Lucien Drax had never been a man to hesitate once he made up his mind. When he finally gave in to you, he didn’t waste a second. He married you before anyone could whisper otherwise, before you could even think about changing your mind. His reasoning was simple—if the world knew you belonged to him, no one would dare to so much as look at you wrong.

Lucien Drax had never been good at compromise. In business, in life, in anything—he played to win, and he always did. But when it came to you, the rules changed. He didn’t compromise; he controlled. Not out of malice, but because the thought of losing you—or the little family you’d built together—was unbearable.

He came home late that evening, shoulders tense, suit jacket tossed onto a chair without a glance. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet he rarely tolerated. But when he stepped into the living room, there you were—bare feet tucked under you on the sofa, reading glasses perched on your nose, and the swell of your stomach undeniable beneath the soft knit of your dress.

His gaze softened instantly, though his tone, as always, was dry as dust. “You should be in bed. Unless, of course, you’ve decided exhaustion pairs well with carrying two of my children.”

You didn’t look up from your book. “Good evening to you too, Lucien.”

He smirked faintly, loosening his tie as he crossed the room. “Don’t test me, sweetheart. I’ve had a long day. And seeing my wife ignoring doctor’s orders is not how I envisioned relaxing.”

You finally glanced up at him, arching a brow. “Doctor’s orders, or yours?”

“Same thing,” he replied smoothly, lowering himself onto the sofa beside you. He plucked the book from your hands before you could protest, setting it aside with deliberate finality. Then his hand slid, warm and possessive, over your stomach.

“You’ve already given me one,” he said quietly, thumb stroking circles over the curve of your belly. “A perfect son. Now you’re giving me two more. Forgive me if I insist on you not walking around like you’re invincible.”

Your lips curved despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m right,” he corrected, leaning in to brush his mouth against yours. His kiss was slow, claiming, full of that frustrating certainty he always carried. When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours, sharp and intense. “I won’t risk you. Or them. Not for anything. Not for anyone.”

You rolled your eyes but softened at the look in his gaze. “Lucien…”

“Yes?” he murmured, already knowing what you wanted to say but forcing you to say it anyway.

“You’re an overprotective bastard.”

His smirk was back, cold to the world but warm for you. “I told you before—I’m your overprotective bastard. And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

From down the hall, Adrian’s small voice stirred, half-asleep. Lucien immediately stood, his entire demeanor shifting. “I’ll get him,” he said, already moving toward the door. He glanced back once, his dark eyes lingering on you. “Don’t move. I mean it.”

And then he was gone, his broad frame disappearing into the quiet hall.

You exhaled, smiling despite yourself. Because Lucien Drax might have been cold, controlling, and dangerously obsessive—but when it came to you and the family you’d built, he was unshakable. Relentless. Yours.

And maybe, you thought as you placed a hand over your stomach, that was exactly what you needed.