Scarlett – POV
She woke up alone.
The sheets were still warm, his scent lingering — expensive cologne, musk, and something darker.
But Dominic was gone.
For once, she hadn’t woken up with resentment, fear, or panic.
She woke up… wanting him.
And that scared her more than anything.
She got up slowly, clutching the sheet around her. Her body ached in all the best ways — soreness blooming between her thighs, her skin tingling where his lips had left heat trails.
She padded barefoot into the hallway.
Then paused.
The smell of eggs. Bacon. Coffee.
What the hell?
She followed the scent to the kitchen.
And there he was.
Dominic Blackthorn — shirtless, barefoot, flipping pancakes.
Pancakes.
---
Dominic – POV
He felt her watching him before he saw her.
He turned, spatula in one hand, coffee in the other, wearing nothing but pajama pants that hung low on his hips.
Her hair was a mess. Her eyes still sleepy. Her lips swollen from their night together.
She was beautiful.
More than beautiful.
And something inside him shifted the second he saw her like this.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said finally.
“I can. I just don’t.”
She raised a brow. “And now you’re… making me breakfast?”
He turned back to the stove. “You’re pregnant. You need to eat.”
She didn’t reply.
So he plated the food in silence.
When he finally placed the plate in front of her at the kitchen island, she sat — still wrapped in his white shirt — and whispered, “Thank you.”
He almost didn’t hear her.
But he did.
And for once, he didn’t say anything cruel. He didn’t make a joke. He just sat beside her and ate.
In silence.
Together.
---
Scarlett – POV
She didn’t know what this was.
Breakfast?
A truce?
A flicker of something human in the ruthless man she’d married?
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His jaw flexed as he chewed. He sipped his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him from unraveling.
He looked… tired.
Not in a weak way.
But in a way that made her wonder how long he’d been carrying things alone.
She cleared her throat. “I’m not staying.”
His hand froze mid-air.
“I’m going to find a new apartment. A safer one. For me. For the baby.”
He didn’t look at her.
“I never agreed to stay in this golden cage forever.”
He finally spoke. “You’re not leaving.”
“Don’t do this.”
“You’re pregnant with my child.”
She stood up.
“And that’s all I’ll ever be to you, isn’t it? A responsibility.”
He looked at her now.
“No,” he said softly. “You’re more.”
---
Dominic – POV
The words were out before he could stop them.
She blinked, stunned. Like she didn’t know how to process softness from him.
And honestly? Neither did he.
“I never asked to feel this,” he continued.
Scarlett’s breath hitched.
“But I do.”
“You don’t even know what you feel,” she said.
“I know I don’t want you to leave.”
“That’s not love, Dominic.”
He stood.
“It’s the closest I’ve ever come.”
She stepped back, as if afraid of what that meant.
And maybe she should be.
Because he didn’t know how to be gentle with his emotions. He only knew how to take. Control. Destroy.
But her?
She made him want to try.
---
Scarlett – POV
She was shaking.
Because for the first time, Dominic wasn’t trying to break her.
He was trying to reach her.
And that hurt more than anything he’d done before.
She turned to walk away, needing space, needing to breathe—
But he followed.
“Scarlett—”
She stopped at the hallway wall, hands braced against the cool paint, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“I’m scared,” she said, not turning.
He stepped behind her, slow, cautious.
“I am too.”
She turned her head just slightly.
His chest brushed her back. His arms slowly, hesitantly, circled around her waist — one hand over her belly.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
“You never say what you mean,” she whispered.
“I mean this.”
And then he kissed the back of her neck.
---
Dominic – POV
She didn’t pull away.
So he deepened it.
His mouth found the curve of her shoulder. Then her collarbone. His fingers trailed along the front of her thigh, the fabric of his shirt riding higher.
“Let me take care of you,” he said.
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep.”
“I’m not promising. I’m asking.”
She turned to face him now, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.
And then she kissed him.
Softly. Desperately.
---
Scarlett – POV
There was no rush this time.
No anger. No jealousy.
Just slow-burning heat and something more dangerous—hope.
She let him lift her. Let him carry her back to the bedroom. Let him worship every inch of her like she was something sacred.
The way his hands moved over her curves…
The way he kissed the small swell of her belly before trailing lower…
The way he looked into her eyes as he entered her—
Scarlett couldn’t breathe.
She was drowning in him.
And this time, she didn’t want to be saved.