The gentle clatter of dishes and the faint aroma of cinnamon filled the kitchen. Bella stood by the stove, her hair tied loosely, dressed in one of her oversized shirt and her leggings. The morning sunlight streamed in through the window, kissing the back of her neck as she carefully flipped the warm pancakes onto a plate.
She didn't hear him come in.
Not until a sudden, firm warmth pressed against her back—arms wrapping around her waist, chest to her spine.
Her breath caught.
"Lucas…" she murmured, half turning her head, her voice unsure—shy.
"Mmh," he replied softly, his voice still rough from sleep. He didn't move away. Instead, he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I could ask you the same," she said, heart beating louder than the sizzle from the pan.
She tried to keep her voice neutral, but the way his arms wrapped around her—solid and secure—sent a shiver down her spine. This was… new. Intimate. Not something they did every day. Not something she had expected him to do so casually, either.
He didn't answer her question directly. One of his hands slid gently up her waist, pausing on the curve of her belly. His thumb moved in slow circles, not in a hurry, like he was waiting for something.
"I'm feeling the baby," he said softly.
She swallowed. The air around them shifted—became heavier in the quietest, most beautiful way.
"There's nothing to feel yet," she murmured.
"I don't care." He kissed the edge of her jaw. "You're here. Our baby's here. That's enough."
Bella stood frozen for a second longer before she relaxed slightly, her hands still holding the spatula. Her cheeks were warm, and she knew he could probably feel the way her breathing had quickened. She don't know why he is doing this.
"I—Lucas, the pancakes—"
"Can wait." He buried his face into her neck for a moment and inhaled, like her scent was something that grounded him.
"You're clingy in the morning," she muttered, lips twitching. This proximity, his breath, everything is making her..... feel something she can't explain.
"But you are liking it."
She smiled, despite herself. "You're blocking the stove."
The sun was mild, the breeze playful. After breakfast, Bella suggested taking Rachel to the neighborhood park for a little picnic. Lucas, surprisingly agreeable, helped carry out the blanket and a basket of sandwiches, fresh fruit, and juice Bella had packed.
Rachel was all giggles as she ran barefoot on the grass, chasing bubbles that Lucas blew lazily from a wand.
Bella, seated on the blanket, laughed watching them. Lucas stole glances at her often—her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the quiet warmth in her eyes. Every now and then, his gaze would drift to her stomach, and a silent pride would fill his chest.
Rachel eventually curled up next to Bella, munching on cookies, while Lucas sat behind both of them, resting on his elbows.
"You're not going to wrestle her for the last cookie?" Bella teased.
Rachel giggled and curled closer to Bella. "I'll share."
It was peaceful—one of those rare, quiet moments that made Bella forget all the tension that constantly lingered just beneath Lucas's surface. For a few hours, they were just a small, happy family enjoying a Sunday together.
By evening, Rachel was asleep on the couch after watching a cartoon marathon with Lucas. Bella took her to bed, and as she returned, she found Lucas already dressed in all black—phone in one hand, gun holstered discreetly beneath his jacket, from where she can never find out.
"You're going out?" she asked, pausing in the hallway.
Lucas turned toward her. "There's something I need to take care of. Work."
Bella frowned slightly but didn't push. "Be careful."
He stepped forward, cupped her cheek, and kissed her forehead softly. "Always."
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Lucas arrived at a dimly lit underground location where Mark and Renato were already waiting, a map and digital tracker open on the table between them.
"The man who got the message," Mark started, "he's leaving tomorrow morning. On a private Russian vessel—Pier 7, just before sunrise."
"Only one man knows where we are?" Lucas asked, jaw tight.
"So far, yes. But if he reaches his boss, that won't stay true," Renato added.
Lucas folded his arms. "We can't let that happen."
They all stared at the glowing red dot blinking on the tablet screen.
"I'm going there tomorrow. Myself," Lucas said after a beat. "Before the ship sails."
Mark hesitated. "Want backup?"
Lucas looked toward the shadows. "I want silence. We don't risk drawing attention. This ends before it spreads."
They all nodded grimly. And with that, Lucas left the room, already mentally preparing for what tomorrow would demand.