Chapter 162 Love Protects

Chapter 162 Love Protects
Cherry POV

I head straight to the bed the moment we return to the estate.

Nicholas lies beside me, the heat of him close but not touching, as if he's testing a boundary I haven't yet drawn. "We should talk, Cherry."

"About what?" I feign innocence.

"About us. About… the future." He pauses, the word 'baby' hanging unspoken between us. "What it could look like."

I shift, pulling the blanket higher, a flimsy barrier. "I'm tired, Nicholas. Can we talk about this tomorrow?" I pivot, steering us away from the abyss. "By the way, Justine came to me today. In the strawberry field. She wants to join the training camp."

His brow furrows. "Training camp? Why?"

"She didn't say much. Just that… after losing the baby, she needs something to focus on. To forget." I hesitate, my fingers tightening on the blanket. "I think it's more than that, though. And honestly, it's part of why I'm not ready for any of this. I can't stop thinking about what could happen to a child here. Someone could hurt us just to get to you."

Nicholas's jaw tightens, but his voice stays steady. "Vincent hinted something to me about Justine's loss. He thinks it wasn't an accident. I'm looking into it, and I have my suspicions about Anthony's crew. But as for you…" He reaches out, his hand hovering over mine before pulling back. "I'll keep you safe. You and baby."

I scoff, the sound bitter even to my own ears, rolling away to stare at the ceiling. "You've said that plenty of times, Nicholas. How often has it held true?"

Silence. It stretches, thick and heavy, until he finally murmurs, "Rest. We'll talk later."

And he didn't talk until the next dinner. Sitting across from me, Nicholas cuts into his steak, then glances up, his tone deceptively casual. "I was thinking we could renovate our room. Maybe some wall padding or something. Make it more... secure."

I see through the veneer instantly. He's not talking about aesthetics. He's planning for a nursery. "Speaking of security, how's Miller's mess going on? And our internal issues?"

A flicker of frustration crosses his face, but he plays along. "The Miller situation is still a tangle. And within the family, let's just say loyalties are being tested. But we'll handle it. Together."

"Good. Let's focus on that then. One fire at a time." My words are a wall, and though I see the disappointment in his eyes, he doesn't push.

After dinner, he mutters something about work in the study and leaves me to my solitude. I return to the bedroom, the reality of it all sinking in.

A child needs parents who can shield them, not ones who drag them into violence. I know Nicholas yearns for this—he sees it as his bloodline. And maybe I'm selfish for denying him. But right now, in this moment, I can't see past the fear. It's not the right time.

My resolve hardens like ice. I stand and head for the study. He needs to book the appointment.

As I approach the door, his voice filters through. "Cherry's pregnant. She doesn't leave the room without protection. Got it?"

Rage surges. I shove the door open. Darcy, standing near his desk, freezes, then quickly excuses herself with a nod, slipping past me like a shadow. Nicholas looks up, unfazed, as if he expected this.

"You're turning me into a prisoner!" My voice cracks. "I'm not some damn artifact to guard!"

His expression doesn't waver. "It's not about control. It's about safety. You know what's at stake. I'm not taking chances."

I glare at him, chest heaving, but there's no give in his stance. This isn't a debate. It's a decree.

I then demand he schedule the abortion appointment immediately, but Nicholas refuses, insisting I need rest first and that we'll discuss it after I've fully recovered.

The next few days are suffocating. Darcy hovers like a specter, her presence a constant reminder of Nicholas's overreach. She's at my door when I wake, shadowing me to the bathroom, waiting outside with that impassive stare. I can't breathe without feeling her eyes on me. Enough is enough. I need to make a point.

Under the guise of a walk, I lead Darcy to the estate's training field. Turning to her, I force a grin. "So, how's it going with Joshua? Any progress? You know, bedroom stuff? Plans for kids?"

Her cheeks flush, a rare break in her stoic mask. "I—uh, we're fine. Not there yet." She stumbles over the words, clearly unnerved.

I press on, mischievousness masking my intent. "Come on, don't be shy. I talked to Joshua. He's been dying to take things further. I told him you're game. He's on his way right now, actually. All excited."

Darcy's eyes widen in horror. "What? I never said that!"

Before she can protest further, Joshua appears, striding across the field with a grin. "Hey, Darcy, heard you're ready to—" he starts, but she cuts him off, voice shrill.

"I didn't agree to anything!" She shoots me a panicked look.

I shrug, feigning innocence. "Oh, she's just playing hard to get. Go on, take her somewhere private." I wink at Joshua, who doesn't hesitate, pulling a flustered Darcy away despite her protests. He throws me an appreciative nod over his shoulder.

Sure, it's a bit cruel, but they've been dancing around each other for ages—two stubborn souls too proud to make the first move. I've just given them a nudge. And, frankly, I'm free of my watchdog. The air feels lighter already.

I wander toward the training area, the distant clatter of gear drawing me in. Kyle and Sonya are there, working with a sleek, new weapon. Kyle's guiding her, his hand steadying hers as she adjusts to the weight, mindful of her prosthetic leg. Sonya's face is a mask of focus, but there's a softness when he corrects her grip.

"Hey, guys. Testing something new?" I ask, nodding at the gear.

Kyle glances up. "Yeah, upgraded tech. Sonya's getting the hang of it."

We chat, the conversation drifting to personal territory. Sonya's voice turns wry as she mentions her inability to have kids. "Worst case, we adopt. Plenty of kids need a home."

Kyle shakes his head, resolute. "Adoption's a last resort. I'm not giving up on finding a way."

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Your love for each other is something special."

Kyle's expression shifts, a wry grin breaking through. "Thanks, but I'm the one who's envious. Of the boss. For someone like him, to have a person willing to marry him and have a child with him—that's the greatest trust and gift."

I swallow, the words hitting harder than I expect. "And you're not scared? Bringing a child into… all this?"

Kyle meets my eyes, unflinching. "Love protects. Just like the boss protects you. It's not perfect, but it's enough."

His certainty lingers, a seed of doubt in my fortress of fear. I excuse myself, murmuring a need for air, and wander away from the field. Is my dread of this world—of what it could do to a child—too rigid?