The divorce papers lay between you and Samael Velkanov, heavy as chains.

Your hand trembled as you pushed them forward. “Two years, Samael. No child. You need an heir. I can’t give you one.”

His men stood along the walls, their gazes fixed on the floor. Everyone knew the King’s temper. They expected rage, a slammed fist, maybe even blood.

But Samael only lowered his eyes to the papers. Calm. Silent. Terrifying.

With precise strokes, he signed his name and slid the papers back.

“As you wish.”

And just like that, you walked out of his world.

Months later

The test strip turned pink. Your hands shook. After all this time—you were carrying Samael’s child.

And when he found out, the empire shifted.

His men showed up first, bringing doctors, guards, fresh food to your door. But you noticed the way they avoided your eyes, as if they carried secrets heavier than the deliveries.

One night, when they thought you couldn’t hear, two of them whispered outside your building.

“The boss hasn’t eaten in days.” “He doesn’t sleep either. Just stares at the monitors. Watches her building all night.” “It’s like… without her, he’s not the King anymore.”

The Cold-Blooded King, unraveling.

And then came the night he couldn’t hold back.

The Night Everything Broke

A violent BANG! rattled your apartment door. You jumped, your heart racing.

Samael stormed inside—tie loose, hair disheveled, his white shirt wrinkled as though he hadn’t changed in days. Behind him, his men rushed down the hall, their voices frantic.

“Boss, please!” “Sir, you need rest—” “You can’t just—”

He shoved them aside, slamming the door shut.

When his eyes landed on you, his mask shattered completely. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, cheekbones sharper from nights without food, the weight of obsession dragging him down.

And then… he fell to his knees in front of you.

The sight stole your breath. Samael Velkanov—the King who ruled empires with blood and diamonds—was kneeling, trembling, broken.

His voice cracked.

“I was a fool to let you go. Don’t shut me out again. Please… let me protect you. Let me protect our child.”

His hand reached up, cupping your face as if you were the only anchor left keeping him alive. His thumb brushed your cheek, his lips parted in a whisper that carried his yearning.

“Hug me…”

Your chest tightened as his forehead nearly touched your stomach, his breath shaking against you. And then he lifted his gaze, blue eyes burning with raw desperation.

“Marry me again… moya lyubov’.” (my love)

Outside, you heard his men’s hushed whispers through the door.

“He hasn’t eaten. He hasn’t slept. And now… this?” “The King—begging on his knees…”

But Samael didn’t care. For once, the man who bent nations wasn’t commanding the world—he was surrendering everything for you.