Page 92 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

The furniture, the shelves crammed with books, the way the moonlight filters in through the curtains- it’s all the same.

Piers steps inside, Valeria cradled securely against his chest as he takes in the room with deliberate attention. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my old space,” he admits, voice hushed with nostalgia. “But I’m glad it waited for us.”

He shifts, glancing toward the far side of the room. “Now, with this little one…” He looks down at Valeria in his arms, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lightly nuzzles her head with his nose. She lets out a soft, sleepy giggle as his fingers brush her delicate cheek. “I was thinking we could remake this place together,” he continues, the words buoyant with possibility. “The crib could go here, where the morning light is softer. And over there…” he gestures to the space by the window, “we could make a reading nook. Shelves, a chair for you.”

I press my fingers against the edge of the bed, grounding myself in the weight of memories. We used to sit right here, for hours, legs folded beneath us, talking about everything and nothing, lost in conversation until the sky turned pale with morning.

It was never supposed to be like this- so much time lost, so many things left unsaid.

And yet, as I watch him now, standing in this room with our daughter cradled against his chest, I realize that maybe not everything was lost.

A quiet ache settles in my chest, and I take a step toward him, drawn to the warmth of the life he’s building. “Piers…”

He turns to me then- really turns. Not just looking, butseeing.Me. Us. The future he’s daring to imagine.

He steps closer, tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. For a long moment, we look at each other, the silence stretching between us, before he speaks softly, his voice thick with emotion. “What do you want, Fantasia?”

I don’t hesitate.

“I want you,” I breathe. “Wherever you are, that's where I want to be.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting years to hear those words. Like they’re equal parts relief and agony.

I reach for him then, my fingers brushing against his hair, and he leans into my touch, closing his eyes for just a second.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” I continue, my voice shaking, but resolute. “And I’ve been missing you every single day since I ran.”

His eyes snap open, dark and searching, scanning my face like he’s trying to find even the slightest trace of hesitation. But there isn’t any.

I take his free hand in mine, threading our fingers together. “I can't undo the past, but I don't want to run anymore. I don’t want to live without you.” I squeeze his hand, grounding him the way he's always grounded me. “I want to be here, with you. With our daughter. For real.”

Slowly, he lifts our intertwined hands, pressing them against his lips. His grip tightens, like he's afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re serious,” he murmurs.

“With everything I have,” I promise.

He exhales, his eyes burning with something fierce and unrelenting. Then, without warning, he adjusts Valeria slightly in his arms and reaches for me, pulling me into him. His lips crash against mine, years of pent-up longing and unanswered questions dissolving into the certainty of this moment.

I feel it- everything we lost, everything we've found, everything we're about to rebuild.

When we finally break apart, breathless, he presses his forehead to mine. “Then marry me. Be my wife. For real this time.”

I let out a shaky laugh, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You sure you can handle me?”

A slow, crooked smile tugs at his lips, “I’ve always been sure.”

I always knew you were, I think to myself as I nod, my voice catching as I whisper, “Then yes.”

Piers exhales sharply, almost like he doesn’t believe it. Like he’s afraid I’ll change my mind if he blinks. But I won’t. I know that now.

And then, for the first time, we hold our daughter together.

Valeria shifts in his arms, stirring slightly, and instinctively, I reach out. Piers adjusts his hold so that she’s nestled between us, her small body warm and safe in the circle of our arms.

For a moment, we just sit there- silent, breathing each other in.

He places his lips just above my temple, his voice a gentle whisper, “welcome home, Fantasia.”

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