THE SAFE ROOM SECRET

“Is this baby mine?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp enough to draw blood.

Dominic’s icy gaze was locked onto mine. He didn’t blink. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths.

I could have lied. I could have told him it belonged to an ex-boyfriend. A mistake from before I took the job.

But Dominic Russo didn’t tolerate lies.

And I was tired of hiding.

“Yes.”

My voice was barely a whisper, but in the dead silence of the hallway, it sounded like a gunshot.

Dominic didn’t explode. He didn’t shout.

Instead, a terrifying stillness came over him.

He looked down at the ultrasound in his hand. His thumb gently, almost imperceptibly, brushed over the printed date.

Twenty-one weeks.

“That night in the safe room,” he said, his voice completely hollow. “The perimeter alarm was tripped. We were locked in for ten hours.”

“I know.”

“You were shaking.”

“I was terrified, Dominic.”

“And I told you I would keep you safe.” He finally looked up, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes made my breath hitch. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought I forced you?”

“No!” I stepped forward instantly, the instinct to comfort him overriding my fear. “No, Dominic. That night... we both needed comfort. We both wanted it. I never blamed you.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked, a rough, jagged sound. “Why hide my own child from me for five months?”

I wrapped my arms around my stomach.

“Because you are Dominic Russo. You have guards at every door. You screen the mail. You track my car. You look at Lily like the world is constantly trying to take her from you.”

I swallowed hard.

“I didn’t know what you would do to me if you found out I was carrying your heir. I thought you would take the baby and send me away.”

Dominic stared at me.

Then, very slowly, he reached out.

His bruised knuckles hovered just an inch from the thick wool of my oversized sweater.

“Take it off, Norah.”

It wasn’t a threat this time. It was a plea.

My hands trembled as I reached for the hem. I pulled the heavy cable-knit sweater over my head and let it drop to the marble floor.

Beneath it, I wore a tight black tank top.

There was no hiding it anymore. The curve of my stomach was pronounced, undeniable. A twenty-one-week physical reality.

Dominic’s breath hitched.

He dropped to his knees right there in the hallway.

The most dangerous man in the city lowered his head, pressing his forehead gently against my stomach.

He closed his eyes.

I felt his broad shoulders shaking.

“Dominic,” I whispered, burying my fingers in his dark hair.

Suddenly, a sharp, hard kick struck exactly where his forehead rested.

Dominic gasped, pulling back slightly. His wide eyes looked up at me in pure wonder.

“Did you feel that?” he breathed.

“I feel it all day,” I smiled through my tears.

For one beautiful, impossible moment, we were just a mother and a father.

Then, the moment shattered.

Dominic’s expression hardened into something cold and lethal. He stood up abruptly, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Go pack your things.”

I froze. “What?”

“Only the essentials. Clothes. Passports.” He didn’t look at me, his thumbs flying across the screen. “I’m having a private jet fueled at Teterboro.”

Panic seized my throat. “You’re sending me away?”

“I’m sending you to Switzerland.” He looked at me, his eyes dead and professional. “I have a secure compound in Zurich. Four armed guards. A private doctor. You’ll be safe there.”

“No.”

Dominic stopped texting. “Norah—”

“I am not going to Switzerland! I am not leaving Lily. I am not leaving my home!”

“This isn’t a negotiation!” Dominic roared, his sudden anger echoing off the walls. “You are pregnant with my child! Do you have any idea what they will do to you if they find out?”

“Who is they?!” I yelled back.

Dominic stared at me, his chest heaving.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, tarnished silver pocket watch.

He threw it onto the entry table. It clattered loudly against the wood.

“The night of the lockdown,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. “The night this baby was conceived. I thought it was a random breach.”

He pointed at the watch.

“My men found that in the grass near the breached fence this morning. I recognized it immediately.”

My eyes moved to the watch. “Whose is it?”

“It belongs to Vincent. My late wife’s brother.”

Dominic stepped closer to me, his presence suffocating.

“Elena didn’t die in a random car crash, Norah. She was murdered. And she was five months pregnant when they ran her off the road.”

The blood drained from my face.

Dominic’s eyes were filled with absolute terror.

“Vincent didn’t trip the alarm twenty-two weeks ago to kill me,” Dominic said. “He tripped it to test my security. And now he’s coming back. You are leaving tonight.”

Before I could answer, the heavy oak front door swung open.

A smooth, chilling voice drifted into the hallway.

“Leaving so soon? But I brought gifts.”

We both turned.