chapter[38]

chapter[38]
CHAPTER 38


Noah.

Being enveloped in such profound happiness was a feeling I could hardly believe I would ever experience. There was a time when I never imagined I would fall deeply in love, let alone marry the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. Now, I found myself eagerly awaiting the arrival of our three children. It felt surreal, almost like a dream from which I didn’t want to wake. I couldn’t ask for anything more; life had presented me with a gift I had never dared to hope for, a miracle I had long thought was beyond my reach.

As I contemplated the future, a pivotal decision regarding my illegal work began to take shape in my mind. The stakes were too high, and I had enough enemies as it was. I couldn’t afford to lose her or our unborn children. The thought of anything happening to them filled me with dread, an overwhelming fear that gripped my heart. I would wait impatiently for the day I could hold them in my arms, feeling their tiny bodies against me, knowing I’d do anything to protect them with every fiber of my being. This was my new purpose, my new life.

But for now, my primary concern was Selena’s safety, especially after receiving that chilling text from an unknown source. The message had threatened that my baby would never be born, and that Selena would never truly belong to me. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine, cold and unwelcome. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I commanded my men to track down the sender of that ominous message, but I knew all too well how futile that could be—it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, a task that felt increasingly impossible as I considered the risks involved.

To ensure her safety, I stationed my men around Selena and myself, creating a protective barrier against the outside world. I couldn’t shake the unease that settled in my stomach; it was a constant reminder of the dangers lurking just outside our blissful bubble. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, and I was torn between wanting to be close to her and giving her the space she needed. She often asked to step outside for just a few minutes to breathe fresh air, a simple request that felt monumental to me. But all I could think about was keeping her safe until I could finalize our wedding preparations.

The wedding we were planning was going to be opulent, a royal affair that would be the talk of the town for years to come. I had been texting Steven incessantly, issuing commands about what needed to be done and what should be avoided. He was incredibly helpful, often reminding me to step back and let him and Ahmet handle the logistics. But I struggled with that notion. I wanted this moment to be etched in Selena's memory forever, a day she would cherish and look back on with joy.

After what felt like an eternity of planning and waiting, I finally suggested we take a break from our suite and do something different. We couldn’t remain cooped up in one room for the rest of our lives, no matter how enjoyable our time together had been. We had shared countless intimate moments, from making love at least twice a day to watching horror movies that had me laughing at her frightened reactions. It was strange, perhaps, but I loved seeing her scream and then snuggle closer to me for comfort. Those moments always ended with kisses and a long night of making out on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in our own little world.

I had taken to feeding her every meal by hand, relishing in the role of a loving partner. It felt like I was nurturing a newborn, and there was something incredibly satisfying about that. Even showering became a shared experience; I loved the way my hands glided over her skin, the intimacy of our bodies together in the warm water. We often found ourselves lost in playful touches and sensual teasing, the air thick with unspoken desire. It wasn’t just about physical attraction; it was about love and commitment, about sharing everything that life threw our way, the good and the bad, the light and the dark.

I recalled what Selena had told me early in our relationship about her previous boyfriend—that sharing everything was the essence of love. Shopping, sleeping, eating, and even reading together. It made me realize how important it was for us to be intertwined in every aspect of our lives. I had intended to encourage her writing but had postponed that thought until after the wedding festivities. But now, I found myself struck by inspiration; I wanted her to write a novel about us, to capture our story on the page in a way that would make it immortal.

When I broached the idea with her, I was pleasantly surprised when she embraced it enthusiastically. It didn't upset her at all; in fact, she seemed energized by the prospect of weaving our experiences into a narrative. I watched in awe as she began to churn out words at an incredible pace, her creativity flowing like a river that refused to be dammed. It was evident she was destined to be a bestselling author, her talent shining brightly for all to see. Perhaps her passion for writing fueled her success, and I felt proud to support her in any way I could.

After hours of quietly observing her, I eventually succumbed to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster we were on. I didn’t want to interrupt her flow of inspiration, knowing how precious that was for a writer. But when I woke up, I realized she was still lost in her world, typing away relentlessly, completely absorbed in her creative process. I checked my phone, my heart sinking when I realized I had slept for more than ten hours. That meant she had been working for over thirty hours straight, and my heart filled with concern.

This wasn’t good for her health, and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I had pushed her to start writing the book without considering the toll it might take on her. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t moved, and hadn’t even noticed my absence. I couldn’t let this continue. I needed to intervene, and I jumped out of bed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, sweetheart,” I whispered gently, hoping to rouse her from her creative stupor.

She startled, turning to me with bleary eyes that were only half open. She looked pale and exhausted, and my heart ached at the sight. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt because she was pushing herself so hard for my sake. “Good morning, hon. Sorry, I didn’t notice you were there,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, barely a whisper.

I reached out and took her hand, helping her to sit up. She stumbled slightly, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, concerned. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice laced with worry that only deepened with each passing moment.

She nodded, trying to reassure me. “Yes, don’t worry. I was just inspired and couldn’t stop.” Her determination was admirable, but I couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at me.

I pressed my lips to hers quickly, hoping to convey my concern through affection. “I see that. But you need to stop now. You should eat, and my stomach is growling. Please,” I pleaded, trying to lighten the mood with a grin that I hoped would coax her into compliance.

She cupped my cheeks with her delicate hands, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Okay, I will take a shower now. But you’re not allowed to join me this time.” She winked, her playful spirit shining through, momentarily banishing my worries.

I grinned back, “As you wish. But I’d really like to read what you’ve written. You mentioned something inspired you—what was it?” My curiosity was piqued, and I leaned in closer, eager to hear her thoughts.

She shrugged, a smirk dancing on her lips. “Not something, but someone.”

My heart raced, a twinge of jealousy flickering within me at her words. “Whom?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, my mind racing with possibilities.

She chuckled lightly, her laughter making my heart flutter. “You, idiot.” With that, she leaned in and captured my lips with hers for a few passionate seconds before striding off to the bathroom, leaving me breathless and smiling like a fool.

I settled into a chair, eager to read her first chapter, when suddenly, I heard her voice calling my name. Panic surged through me as I jumped from the chair. “Selena!” I rushed to the bathroom just in time to see her teetering and falling, my heart racing with fear. With quick reflexes, I caught her before she could hit the ground, relief washing over me. If I hadn’t made it in time, she could have seriously hurt herself.

“Selena! Wake up!” I exclaimed, shaking her gently, my voice panicked. But she didn’t respond; her breathing was shallow, and I felt a wave of terror grip me. I quickly covered her with a robe and carried her out of the suite, racing to the nearest hospital my men had secured. I didn’t have time to inform Steven or Ahmet; I couldn’t risk losing her. Nothing else mattered in that moment but her safety.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the doctors finally stabilized her. But the experience had shaken me to my core, leaving me reeling from the fear of losing her. I realized I hadn’t been taking care of her as I should have, and I felt selfish for my insistence on her writing. When the doctor finally delivered the most joyous news—that she was pregnant with triplets—I was overwhelmed. My heart soared with joy, but guilt still gnawed at me, a reminder of how close I had come to losing everything.

I vowed to be a better husband, to protect her and our growing family with every ounce of strength I possessed. I instructed my assistants to gather clothes for both of us, and I dressed her piece by piece, feeling a mix of tenderness and guilt wash over me. Even as I buttoned her jacket, her sweet words of encouragement didn’t ease my self-reproach. I was determined never to let anything like this happen again, to ensure she felt safe and cherished.

“Hon, come back from your dark thoughts,” she snapped, pulling me from my reverie with her sharp voice.

I blinked, startled. “Oh, sorry. Just thinking about what the doctor said.” I tried to mask my concerns, knowing I couldn’t burden her with my fears about my enemies or the perilous nature of my business.

She raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing my expression with piercing intensity. “I don’t think so,” she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

My eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, a teasing glint in her eyes that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. “You’re just upset because we won’t be having fun in bed for a few months.” Her playful banter made me sigh with relief, breaking the tension that had filled the room. I grabbed her and pulled her in for a long, lingering kiss that tasted of promise and love.

“I love you,” I whispered against her lips, pouring every ounce of sincerity into those words.

“I love you too,” she replied, her voice soft and sincere, warm against my heart.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from Steven: “We are ready. Where are you? All the guests are waiting!”

A devilish smirk crept across my face as I took her hand and led her out of the hospital. “Kidnapping you,” I announced with a grin, my heart racing at the thought of what lay ahead.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Where are we going?”

“To our wedding,” I replied, determination filling my voice. She deserved a normal wedding, a beautiful honeymoon, and to be treated like the queen she was. I would do everything in my power to make that happen for her and our family. This was just the beginning of our beautiful life together, and I was ready to face any challenges that lay ahead, as long as I had her by my side.