CHAPTER 7: UNEXPECTED

CATALINA

I paced Liza's dorm room like a damn tiger in a cage, chewing my bottom lip until it was almost bleeding. She sat cross-legged on the bed, just showered, hair still wet, and eyes fixed on me like she already knew I had something to say to her. And knowing Liza, she probably did. Her intuition was freakishly accurate where I was concerned.

"You're walking a trench into my floor, Cat," she said, half-humoured, half-alarmed. "Spit it out."

I stopped mid-step. "Okay. But you have to promise not to freak out."

She raised her eyebrows. "Why does that sound like you're about to deliver a nuclear bomb?"

I exhaled a breath. "Because it's kind of… big. And also kind of illegal if you ask Steel."

Her brows went shooting up. "You're not— Oh my God, Catalina, you're going out with one of the guys?"

I flinched. "Not one of the guys."

Liza's mouth fell open. "Who?"

"Knox."

Stunned silence.

She blinked. "Steel's second-in-command, Knox? The tattooed, growly, six-foot-four Knox?"

"The one and only."

"Oh my God," she breathed, and then she burst out laughing at her disbelief. "You've been keeping Knox on the down-low? How long?!?"

"Three months."

"THREE—Catalina!"

"I know, I know! But hear me out; it isn't like that! It just started as this informal thing. I didn't even intend for it to happen. He picked me up after your art exhibition—you remember when my heel broke and I nearly face-planted down the stairs?"

Liza nodded slowly. "Yeah…"

"He caught me. Literally. Like some leather-clad knight. And then teased me the whole way to my dorm, but he walked me the whole way. And then. It just kept going. A ride here, a cup of coffee there. Then late-night phone calls. Then kisses. And now…" I leaned down beside her. "Now I'm in too deep."

Liza glared at me and then smiled into the biggest grin. "You're in love with him."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not—okay, maybe a little." I covered my face with my hands and groaned. "But you know Steel. He'll flip."

Liza playfully nudged me. "Then we'll take care of him together. But Cat… I'm so glad for you. If Knox makes you feel safe, seen, and loved—you deserve it. You always have."

My heart expanded. "He does. Even when he's a bossy caveman. Especially then, actually."

She laughed and hugged me. "Then it's real."

Yeah. It was. And I didn't want to hide anymore.

LIZA

The two pink lines stared back at me like a slap across the face. I sat on the floor of our dorm bathroom, fingers trembling around the test, praying that I'd misread it. But no—four tests in, and all four said the same thing:

Pregnant.

Steel's baby.

I didn't cry. I didn't freak out. Not yet. I just sat there, stunned, one hand already automatically reaching to cover my belly as if my body already knew who was inside me.

I waited until the following day. Steel was buzzing with excitement—he'd just been picked for nationals, and I didn't want to take that away from him. So I was going to tell him gently, quietly. I'd rehearsed it ten times in front of the mirror. But when I saw him in the quad, the plan flew out the window.

He spotted me and grinned as if the moon rested upon me. "Come here," he growled, dragging me with his eyes burning in fire. He dragged me before I could utter a word and took me to an open class, locked it, and breathed his kiss right into me.

"Steel, wait, I—

"I've got five minutes before the coach drags me out again." His lips found mine once more, hands ravenous, quick, and urgent. "I need you, baby. Just like this."

My protest was eroded by his touch. I forgot my words.

When he finished, he folded his arms around me, still panting, still smiling. "I made it, Liza. Nationals. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I blinked.

"Okay. Quick. They need me in LA. I'll call you up every night, all right?"

I started to say it to him—Steel, I'm pregnant—but he kissed me again, quieted me with those fucking perfect lips, and disappeared before I could utter a word.

Three Weeks Later

Catalina slumped on our dorm bed, eyes swollen. "I'm leaving with Knox."

I blinked. "What?"

"He was transferred to his chapter in Arizona. I'm accompanying him. I can't stay here, not with everything that's going on. I wish you'd come with me."

"But Steel."

She became black-faced. "When did you hear from him last?"

I gulped.

She didn't need to say any more.

Three Months Later

Steel went dark. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

I left college in a whisper, not a bang. I invested the money my mom left me in some ancient account into a one-way flight to Portugal.

I gave birth in a clandestine hospital in Lisbon. No camera crews. No mobs. Just me… and two perfect, screaming little boys with black eyes and my cheekbones.

Twins.

They were so much like him.

But Steel was nowhere to be found.

And I was supposed to be enough.

EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER 

The silk of my gown clung to my form like a second breath, the champagne hue chosen with care—unobtrusive yet gorgeous. Enough to make headlines without detracting from my husband's political role. As always.

I stood by the sweeping staircase of my family's manor, hidden behind a soft golden mask, red lips painted on, and loose curls that fell around my face. My heels silently sank onto the marble as I walked into the hall of celebration.

Boyce was dictating orders as a general leading into battle, crisp and flowing in his navy uniform. He regarded me as I approached him, his hand on my lower back in that possessively exact manner he'd perfected for the press.

"You're absolutely stunning, my dear," he sighed, all smooth.

I obliged with a smile. "Thanks."

His mouth didn't even curve. "Now, remember… Tonight is important."

He never had to warn me. I knew anyway. Anything that occurred while you were married to the prime minister was important.

"I've invited someone who's very influential," Boyce continued, enjoying his wine as he surveyed the guests making their way in. "Someone whose endorsement will ensure our next stage of investment. A billionaire."

"Terrific," I muttered, scanning the room—not for power, but for the faces of two particular people.

"Your sons are here, too," he added tightly, as if they were bothering him.

"Our sons", I corrected softly.

He shot a quick glance but didn't say anything else. Ten years of marriage to him, and he didn't see them as his. Jaden and Jasson emerged from the side doors, both towering in black suits, sharp jawlines, and confident strides—twin versions of the boy who secretly loved me.

They kissed my cheeks, each one muttering a complaint under his breath.

"Why's he breathing down our neck already?" Jasson growled.

"I came for you, not for him," Jaden interjected.

My heart constricted. I smiled gently, brushing imaginary lint off Jaden's lapel. "It's just one night."

They nodded, dropping into their practiced bodyguard mode, standing watch beside me while we stood waiting for the final guest to arrive.

And then the mood shifted.

Whispers spread like electricity in the room. People leaned forward, some applauding. My eyes landed on the tall form entering—sharp black suit, silver cufflinks, trimmed beard and stormy eyes.

Steel.

My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat.

Older. Wider. Still dangerous. Still beautiful.

Our eyes locked.

Then his eyes landed on my sons.

He stood stock-still.

And I knew.

He knew.