He divorced her to protect her. 93 days later, the hospital called with a devastating secret.

News of Mercer Global’s sudden, aggressive counter-strike against Vanguard Holdings sent shockwaves through Wall Street. Financial news networks were broadcasting live updates as our algorithmic buy-orders systematically swallowed Vanguard's liquidity pool. Arthur Sterling, the untouchable titan of private equity, had suddenly found himself cornered by a man whose rage was fueled by something far more powerful than corporate greed: the protection of his wife and unborn child.

I stood on the private terrace of the Tribeca penthouse, watching the rain beat against the reinforced glass.

Marco stepped out onto the balcony, handing me a secure encrypted tablet.

"Arthur Sterling’s chief legal counsel just reached out through a backchannel," Marco reported, a rare smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "They want to negotiate a settlement. Sterling is willing to step down as CEO, forfeit his voting shares in Vanguard, and hand over all encrypted communications proving his collusion with Julianna in exchange for dropping the federal conspiracy charges."

I scrolled through the summary of the settlement terms on the tablet screen. It was total, unconditional surrender.

"Tell him no," I replied calmly.

Marco paused, blinking in surprise. "Boss? That’s everything we need to dismantle his entire operation permanently."

"I don't want his resignation, Marco," I said, turning to face him, the gray twilight reflecting in my eyes. "I want his empire. Let the federal prosecutors pursue every single criminal charge. No plea deals. No quiet retirements to the Hamptons. Men who think they can weaponize a man's family against him deserve to lose everything down to the last penny."

"Consider it done," Marco nodded, tapping his earpiece to relay the order to our legal team. "By the way... Mrs. Mercer is awake. She’s asking for you."

The cold, ruthless CEO persona vanished instantly, replaced by the man who had spent the last two weeks hovering over Elena's bedside like a guardian angel. I handed the tablet back to Marco, turned on my heel, and walked straight back into the penthouse.

The master bedroom was bathed in warm, amber lamplight.

Elena was propped up against a stack of goose-down pillows, wearing a soft cashmere robe. The color had finally returned to her cheeks, and though she was still resting, her eyes lit up softly as I walked through the double doors.

"You've been locked in your office all afternoon," she said gently, her voice carrying a melodic warmth that instantly quieted the storm inside my head. "Are you fighting wars again, Luke?"

I walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and taking her hand, pressing my palm gently against the soft curve of her growing stomach. Beneath my hand, a faint, undeniable flutter met my skin.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

Elena smiled softly, laying her hand over mine. "Did you feel that?"

"She... or he... just moved," I whispered, tears pricking the backs of my eyes for the first time since that terrible night at St. Catherine’s.

"Yes," Elena murmured, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Our baby is strong, Luke. Just like her father. And just like her mother."