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She is mine.

And God help anyone who ever tries to take them from me. I will end them. Slowly. Painfully. Completely.

A few hours later,we're in the back of a blacked-out SUV, headinghome. The word feels strange even as I think it. Gabe's penthouse. The place where I set fire to the kitchen to escape him. The place where I screamed his name while he ruined me in the best possible way. Now it feels like home. Funny how quickly that happened.

Gabe's hand is wrapped around mine, his thumb stroking slow circles over my knuckles. The driver is silent up front, giving us privacy. Gabe looks exhausted, but his eyes are soft when they rest on me.

"I love you," he says quietly. "You're making me the happiest man alive, Audra. I never thought I'd have this. Never thought I'd deserve it."

I squeeze his hand, my throat tight. "I've wanted this for so long. A family. A real one. Wild and loud and chaotic. I tried withPete for years… and nothing. Then one night with you and…" I let out a shaky laugh. "Twins."

Saying Pete's name leaves a sour taste in my stomach now. Not because I don't mourn him—I do, in a quiet, grieving-for-a-friend kind of way—but because this joy I'm feeling right now is exactly what he denied me for years. On purpose. He stole that future from me without ever asking how I felt about it. His being dead doesn't make me any less angry at him. I think it's also killed a lot of the feelings I had for him. If he were still alive, we wouldn't just be separated; I'd file for divorce right now. This kind of betrayal? That's not something you get over. Ever.

The anger wars with the joy I'm experiencing right now. The quiet disbelief that this is really happening. That I'm actually pregnant. After all the tears, the doctor visits, the silent disappointment… one night with Gabe, and my body said yes.

Gabe lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. "Twins," he repeats, wonder still thick in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about it."

The car glides through the city lights. I stare out the window for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, but Gabe keeps talking, his tone shifts into that of the decisive, mobster boss I'm starting to recognize.

"I've arranged for a justice of the peace to meet us at home," Gabe informs me, like he's telling me what we're having for dinner. "We'll keep it small for now. Quiet. And later, we'll do it properly. Whatever you want. Wherever you want. Big white dress, flowers, the whole thing."

My brain lags behind his words.

"Tonight… we make it official."

I blink at him, still trying to catch up. "I'm sorry—what?"

He doesn't smile. Doesn't soften it. Just looks at me with that steady, unshakable certainty that has undone me more than once already.

"The babies need a mother and a father," he explains slowly. "A married mother and father."

My chest tightens. God. Iamwith him. I know I am. There's no question there anymore. Whatever this is between us, it's real. Bigger than anything I've ever felt. Bigger than anything I thought I was capable of feeling.

But getting married tonight? This feels like stepping off a cliff without knowing how far the drop is.

"Gabe…" My voice comes out softer than I intend. "I buried my husband less than a month ago."

The words sound strange even to me. Like they belong to someone else. Someone watching my life from the outside, trying to make sense of it. Because the truth? Pete and I were over long before the bullet. If we hadn't been, we would have been. But still…

Grief curls in my chest, tangled with guilt and something sharper I don't want to name.

"I just—" I shake my head, trying to find something solid to hold onto. "This is fast. Too fast. I haven't even caught my breath yet, and you're asking me to?—"

"To marry me," he finishes calmly.

Yes. I nod to myself. That. I press my lips together, my hand drifting instinctively to my stomach. Where our babies are living. Two heartbeats growing inside me. A family. Everything I thought I wanted. Everything Idowant. That's the problem. Because part of me wants to say yes. Right now. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just jump.

The other part… the part that remembers what it feels like to lose control of my own life, rears up hard.

"I'm with you," I tilt my head, because that part is true. "I am. But I need… I don't know. A little time. To catch up. To make this make sense in my head." I meet his eyes. "Can we just be engaged for now? Keep it between us until I can stand in frontof someone and say those words without feeling like I'm running from one life straight into another?"

He watches me for a long moment. His thumb brushes slowly over my knuckles, steady, grounding. "I wish I could give you that."

Something in my chest sinks.

"But I can't."

There it is. Not harsh. Not raised. Just… final.