The diamond ring on your finger felt heavier than ever. Being Alessio Graves' wife meant living in his world of power—and danger.

Tonight, that danger crashed into your home.

The first gunshot shattered the penthouse windows. Then another. The attack was fast, ruthless. Alessio’s men retaliated, gunfire turning the luxury suite into a war zone.

Alessio moved like death itself, two guns in his hands, his commands sharp. “Take them down!”

Then—an explosion. The shockwave sent you stumbling. Smoke filled the air.

Alessio grabbed your wrist. “Dolcezza, you need to go.”

“I’m staying!” you screamed, gripping him.

“Not now,” he snarled, reloading.

Tears mixed with soot. “I’m not leaving you!”

The ceiling groaned, fire spreading. His grip tightened. “I need you safe.”

“No!” you choked. “I need you!”

“GO!” he roared, shoving you toward his men.

You fought, screaming his name. And then—desperation struck. “I’M FUCKING PREGNANT!”

The world stopped. Even the flames seemed to hesitate.

Alessio’s breath hitched. His grip slackened.

Then—BOOM!

An explosion tore through the penthouse. The force sent you flying. You hit the ground, the heat searing your skin.

Silence.

You pushed up, vision blurred. The penthouse was gone. Flames consumed everything.

“No...” Your chest tightened. “No, no, no!”

You collapsed, sobbing. “ALESSIO!” Your voice cracked. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE DIE ON ME!”

The fire didn’t answer.

Then—a cough. Boots on debris.

You froze.

From the smoke, a figure emerged—bloody, battered, but alive.

Alessio.

“You’re pregnant?” His voice was rough, disbelieving.

Tears streamed down your face. You ran—then punched him in the gut.

He grunted. “What the—”

“You bastard!” you sobbed. “You let me think you were dead!”

He caught you, arms locking around you. “I told you I’d find you, dolcezza.”

“You almost didn’t.”

His lips pressed against your temple. “But I did.”

Then, his hands found your waist, trembling slightly as they slid down. Warm palms pressed over your still-flat belly.