"Will you stop crying? You're going to make me ugly-cry too, and trust me, you do not want to see that," Revelation muttered, snatching the tenth soggy tissue from Genesis's trembling fingers (literally the tenth) and tossing it into the plastic bag already bulging with the evidence.
She cupped Genesis's flushed, tear-streaked cheeks between her palms, thumbs swiping uselessly at the fresh tears.
"Look at what you've done. You're a bloated tomato now."
Genesis let out a watery laugh that instantly dissolved back into sobs.
The driver glanced at them in the rear-view mirror and quickly hid his grin.
"I can't stop, Rev. I just… I can't believe it," Genesis whispered, eyes dropping to the pregnancy test in her lap. The word PREGNANT stared back in bold, impossible letters.
"You have to believe it," Revelation said softly, squeezing her hand. "It's real."
Genesis pressed her palm to her still-flat stomach, half-expecting to feel warmth blooming beneath her fingers.
"Liam," she breathed, "take me home. Not the office. I need to tell him."
"Yes, ma'am," the driver replied with a nod.
Revelation snorted. "You already told him that. Twice."
Genesis blinked, then managed a faint smile and turned to the window. Houses, shops, and faces blurred past in a watercolor haze of fresh tears. Joy, and hope tangled in her chest until she could barely breathe. She didn't notice Revelation suddenly go very still, her fingers tightening around hers like a warning.
Ten minutes earlier—flashback
"You are pregnant," the doctor repeated, slower, softer.
Revelation's face lit up for half a heartbeat, then froze. She swallowed hard.
"So the pain… that's just normal pregnancy stuff, right?"
The doctor shook his head, gentle but firm.
"No. That wasn't normal cramping. We ran blood work and did an ultrasound the moment you came in."
Genesis's voice cracked. "Is the baby…"
Revelation's hand shot out and gripped hers before the question could finish.
The doctor wheeled the portable ultrasound closer.
"Let's see for ourselves first, okay? Just one second."
Genesis nodded numbly and lifted her gown. Cool gel, warm probe, small circles.
Then…
thump-thump-thump-thump
A rapid, bright, impossible heartbeat filled the room, louder than the panic.
The sound made Genesis' heart skip a beat: a rapid, galloping flutter that filled the dim room.
"There we go," the doctor said, smiling at the monitor. "Strong heartbeat, 162 beats per minute."
On the grainy screen, their tiny bean curled like a comma, a pulsing speck of life. Next to the gestational sac sat a dark crescent, ominous and unfamiliar.
"That black area right there," the doctor said, tapping the screen, "is the subchorionic hematoma. It measures about 4.5 centimeters. That's why you've been in so much pain. It's larger than we'd prefer, but I've definitely seen worse."
Revelation let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "So… the baby's really okay right now?"
"Right now? Yes. Heartbeat is gorgeous, and look.." he zoomed in, "baby's already wiggling. Tiny rebel."
Genesis wiped fresh tears with the heel of her hand, half-laughing, half-sobbing.
"What do I actually have to do?" she asked, voice cracking.
The doctor's tone softened. "For the next seven to ten days: modified bed rest. Couch or bed only. Bedroom-to-bathroom-to-kitchen short walks permitted, think of it as luxurious house arrest. No work, no lifting anything heavier than a phone, no sex, no stairs if you can avoid them. We'll rescan in a week. If the hematoma is stable or smaller, we'll loosen the reins a little."
He handed Revelation a prescription sheet. "Anti-nausea meds, prenatal vitamins, extra iron because you've lost blood, and a stool softener, straining is not your friend right now. Small, high-protein meals every two to three hours: scrambled eggs, peanut butter on crackers, smoothies packed with spinach and Greek yogurt. Drink like you're trying to refill the ocean, water, electrolyte drinks, whatever stays down."
Revelation was already typing furiously into her notes app, thumbs flying.
"I'm also referring you to the high-risk antenatal clinic," he continued. "Weekly scans until this thing shrinks or resolves and the vast majority do when we're this careful this early."
Genesis couldn't take her eyes off the frozen image of her baby still glowing on the screen. Tears slipped down her temples into her hair.
Revelation summed it up without looking up from her phone. "So: one week on the couch, inhale protein, drown in water, and do not freak out."
"Pretty much," the doctor said, wiping the cool gel from Genesis' belly with a warm towel. "Most of these hematomas resolve by 16 to 20 weeks if we don't poke the bear. You did everything right coming in today. I'll see you in seven days, sooner if pain worsens or bleeding picks up. Questions?"
Revelation raised her hand like an eager student, and the doctor's mouth curved into a fond smile. He'd known she'd be the one.
"Can I force-feed her spinach?" she asked.
He laughed, the sound warm in the quiet room. "Encourage, threaten lightly, bribe, whatever works. But no force."
Genesis sniffled, managing a watery grin. "I don't eat chicken or beef or anything that ever had blood, but I swear I'll eat a whole cow if that's what this baby needs right now."
The doctor shook his head, still smiling. "No need to convert overnight. We've got plenty of plant-powered options." He rattled them off gently: "Eggs, as many as you can stomach, Greek yogurt, cottage cheese, string cheese, chickpeas, black beans (blend 'em into soup if that's easier), peanut or almond butter by the spoonful, tofu, tempeh, edamame, quinoa, chia, hemp seeds, kale, broccoli. Toss it all in a blender with banana and yogurt if you have to. Fortified cereals, oatmeal… and I'm starting you on a gentle iron supplement plus extra vitamin C to help it absorb. We'll recheck your levels next week."
He met Genesis' teary eyes and spoke softer still. "You're doing great. Both of you. This little one is already a fighter and so are you."
Genesis reached out blindly; Revelation caught her hand and squeezed so hard their knuckles went white. On the screen, the tiny heartbeat kept fluttering like a hummingbird trapped in the safest place in the world.
The second the car rolled to a stop under the estate's portico, Genesis was already shoving the door open, her feet hitting the gravel before Liam even killed the engine.
"Genesis, no running!" Revelation barked, scrambling after her. She slammed her own door hard enough to rattle the tinted windows. "That girl is going to be the death of me," she muttered, sprinting to catch up.
Genesis burst through the towering double doors like the house itself had been waiting to exhale. The cool marble hit her soles but she didn't slow. She flew past the living room where Daisy sat cross-legged on the rug, mid-movie, bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap.
"Lily!" Daisy squealed, twisting around.
Genesis skidded, nearly tripping over her own momentum. Daisy launched herself at her, arms flinging around Genesis's waist. Genesis laughed breathlessly and ruffled the girl's curls. "Hey, baby. Where's Uncle Kier?"
Daisy pointed vaguely toward the far hallway where Donald was getting his treatment .The thought flashed through Genesis like warm honey: Donald was going to be a grandfather. She couldn't wait to see his face when she told him.
"He was with Grandpa Donald but now I think he went upstairs… " Daisy started.
"Princess."
The single word cut through the air.
Genesis's head snapped up. Kieran stood at the top of the grand staircase, one hand on the banister, dark brows drawn together in confusion and the beginnings of alarm. The second he saw her tear-stained cheeks, he moved,taking the stairs two, three at a time, a predator in a three-piece suit.
He reached her in seconds, one large hand sliding around her waist, the other cupping her wet cheek. "Why are you crying?" His voice dropped, lethal and low. "Who do I kill?"
Revelation slipped in behind them, closing the front door with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than a gunshot.
Genesis couldn't speak. She just pressed the ultrasound strip and the positive test against his chest, fingers shaking too hard to hold on.
Kieran took them like they were made of glass.
Six tiny frames.
A bean-shaped miracle.
A fluttering heartbeat.
The word PREGNANT in bold, unmistakable letters.
The world narrowed to a single point.
He dropped, actually dropped to his knees on the cold marble, uncaring of the thousand-dollar suit, and pressed his forehead to her stomach as if praying to a god only he could see.
"You're carrying my baby," he whispered, voice shattered open.
Fresh tears spilled from Genesis's eyes and rained onto his dark hair. "We're having a baby, Kieran."
A broken sound tore out of him—half laugh, half sob—and then he was on his feet again, crushing her to him, one hand cradling her skull, the other splayed wide and possessive over her belly. "Fuck. Genesis." He kissed her temple, her cheeks, the corner of her trembling mouth. "My perfect girl. You're giving me everything."
Revelation cleared her throat delicately. "There's… a little more, Sir."
Kieran's head turned. The softness vanished; the devil looked out of his eyes. "Speak."
Revelation handed over the doctor's summary. Kieran scanned it in one predatory sweep.
Subchorionic hematoma. 4.5 cm. Bleeding. Pain. High-risk.
The air turned arctic.
His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking violently. When he spoke, it was so quiet the room held its breath.
"If it's hurting her," he said, each syllable carved in frost, "we get rid of it."
Genesis inhaled sharply. "Kieran…"
"No." He cupped her face, thumbs wiping tears that wouldn't stop, eyes blazing with something feral and terrified. "Nothing touches you. Not pain. Not risk. Not this thing bleeding inside you. If it ever comes down to a choice, you or anything else, I choose you. Every single time. Without hesitation."
Revelation tried again, softer. "The doctor said she will be fine if…"
"If," Kieran echoed, voice dripping acid. "There is no 'if' when it comes to my wife."
Genesis grabbed his wrists, forcing his wild gaze back to hers. "That 'thing' is our baby, Kieran. It has a heartbeat, one hundred and sixty-two beats per minute. It's wiggling. It's fighting already."
His nostrils flared. The war inside him was brutal and visible: the man who would burn cities for her versus the man who would die for the life she carried.
"I won't survive losing you," he rasped. "You are my entire world."
"And you're mine," she whispered. "But we're being careful. Bed rest. Scans. I'm glued to the couch for a week, remember? You get to spoil me rotten, Daddy."
The word, soft, purposely, hit him like a bullet. The killing rage in his eyes flickered, dimmed.
He exhaled, ragged. "You play dirty, princess."
"Only when your life depends on it." She smiled through the tears. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither is our baby."
Kieran dropped his forehead to hers, then sank to his knees again. This time he pressed the gentlest kiss to her stomach, slow, reverent, a vow written in the language of monsters who'd finally found something more fragile than their own hearts.
When he rose, the beast was leashed. Barely.
"No stairs. No standing. No lifting. No stress. No arguments." His stare pinned Revelation. "She just became ten times more precious than she already was. Act accordingly."
Revelation gave a mock salute, eyes suspiciously bright. "Yes, sir."
Kieran swept Genesis into his arms bridal-style, cradling her like spun glass. "I'm carrying you everywhere from now on. Doctor's orders were optional. Mine aren't."
Genesis looped her arms around his neck, exhausted and radiant. "You just want an excuse to grope me in front of everyone."
"Damn right." He brushed his nose against hers. "My babies," he corrected, voice rough with wonder. "Both of you. Mine to protect."
As he carried her toward the oversized sectional that was now officially promoted to throne/medical command center, he lowered his mouth to her ear.
"If that hematoma so much as twitches," he murmured, deadly soft, "I will tear the world apart to keep you safe. The baby stays only as long as it behaves. Clear?"
Genesis kissed him, slow, deep, tasting salt and whiskey and absolute devotion.
"Crystal, Daddy," she whispered against his lips. "But our baby's a fighter. Just like its father. And its grandfather."
Kieran closed his eyes, arms tightening around the only light he'd ever allowed in his darkness, and for the first time in his blood-soaked life, the most dangerous man alive looked terrified of losing the two hearts beating inside the woman he loved more than his own soul.