Chapter 62 Preparing the Nursery
Morning brings clarity. And decision.
"We take the call." Kairo says. "But on our terms."
Zephyra looks at him. Surprised. "Why?"
"Because what if Gerald knows about the blackmailer?" He explains. "What if this is connected?"
The logic makes sense. Horrible sense.
"Speaker phone." Zephyra says. "I'm present but silent. We gather information."
"Agreed." Kairo nods. "Set boundaries but learn what we can."
They call the prison back. Arrange the call. Today. Noon.
When the time comes, they're in Kairo's office. Door locked. Recording device ready.
The phone rings. Kairo answers. Puts it on speaker.
"This is Kairo Lione." He says. Voice steady.
Static. Transfer sounds. Then a voice.
Older. Weaker. But unmistakably Gerald.
"Kairo." Gerald's voice rasps. "Thank you for calling back."
Zephyra's body goes rigid. That voice. Years of terror in that voice.
"You asked to speak about family matters." Kairo says. Professional. Cold.
"Yes."Gerard Pauses. I hear congratulations are in order. Twins
Zephyra's hand flies to her stomach. Protective. How does he know?
"Who told you that?" Kairo asks sharply.
"Word gets around." Gerald says vaguely. "Even in here."
A lie. Obviously. Someone told him. The blackmailer.
"What do you want, Gerald?" Kairo's voice hardens.
Silence. Then Gerald speaks. Carefully. Deliberately.
"I've changed." He says. "Prison does that. I've found religion. Peace. Understanding."
Zephyra nearly laughs. The manipulation so obvious.
"I want to make amends." Gerald continues. "Before I die."
"Die?" Kairo asks.
"Cancer." Gerald says. "Stage four. Months left. Maybe less."
Truth or lie?
"I know I don't deserve forgiveness." Gerald's voice trembles. Perfectly. "But I'm asking anyway."
Zephyra knows this. The performance. The fake vulnerability.
"Asking who?" Kairo says. "Me? Or your daughter?"
Silence. Gerald didn't expect that.
"Both." He says finally. "I know Zephyra is there. I can hear her breathing."
Zephyra's blood runs cold. How?
"I want to meet my grandchildren someday." Gerald continues. "Not to hurt them. Just to see them. To know they exist."
Something breaks inside Zephyra. Rage replacing fear.
She reaches for the phone. Takes it off speaker. Holds it to her ear.
"You'll never meet my children." Her voice is steel. "Never."
Gerald goes silent. Surprised.
"Zephyra—" He starts.
"You lost that right." She cuts him off. "When you chose to hurt me. To hurt Mom. To destroy everything you touched."
Her voice shakes but doesn't break.
"Die alone with your regrets." She says. "That's your consequence. That's your ending."
She hangs up.
Her hands shake. Her whole body trembles.
But she feels powerful. Strong.
Kairo wraps arms around her. Holds tight.
"I'm so proud of you." He whispers.
She collapses against him. Crying. Laughing. Released.
"He'll never touch them." She says. "Never. I promise."
"I know." Kairo holds her tighter. "We protect them. Always."
Later, calmer, they sit together. Processing.
"Part of me still wants a father who loves me." Zephyra admits quietly. "Even knowing Gerald never was that person."
"That's normal." Kairo says gently.
"But accepting it hurts." She continues. "And it's also freeing."
She looks at him. Eyes clear. Determined.
"Our children will never doubt they're loved." She says firmly. "We break that cycle. Here. Now. With them."
Kairo kisses her forehead. Soft.
"They already are loved." He says.” So perfectly."
The public statement releases the next day.
Zephyra's past with Gerald disclosed. Honestly. Powerfully.
The response is overwhelming. Supportive. Loving.
Media praises her courage. Survivors reach out with solidarity.
"Zephyra Lione-Draven Reveals Abusive Past: 'I Chose to Become Better'"
"Fashion Icon's Strength: Surviving Abuse, Building Empire"
The blackmailer's leverage evaporates. Gone. Powerless.
Control returned to Zephyra. Her story.
With the threat neutralized, focus shifts. To joy. To preparation.
The nursery needs designing. Two babies need space.
Dalia arrives with fabric samples. Paint swatches. Ideas.
"Soft colors." She suggests. "Calming.
Percy arranges contractors. Custom cribs. Built-in storage.
Elara organizes baby registry. Double everything. Carefully researched.
The room transforms over weeks. Beautiful. Perfect.
Soft gray walls. White furniture. Accents of sage green and dusty blue.
Two cribs. Side by side. Matching.
Rocking chair by the window. Bookshelf already filling with children's books.
Twenty weeks pregnant now. Zephyra's bump is visible. Undeniable.
She stands in the finished nursery. Grateful.
"They're going to be so loved." She says softly. Touching her stomach.
Kairo wraps arms around her from behind. Hands on her belly.
"They already are." He says.
They stand together. Imagining.
Two babies sleeping here. Safe. Warm. Protected.
Their son. Their daughter. Their family.
"What about names?" Kairo asks. "We still haven't decided."
"I know." Zephyra smiles. "Nothing feels right yet."
"We have time." He kisses her neck. "Twenty more weeks."
They turn off the light. Close the door. Leave the nursery waiting.
That night, Zephyra sleeps deeply. Peacefully.
The threats are handled.
But miles away, in a cold prison cell, Gerald makes a call.
His voice is different now. Stronger. Calculated. No weakness.
"It's time." He says. "Execute the plan."
A voice on the other end responds. Confirming. Ready.
"Make sure she suffers." Gerald continues. "Make sure she knows it's me."
He hangs up. Smiles. Cold. Calculating.
The dying man act worked perfectly. Made them complacent.
But Gerald isn't dying. He's planning. Strategizing. Attacking.
And his weapon is about to strike.
The next morning, Zephyra wakes feeling off. Cramping. Discomfort.
"I'm fine." She tells Kairo. "Just growing pains."
But the cramping worsens. Sharp. Persistent.
By noon, she's concerned. By afternoon, she's scared.
"We're going to the doctor." Kairo says. No argument.
At the office, examination reveals the truth.
"Your cervix is shortening." The doctor says. Concerned. "Sign of early labor risk."
"Early labor?" Zephyra's voice shakes. "But I'm only twenty weeks."
"I know." The doctor says. "Which is why we need immediate intervention."
She writes orders. Bed rest. Strict. No exceptions.
"If your cervix continues shortening, we may need a cerclage." She explains. "Surgical procedure. To prevent premature birth."
Zephyra can't breathe. Twenty weeks. Way too early.
"What caused this?" Kairo asks. "What changed?"
The doctor shakes her head. "Could be stress. Could be twin pregnancy strain."
But Zephyra knows better. Deep down.
Gerald's call. The manipulation. The stress. The anger.
He did this. Somehow.
Driving home, fear replaces peace.
"Bed rest." Kairo says firmly. "Complete. Starting now."
"But the program—" Zephyra starts.
"Delegates." He interrupts. "The program survives without you for a few months. Our babies need you more."
She wants to argue. But she's too scared.
Twenty weeks. Halfway.
If she loses them now. If something happens.
That night, lying in bed on doctor's orders, Zephyra touches her stomach.
Feeling for movement. Reassurance. Life.
There. Tiny flutters. Both babies. Still there.
"Please stay." She whispers. "Please. We need you."
Kairo holds her close. His own fear palpable.
"They're strong." He says. "Like their mother."
But as they lie in the dark
ness with Zephyra's shortened cervix threatening their babies' lives, one terrifying question keeps her awake—did Gerald somehow orchestrate this medical crisis as his final revenge, and if his plan succeeds, will she lose everything she's fought so hard to protect?