Chapter 69 EPILOGUE.
STEVE POV
I brought Freya out for dinner. I paid to close the entire restaurant so no one else would be there, also paid for the decorations. There were white flowers on every table and candles placed along the floor.
With the help of Diana, she makes sureFreya put on a red dress for the evening and just like always, she looked very beautiful in it. I looked at her as we walked toward our table and thought that there is not one thing that does not look good on her. Every color and every style seemed to fit her perfectly.
“Ohhh my God” she said smiling as we walked in
“Steve”
I smile and pull a chair out for her to sit, our table is at the center of the room
I just find out recently that she love flowers, I wish I knew earlier, she kept look at flowers, touching the one nearby
"Steve? Why did you do all this?" she asked.
I only smile without an answer.
“Enjoy your food, princess”
We ate our dinner, but I was not focused on the food. I was thinking about the small box in my pocket and what to say to her. Diana makes me rehearse this moment more than five times, and tells me to be soft while talking without growling. When the plates were cleared, I stood up. I walked around the table and stood in front of her. I took her hands in mine. Her skin was warm.
Then I went on one knee..
"I spent a long time watching you, Freya," I said. I looked at her face. "I watched you when you were sad, and I watched you when you fought back. I watched you when you were broken. You are the person who makes my life feel real."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the box. I kept my eyes on her.
"I have been a protector in your life for a long time," I said. "But tonight, I do not want to be the man who handles the business. I am standing here as a man who wants to go home to you every night."
I dropped down on one knee. I saw her breath stop for a second. She put her hand over her mouth.
"I am asking you like a normal man, Freya," I said. "Will you be Mrs. Hayes?"
Freya did not say anything for a few seconds. She looked at me. Then one tear fell down her cheek. She did not wipe it away. She leaned down and put her hands on my face.
“You are actually acting like a normal man”
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Steve."
I took the ring out and put it on her finger.
EPILOGUE
FREYA POV
Three years had passed
I sat on the large sofa in our living room, resting my back against the soft cushions. The house was quiet now - may NaNa soul rest in peace.
I asked Steve to reduce guards at home, so we only have a few for security purposes only, not for bowing and taking orders
Luna was sitting on the rug, her legs crossed, holding the tablet in her lap. She was having her weekly video call with Mark.
I looked at the screen from a distance. Mark looked different now. His hair was cut short, and he looked healthy, but his face was older. He was living in a small apartment in a different city, working a regular job. Steve had kept his word; he had given Mark enough money to start over, but Mark was no longer the powerful man he used to be.
"And then I got an A on my science project, Dad!" Luna said, her face glowing with excitement.
"That is great, Luna," Mark’s voice came through the speaker. He sounded calm and soft. "I always knew you were smart. I am proud of you."
I watched them for a moment. It had taken a long time to get to this point. At first, the calls were short and awkward. But over time, Mark had learned how to be a father without trying to use Luna as a tool. He didn't ask about me, and he didn't ask about Steve. He just listened to his daughter.
"I have to go now, Dad," Luna said, waving at the camera. "Steve is taking me to my horse-riding lesson."
"Okay, Luna. Have fun. I love you," Mark said.
"Love you too," she replied before ending the call.
Luna stood up and walked over to me. She looked at my stomach, which was now very round and heavy. I was eight months pregnant. I reached out and rubbed my belly, feeling a small kick from inside.
"Is the baby sleeping?" Luna asked, placing her hand next to mine.
"I think the baby is waking up," I said, smiling at her.
Luna leaned down and kissed my stomach. "Hurry up and come out. I want to show you my toys."
The front door opened, and I heard the familiar sound of boots on the hardwood floor. Steve walked into the room. He had taken off his suit jacket and draped it over his arm. He looked at Luna and then at me. His eyes softened the moment they landed on my stomach.
"Is she ready for her lesson?" Steve asked, walking over to ruffle Luna’s hair.
"Yes!" Luna shouted, grabbing her small boots from near the door. She ran toward the hallway to get ready.
Steve sat down on the edge of the sofa next to me. He put his hand over mine on my stomach. We sat there in silence for a minute, just feeling the baby move.
"How was the call?" Steve asked quietly.
"It was good," I said. "Mark is doing okay. Luna seems happy."
Steve nodded. He didn't have any jealousy or anger toward Mark anymore. Mark was a ghost from the past, and we were living in the present.
"I have a gift for you," Steve said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.
I opened it and saw a simple gold necklace with two small charms. One had the letter 'L' for Luna, and the other was blank, waiting for the name of the baby.
I smiled, tears pricking my eyes. “It’s perfect.”
Steve leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You’re perfect.”
After Luna left with her instructor for the lesson, the house fell even quieter. Steve helped me up from the sofa, his hands gentle on my lower back. I waddled to our bedroom, already feeling that familiar heat building low in my belly—not just from the baby kicking, but from something else. Pregnancy had turned me into a furnace. Even at eight months, heavy and swollen, I wanted him constantly. Tonight, the ache was unbearable.
I slipped into the bathroom while Steve checked on the guards outside. When he came back upstairs, I was waiting.
I’d bathed quickly, oiled my skin until it gleamed, and squeezed into the only lingerie that still fit: a black lace set with extra stretch across my belly. The bra barely contained my fuller breasts, nipples already hard and dark against the sheer fabric. The panties rode high on my hips, framing the round swell of my stomach like a gift.
Steve froze in the doorway. His eyes darkened instantly, that possessive hunger I loved flaring to life.
“Freya…” His voice was rough.
I stepped toward him, hands on my belly. “The baby wants ice cream.”
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Ice cream, huh?”
I closed the distance, pressing my body against his. “Yeah. But first… I need you inside me. Right now.”
He growled low in his throat, hands sliding to my hips. “You’re playing dangerous games, princess. You’re so fucking full of my baby already.”
I tugged at his shirt. “Then fill me again.”
He didn’t waste time. He scooped me up carefully—always careful now—and carried me to the bed. He laid me on my side (the only position that felt right these days), spooning behind me. His hand roamed over my belly, possessive and tender, while the other slipped under the lace bra to cup my breast. He pinched my nipple gently, rolling it until I moaned.
“Look at you,” he murmured against my ear. “Still so wet for me. Even like this.”
His fingers dipped lower, pushing the panties aside. I was already soaked, slick and ready. He teased my clit in slow circles while grinding his hard cock against my ass.
“Steve… please,” I begged.
He freed himself, thick and hot against me. He lifted my top leg just enough, sliding in from behind in one slow, deep thrust. The angle was perfect—no pressure on my belly, just full, stretching fullness. I gasped, arching back into him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, starting a steady rhythm. His hand stayed on my stomach, feeling every movement, every kick. “This pussy was made for me. Even carrying my kid, you’re still mine.”
I rocked back to meet him, the friction building fast. His other hand found my clit again, rubbing in time with his thrusts. The pressure coiled tight—pregnancy had made everything more sensitive, every touch electric.
“Harder,” I whispered. “Don’t stop.”
He obeyed, hips snapping deeper. His mouth found my neck, biting just enough to mark. “Come for me, princess. Let me feel you squeeze around my cock.”
I shattered. My whole body clenched, pussy pulsing hard around him as waves crashed through me. I cried out his name, nails digging into his arm.
Steve followed right after, burying deep and groaning as he came, hot spurts filling me. He held me tight through it, hand still cradling my belly like he was protecting us both.
We stayed like that, breathing heavy, his cock still inside me, softening slowly.
Then I felt it.
A warm, sudden rush between my legs. Not the usual wetness from us—something different. A gush, then another trickle.
“Steve…” My voice cracked.
He pulled out gently, looking down. Clear fluid soaked the sheets beneath me.
“My water just broke.”
His eyes widened for half a second—then that calm, possessive control snapped back.
“Time to meet our baby.”
He kissed me hard, then helped me sit up. “Breathe, Freya. I’ve got you.”
I laughed through the sudden nerves, tears mixing with the smile. “You always do.”
He grabbed his phone to call the driver, then scooped me into his arms again—careful, strong, mine.
The monster who’d claimed me had given me everything: revenge, love, a family. And now, our next chapter was starting.
Did you love Steve’s possessive obsession? Then you need to meet Diesel. He doesn’t just protect; he kills for his 'doe' the very first night they meet. Drop a comment if you're ready for his story
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Thanks for reading