Chapter 170 Chapter 170

Chapter 170 Chapter 170
"I am not going alone. I have forty men on those rocks," he growled low, stepping close and cupping the back of my neck with his heavy, calloused hand. He pulled my face up until our lips were inches apart, his breath hot against my skin. "Listen to me, love . Nothing touches you. Nothing touches our child. You go into the iron room and you wait for me."
"Nikolai…"

"Swear it to me!" he rasped, an unhinged, possessive rage flashing in his pitch-black eyes. "Swear you will sit in the iron room until I come back for you!"
"I swear," I whispered, holding his ferocious gaze. "Come back to me."
"Always," he growled, slamming his mouth against mine in a brief, punishing, fiercely possessive kiss that claimed every drop of air in my lungs.

He pulled back, turned to Wesley , and jerked his head toward the heavy rear exit. "Go. Now." Without another word, he drew a heavy black sidearm from his waist holster, racked the slide with a brutal clack, and strode out toward the cliffside access corridor like a shadow of death. The safe room was an iron vault built forty feet beneath the granite foundation of the estate.

It was outfitted with independent air scrubbers, secure communications, medical supplies, and six inches of reinforced steel plating. Wesley stood inside the heavy door, his weapon drawn, his eyes glued to the internal security feed. Jules stood beside me, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his breathing quiet and controlled  Ares bounded into the room seconds before the door closed..

I sat on a leather bench, one hand clasped tightly over the high, firm curve of my belly and my other hand on Ares. Ares could sense the danger, because his entire body was stiff, he was waiting for the threat. Inside me, the baby was kicking furiously, reacting to the sudden surge of adrenaline in my blood. I smoothed my palms over the cashmere, breathing deeply, forcing my pulse to slow down, focusing every ounce of my formidable willpower on remaining calm for our child.

"Easy, Isla," Wesley said softly, stepping closer. "The Boss built this house to withstand a military siege. Three rogue boats aren't making it past the tide."
On the small tactical monitor mounted to the wall, we watched the thermal signatures move across the gray screen. The dark watercraft hit the rocky cove below the eastern cliffs. Red signatures, our tactical teams were already positioned along the high ridge, weapons raised. Then, a massive black figure stepped out onto the open stone ledge overlooking the sea. Nikolai.

Even on a low-resolution thermal feed, his presence was unmistakable. He stood tall, wide, and entirely unshakeable against the violent ocean spray, his heavy jacket whipping in the wind. He raised his hand, issuing a single command. A second later, bright white flashes illuminated the screen as our heavy perimeter emplacements opened fire. The dark watercraft didn't even reach the shore. The heavy suppressive fire shredded their hulls, sending them veering wildly into the sharp granite rocks where the crashing Atlantic waves finished the job.

It was over in less than ninety seconds. Total, brutal, merciless annihilation. "Target craft neutralized," Alessio’s voice crackled through Jules’s radio speaker, cold and calm. "Coast Guard automated distress signals triggered for civilian cover. It wasn't a syndicate strike, Nikolai. Looks like high-risk smugglers trying to ditch contraband in the cove during the storm." Silence filled the radio channel for two long seconds.

Then, Nikolai’s gravelly voice came through the speaker, tight, lethal, and devoid of relief. "Clear the rocks. Double the watch. I'm going back to my wife."
Ten minutes later, the heavy iron door of the safe room unlatched with a deep, mechanical hiss. The door swung open, and Nikolai stepped into the frame. Ares relaxed instantly. His coat was soaked through with seawater and rain, his hair plastered to his forehead, droplets of water clinging to his dark stubble and the sharp angles of his jaw. He smelled of sea salt, cold gunpowder, and raw, unrestrained power.

The moment his eyes locked onto me sitting on the leather bench,  with Ares standing beside me, the lethal executioner melted away. He dropped his weapon into Jules’s waiting hand without looking and crossed the small room in three massive strides. He dropped to his knees right in front of me, wrapping his wet, arms around my waist, burying his face directly into the warm cashmere over my bump.

He was shaking slightly, a subtle, violent tremor of pure relief passing through his massive frame. "Nikolai," I whispered softly, my heart aching with deep emotion as I wrapped my arms around his broad, wet shoulders, burying my fingers in his damp hair. "You're safe," he growled low against my stomach, his voice a rough, broken rasp. "You're safe. They didn't touch you. They didn't get near you."

"We are safe," I assured him gently, pulling his face up so he had to look at me. "The baby and I are completely fine. You protected us." He raised his hands, cupping both sides of my face, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from my cheek. His eyes burned with an absolute, terrifying devotion that made my whole body hum.
"Nothing touches this room," he vowed softly, his deep voice carrying the absolute weight of a sovereign decree. "Nothing touches this blood."

He leaned up, pressing his mouth against mine in a slow, deep, possessive kiss that tasted of salt and victory. I opened to him completely, wrapping my hands around his neck, letting him draw every drop of warmth and peace he needed from my lips. When he finally pulled back, he lowered his head, pressing a long, reverent kiss directly over the center of my bump. Our child gave a firm, solid kick against his lips, as if acknowledging the King who stood guard outside the iron door.

He let out a low, rough sound that sounded remarkably like a laugh, his heavy hands holding my waist tight against his heart as the storm raged harmlessly outside our invincible fortress. He patted Ares’s head. “ Good She is your priority.” he said to Ares and Ares just totted off.  The quiet before a storm was never truly silent inside the estate. It was a low, humming frequency, the steady pulse of  generators, the rhythmic sweep of rain against reinforced glass, and the heavy, constant presence of my husband.

At two o'clock on a sharp, frozen December morning, my body made its final, undeniable move. I woke from a shallow sleep in our master suite, a sudden, sharp tightness gripping my lower abdomen like a band of heated iron. It wasn't the soft, sporadic flutter of the past weeks. It was a deep, powerful contraction that locked my breath in my chest and made my fingers dig instinctively into the silk sheet beneath me. Beside me, Nikolai didn't just wake up, he was instantly, lethally awake.