The next morning, I decided I needed to get out of the house.
Not because I was upset, or anxious, or trying to prove anything. I just needed air. Space to breathe. Sothing normal, sothing familiar. And the bakery was that for . It was warm, sweet, soft, filled with cinnamon and butter and mories of who I had been before my whole world flipped itself inside out.
So after breakfast, one of the drivers took into the city. Jace had a lot of work on his hands so he couldn’t take . I didn’t mind but he looked guilty. I had to kiss the guilt away.
The bakery looked just the sa.
White awning. Gold lettering. The soft sll of sugar and toasted vanilla drifting out into the morning air. And the mont I stepped inside, the warmth hit —the ovens going, the gentle chatter of the staff, the low hum of jazz.
This was my space.
My world.
It was my heart. Or at least part of it because my husband and unborn child had a huge chunk of it.
"Mrs. Romano!"
Ana, one of the new pastry chefs, practically squealed when she saw . "You look so beautiful. Third trister glow is real."
I laughed, brushing a loose curl behind my ear. "This is not glow. This is pregnancy heat. There is a difference."
Everyone laughed.
For a few hours, everything felt... normal.
I helped with a recipe adjustnt. We tried new fillings for the strawberry brioche. Soone brought a chair every ti I stood for more than thirty seconds, which I tolerated because they did it out of love, not fear (or maybe a little bit of fear because my husband was intimidating). But pregnant or not, being here always made feel rooted.
I was taste-testing a new almond cream when the back door buzzer rang.
Delivery.
Nothing unusual. We received shipnts almost daily. Flour, fruit, boxes, seasonal decorations, specialty chocolates. But the delivery guy who walked in wasn’t one I recognized. He kept his head down, hood up, shoulders tense.
Ana handled the signature. I didn’t think anything of it.
Until she turned to with the box.
"Uh—Mrs Romano? This one has your na on it. Handwritten. And there’s no supplier listed."
Sothing cold slid down my spine.
The box was small. Light. Wrapped in pale white tissue paper tied with a single cream ribbon. Elegant. Too elegant.
My hands hovered but I didn’t touch it.
"Did he say where it was from?"
Ana shook her head. "No, he left quickly."
I took a slow breath, steadying myself. There was no reason to panic. It could’ve been a gift. A custor. A friend. A designer. Soone excited about the baby.
But my heart knew better.
I peeled the ribbon open and lifted the lid.
Inside was a pair of baby shoes—soft satin ballet slippers, pale pink, delicate and impossibly small. They looked like sothing ant for a newborn photoshoot. Sothing ant to be cherished.
Nestled beneath them was a single folded note.
My fingers hesitated but I opened it.
She will be beautiful.
There was no na, no initials, no flourish. Just that.
My throat tightened.
The room suddenly felt too bright, too loud. The kitchen staff continued working, completely unaware of how the world had shifted in the space of a breath.
I slowly placed the lid back onto the box.
"Tomas," I said, quietly.
Ana blinked. "Should I call him?"
"Yes," I whispered, though my voice barely felt like mine. "Right now."
He arrived in under fifteen minutes.
He always did.
He didn’t touch the box. He didn’t make a scene. He didn’t question . He simply looked at it once, then looked at .
And sothing in his expression sharpened.
"Does he know?" Tomas asked.
He didn’t have to clarify who he was.
I shook my head. "No. And I don’t want him to. Not right now."
Tomas didn’t argue. But I saw the conflict flicker in his eyes. His loyalty was to Jace first, always. Keeping sothing from him—even at my request—was a line.
But he crossed it anyway.
"He’ll have to know eventually."
"I know," I said quietly. "But just... not yet. Please."
He looked at for a long mont before nodding once.
"We’ll sweep the area. Quietly. No alarms. No panic." He assured .
"Thank you." I said with a sigh.
Tomas leaned closer, his voice dropping low.
"This wasn’t random, Mira. Soone wanted you to feel this."
My fingers curled against my belly.
I knew.
I didn’t need him to say it.
But hearing it out loud made my heart throb painfully.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I stayed in the office upstairs, trying to distract myself with paperwork and nu planning. But my eyes kept drifting to the window, scanning the street outside.
Every car that slowed.
Every person that paused.
Every shadow that moved.
Nothing felt the sa.
And still—there was no proof. No na. No face. Just... fear.
By late afternoon, I heard footsteps on the stairs that felt heavy and familiar.
My heart jumped as soon as the door opened.
Jace stood there.
He didn’t look angry.
He looked silent.
His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders were tense, his jaw set, his eyes—those grey eyes—were sharp in a way that made my breath catch.
Tomas had told him.
Of course he had.
I stood, smoothing my dress automatically. "Hey."
He didn’t speak at first.
He just walked to slowly. I felt him asuring his breaths like they were grenades.
Then he pulled into his arms.
Not rough.
Not desperate.
Just... tight.
So tight I could feel his pulse hamring against mine.
"You should have told ," he murmured, his voice low against my hair.
"I didn’t want to worry you."
His hand slid to the back of my head, holding steady. "I worry because I love you. It’s not sothing you protect from."
My eyes burned.
"I’m okay," I whispered.
"I know." His voice was steady. Too steady. "But I need you to be completely safe."
We didn’t talk about the box.
We didn’t need to.
He took my hand and led out. The staff waved goodbye. I smiled and pretended everything was fine.
But when we stepped outside, I felt it again—that faint, invisible pressure against my skin.
Like eyes were watching and waiting.
The city moved around us as if nothing had changed. Cars passed. People laughed. The sun dipped low.
But the world had shifted.
And I knew it.
In my bones.
In my blood.
In the child kicking gently beneath my ribs.
We were being watched.
And I didn’t know who yet.
But whoever they were they knew exactly where to find now.
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