Lucian
Breakfast had gone exactly as Darian and I had hoped. Backing Martha into a corner had left her too defensive to stir up one of her infamous monologues. It was quiet, tense—but safe. And watching Darian serve her a taste of her own medicine? That was the unexpected cherry on top.
Now, Mara sat beside me in the car, staring quietly out the window as we drove home. Her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh, and I reached over, resting my hand gently there. I couldn’t look at her for long—I had to keep my eyes on the road—but I stole a glance.
She was breathtaking.
Strong, soft, mine.
I thought I’d lost her once. When Tina dropped the pregnancy bomb, Mara and I hadn’t even claimed each other yet. I’d felt my world collapse in slow motion. My heart had been in my mouth. But Mara
