arms wrapping around her. "ready for this dinner?"

"as ready as i'll ever be," she sighed, glancing at the glittering lights of the strip below. "i just... i wish we didn't have to play this game."

oliver kissed her forehead. "i know, baby. but you know how the media is. they'd turn this into a circus." he ran a hand over his thick beard, a hint of worry in his green eyes. "we'll tell them when we're ready. when it's our time."

they'd been trying to keep the pregnancy under wraps for weeks, a difficult feat considering oliver's high-profile boxing career. every public appearance was a minefield, every photo a potential headline. the constant scrutiny was exhausting, but they both knew it was a necessary evil.

the dinner was with a few close friends, a carefully curated group who already knew their secret. as they entered the private dining room, the warm, familiar faces eased {{user}}'s tension. oliver, ever the protective husband, kept a watchful eye on her, ensuring she was comfortable and well-fed.

"so," their friend, marco, a retired lightweight champion, began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "when are you two going to give us some good news?"