Chapter 117 When will you finally tell everyone you’re ours

Chapter 117 When will you finally tell everyone you’re ours


Peace felt incredibly strange.

It was a foreign concept, almost deeply suspicious. For the first few days after the echoes of that final gunshot faded from the warehouse, I kept expecting the other shoe to drop. I lived in a constant state of hyper-vigilance, braced for a cryptic text message, a sudden knock on the door, or a shifting shadow just beyond the windowpane.

But absolutely nothing came.

There were no more threats. No more unknown numbers flashing across my screen. No more blood spilled on the hardwood. There was only silence—a deep, genuine, and profound silence. And somehow, I was still trying to learn how to exist inside it without holding my breath.

It had been three weeks since the confrontation at the shipyard. Three weeks since Lucien definitively ended the Hollow Circle's reign of terror. Three weeks since I stood on the precipice of losing absolutely everything.

Now, the atmosphere inside the Voss estate felt entirely different. It was warmer, lighter, and undeniably safer.

Megan was back in her own home, focus shifting entirely to recovering alongside her brother, Mason. Despite my constant protests, she still insisted on calling me every single day just to apologize for her part in the chaos. I kept telling her to stop; it wasn't her fault. None of it was. We had all been pieces on someone else's board.

Even Ethan had managed to calm down. Well, not entirely. He still monitored Lucien, Vincent, and Zane with a look that suggested he was watching high-profile criminals, but at least he wasn't actively trying to punch anyone anymore. In our world, that counted as massive progress.

Lately, my pregnancy had become the absolute center of the universe. And I meant everything.

If I sneezed, Vincent completely panicked, ready to call a specialist. If I yawned, Lucien immediately demanded to know if I needed to retreat to bed for more sleep. If I stood up a fraction too fast, Zane was already magically appearing at my elbow to steady my balance. It was completely ridiculous, bordering on suffocating.

And honestly? It was the sweetest thing I had ever experienced.

Morning Patrol

That particular morning, I woke up slowly to the rich, sweet aroma of fresh pancakes drifting through the air. My eyes cracked open as warm, soft sunlight spilled through the heavy velvet curtains, painting patterns across the bedsheets. For a long moment, I just lay there, soaking in the absolute tranquility of it all.

Until I tried to shift and felt a heavy, distinct weight pressing down on me.

I looked down, blinking against the light. Vincent. He was fast asleep, his dark head resting directly against my stomach with one massive arm wrapped securely around my waist like a human seatbelt.

I blinked, thoroughly amused. How did he even slip in here without waking me up?

Then I shifted my gaze to the other side of the mattress. Zane was leaning back against the mahogany headboard, also fast asleep, his long fingers still securely loosely entwined with mine.

I stared at them, completely bewildered.

And right on cue, sitting in the armchair positioned perfectly near the window, was Lucien. He was fully dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, sleeping upright with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked exactly like a warlord who had spent the entire night guarding a precious vault.

A sudden bubble of laughter burst from my chest. I couldn't help it. Three incredibly powerful, dangerous grown men—the feared Voss brothers—all squeezed into my bedroom, completely dead to the world.

Vincent was the first to stir, his long eyelashes fluttering open as my laughter shook the bed. He looked up at me, his usual dangerous smirk completely absent, replaced by a sleepy, soft gaze. "Morning, kitten."

I smiled down at him, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead. "Why exactly are you using my belly as a pillow, Vincent?"

He leaned up slightly, pressing a warm, lingering kiss directly against the fabric covering my stomach. "Bonding time. Obviously."

I let out another laugh. "I am pretty sure that's not how prenatal bonding works."

"It is now," he murmured, refusing to let go of his grip on my waist.

Zane woke up next, his sharp eyes instantly focusing as he offered me a quiet, private smile, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles. A second later, Lucien’s eyes snapped open. He adjusted his posture, stretching his massive shoulders slightly before his intense, dark gaze anchored right onto me.

"How do you feel today, Sarah?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly baritone.

I sighed dramatically, a teasing spark in my eyes. "And there it is."

Lucien’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "What?"

"The question," I pointed out, propping myself up on my elbows. "You ask me that exact same thing every single morning, Lucien."

A faint, rare twitch of amusement played at the corner of his lips. "And your response?"

"And I am perfectly fine," I promised him.

Vincent finally slid out of the bed, leaning over to press a firm kiss directly against my forehead. "Good. Let's keep it that way."

Suddenly, right on cue, my stomach let out a massive, incredibly loud growl that echoed through the quiet room.

Vincent gasped, his hand flying to his chest in theatrical shock. "Hear that? She is clearly demanding immediate sustenance."

I rolled my eyes, throwing a pillow straight at his chest, which he caught effortlessly. "Why do you all keep insisting it's a 'she'?"

Lucien stood up from the armchair, smoothing down his jacket with a rare smirk dancing in his eyes. "Because you keep saying it yourself, sweetheart."

Deep down, he was right. None of the high-resolution ultrasounds or prenatal doctors had officially confirmed the gender yet, but somehow, an unshakeable instinct told us all the exact same thing. A little girl.

Domestic Disturbance

Breakfast downstairs was nothing short of absolute, beautiful chaos.

Vincent took it upon himself to act as head chef, resulting in him completely burning the artisan toast. Twice. Lucien sat at the head of the table, sipping his black coffee and offering a running commentary of complaints regarding his brother's lack of culinary skills. Zane, completely unbothered by the bickering, silently stepped in, intercepted the spatula, and flawlessly fixed the entire meal.

It was normal. So incredibly, beautifully normal. And I absolutely loved every single second of it.

Halfway through the meal, the heavy front doors groaned open, and Megan walked straight into the dining room without knocking. As usual. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a messy, chaotic bun, and her cheeks actually had color in them again. She looked alive. Healthy. Seeing her thrive like this was worth every single battle we fought.

"Well, well, well," Megan announced, stopping at the threshold and crossing her arms as she surveyed the scene. "Look how incredibly domestic we’ve become."

Vincent smirked, leaning back in his chair and gesturing to the spread. "What's the matter, Megs? Jealous?"

She gagged dramatically, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "In your absolute dreams, Voss. Never."

I laughed, pushing my chair back as she walked around the table to wrap her arms carefully around my neck, offering a warm, protective hug. She pulled back slightly, her hand hovering near my stomach. "How is my absolute favorite godchild doing today?"

Vincent’s brow instantly narrowed into a dark frown. "Hold on a second. Who exactly decided you were the godmother?"

Megan looked fiercely offended, popping her hands on her hips. "Excuse me? Who is going to stop me?"

"Me," Vincent shot back instantly.

Lucien didn't even look up from his tablet, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute command. "Enough, both of you."

The sharp interruption made both Vincent and Megan snap their mouths shut, causing the rest of us to burst into spontaneous laughter. But as the noise died down, I noticed a strange, nervous smile playing at the corners of Megan's mouth. She was biting her lip, her cheeks turning a distinct shade of bright pink. That was unusual for her. Incredibly unusual.

Vincent, ever the predator, caught the micro-expression instantly. "Oh? What's that face for?"

Megan shifted her weight, her eyes darting to me before she took a deep breath. "I actually have some news."

I raised a curious eyebrow, setting my fork down. "What kind of news makes you blush like a schoolgirl?"

She took another breath, her smile widening into something genuinely happy. "Rowan asked me out."

I froze for a fraction of a second, processing the words, and then I screamed. I actually, loudly screamed right at the kitchen table. "No way! Are you serious?!"

Megan laughed, her pink cheeks deepening in color. "Yes! Completely serious."

I lunged forward, grabbing both of her hands across the back of the chair. "When did this happen?!"

"Last night," she admitted, her eyes shining.

"And? What did you say?"

Her smile was absolutely radiant. "I said yes."

A profound wave of happiness washed over me, so thick it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Because after everything we had endured—after the paralyzing fear, the physical pain, the horrific betrayals, and the endless blood—something genuinely good was finally blooming. For all of us.

A New Frontier

Later that evening, as the sun began its slow descent below the city skyline, I found myself standing out on the stone terrace once again. The air was crisp, cooling down as the sky painted itself in brilliant strokes of amber, violet, and deep crimson.

Like clockwork, a heavy presence materialized behind me. Lucien came out first, his towering frame a solid shield against the world. Then came Vincent, sliding into the space right behind me. Finally, Zane appeared at my side.

There were no words spoken. There was no need for them. Just their absolute, unwavering presence surrounding me like an unbreakable fortress.

Vincent wrapped his strong arms around me from behind, burying his face into the crook of my neck. Lucien leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss directly against my temple. Zane rested his large, warm hand directly over mine, where it lay protectively against the growing curve of my stomach.

And for the very first time in my life... it didn’t feel overly complicated. It didn’t feel like a storm I had to survive. It just felt entirely, undeniably right.

Then, breaking the quiet tranquility, Vincent let out a low, wicked grin against my skin. "So."

I narrowed my eyes slightly, looking at him over my shoulder. "So what, Vincent?"

The smirk spreading across his handsome face was pure trouble. "When exactly are we telling the rest of the world?"

I blinked, momentarily lost. "The world what?"

Lucien’s dark, commanding eyes gleamed with a predatory, possessive light as he looked down at me, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"That you are entirely ours, Sarah."

My breath caught sharply in my throat, my heart skipping a violent beat. And just like that, the quiet peace of the afternoon shifted, morphing into something entirely different. Something infinitely warmer. Something dangerously thrilling.

Something that was about to change absolutely everything all over again.