Chapter 6 - Sunrise Over the EstateThree months later, the spring sun rose over the grand glass balconies of the Cross estate overlooking Lake Michigan.
The lingering winter chill had given way to blooming cherry blossoms and warm morning breezes. Inside the expansive master kitchen, the smell of slightly burnt pancakes filled the air.
Alina stood near the marble island, laughing softly as Dorian—dressed in a crisp white shirt with his sleeves rolled up—carefully flipped a pancake onto a porcelain plate with an expression of intense, comical concentration, as if defusing a bomb.
“I told you, let me do the cooking,” Alina teased, resting a hand gently against her now noticeably rounded stomach.
“Never,” Dorian said, walking over and wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Some domestic traditions are sacred. Sunday pancakes are mine.”
The divorce papers from three months ago had long since been shredded, replaced by new medical documents, nursery blueprints, and a renewed vow written in blood and absolute devotion. Victor Petrovic and his syndicate had been permanently dismantled, dismantled by a husband who realized that the greatest strength he possessed wasn’t his empire, but the woman standing beside him.
Alina turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, looking up into the dark eyes that she now knew held the entirety of his world.
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Alina asked softly.
Dorian smiled, resting his forehead gently against hers, completely at peace for the first time in his life.
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“I don't care,” Dorian whispered, pulling her closer. “As long as they have your spirit, and they’re safe right here with us.”
And as the golden morning light flooded the kitchen, the shadows of the past finally vanished for good.
