Chapter 161 Chapter 161

Chapter 161 Chapter 161
"Not theirs," he growled low, his palm flattening over my lower stomach, his tone laced with a sudden, irrational, possessive jealousy that took my breath away. "Not a baby's. Mine." The realization hit me like a physical blow. He wasn't afraid of the responsibility, he wasn't afraid of the empire or the danger. He was jealous.

For two years, Nikolai Ferro had lived for one single, absolute truth: I was his entire world. I was his only anchor that kept his dark, violent soul tethered to humanity. He had claimed me, protected me, and built an impenetrable wall around us where no one else was allowed to exist. The thought of a child, a third presence that would demand my love, my time, my body, and my absolute devotion was triggering an irrational, terrifying fear inside him.

He was terrified that he was going to lose pieces of me to our own baby. "Nikolai..." I breathed softly, my heart aching with a deep, profound understanding of the dark, broken titan holding me.
"You think I'm crazy," he said, his eyes flashing with a raw, vulnerable fury that he couldn't hide from me. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, his teeth lightly grazing my pulse point in a possessive, marking bite. "I don't care. I'm not sharing you, I won't let anything take your eyes off me." he said.

"Listen to me," I said softly, but with absolute iron authority, forcing his head up so he had to look at me. "Look at me, Nikolai." He met my eyes, his chest heaving, his shoulders locked tight.
"No one is taking me from you," I said, holding his dark, stormy gaze with unshakeable conviction. "Not an enemy, not an army, and not our child. This baby isn't someone who comes between us. This baby is us. It is your blood and my blood. It is the continuation of what we built."

He stared at me, his breathing slowly ragged, his jaw still tight. "You are my husband," I whispered, sliding my hand around the back of his neck, pulling his head down until our lips were inches apart. "You are my Don. You are the only man who has ever owned my heart, and that will never change. Not for a single second."
"You swear it?" he asked, his possessive, irrational fear bleeding through his brutal strength. "You swear you are mine first? Above everything?"
"Above everything," I promised clearly. "Always."

He let out a low, shuddering breath, his forehead dropping heavily against mine. His hands tightened around my back, pulling me so tightly into his broad frame that I could feel every line of his rigid muscle. He didn't relax completely, his territorial instincts were far too sharp, far too possessive to dissolve in a single afternoon. But the wild, dark mania in his eyes settled into a fierce, suffocating protective shield.

"No one touches you," he said softly against my lips, his hand resting heavily over my stomach, his thumb stroking over the silk. "No doctors without my permission. No travel. No stress. If you need something, I get it. If you move, I am beside you."
"A complete lockdown?" I asked with a faint, fond smirk, my fingers threading through his damp dark hair.
"A complete lockdown," he agreed flatly, his mouth covering mine in a deep, dark, intensely possessive kiss that claimed every drop of air in my lungs.

Outside, the late afternoon sun dipped behind the dark cliffs of Riverside, casting long, golden shadows across our quiet sanctuary. The world outside our walls was still moving, shipping lanes were still operating, and corporate empires were still trading. But inside the quiet walls of our study, held fast in the unyielding iron grip of my husband, the first seed of our future had been planted, and the King was already building a fortress around his Queen.

By eight o'clock the following morning, the estate had been transformed into an impenetrable vault. Nikolai had spent the pre-dawn hours issuing directives from his office. By the time the sun fully broke over the Atlantic, the security detail had been doubled. Three independent tactical teams under Alessio’s direct command were stationed along the cliffside approach. The long corporate schedule I usually managed from my desk had been quietly re-routed through Wesley and Jules in the city.

I wast standing by the arched window of our private suite, holding a warm porcelain cup of chamomile tea, watching the rain strike the reinforced glass in long, sweeping diagonals. Behind me, the door to the master bath opened. Nikolai stepped out, dark wool trousers sitting low on his hips, a black towel slung across his massive shoulders. Drops of water clung to the dark, intricate ink tracing the heavy muscle of his chest and back. He didn't speak. He didn't look at the rain, or the ocean, or the monitors resting on the side table. His eyes moved directly to me.

He walked across the hardwood floor with silent, heavy strides, taking the porcelain cup from my hand and setting it on the windowsill without a word. Before I could ask what he was doing, his hands came around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off my feet and carrying me over to the massive four-poster bed.
"Nikolai, I was standing," I said softly as he laid me down against the heavy silk pillows.

"You've been on your feet for twenty minutes," he said, his voice tight and unyielding. He leaned over me, his massive frame blocking out the room, trapping me completely beneath his shadow. "The doctor said rest. You rest."
"Evelyn said normal activity was fine," I reminded him gently, reaching up to touch the heavy line of his jaw. "She said walking was good for circulation."

His jaw set hard, his eyes flashing with a cold, unhinged intensity that had only sharpened since yesterday. He climbed onto the mattress beside me, pulling the heavy velvet quilt over my legs before sliding his arm under my shoulders and dragging me sideways until my head was resting directly over his pulse point. He wrapped his other arm around my waist, his hand coming down flat over my stomach. His grip was heavy, suffocating, and absolute, a physical clamp that locked me against his side.

"You aren't walking around the estate today," he said flatly. "I told Maria to bring your meals up here." I let out a soft sigh, resting my hand over his wrist. I could feel the tension humming through his entire body, every muscle in his shoulders and back was stretched taut like steel cables. He wasn't angry with me. He wasn't cold. If anything, he was consumed by me. But the nature of his presence had shifted into something terrifyingly territorial. He hadn't left our room except to give orders to Alessio. He hadn't touched his own work files. Every time I shifted, every time my breathing changed, his grip tightened, his eyes searching my face with a dark, obsessive hunger.

"Nikolai," I whispered, turning my head to press my lips against the bare skin of his throat. "Look at me."