TWO YEARS LATER
The wails of screaming pull me from deep slumber.
I stumble out of bed, rubbing my eyes as I head to the nursery. My feet come to a halt when I find Daniel already holding his fussy son and rocking him back and forth.
My heart leaps with a mixture of adoration and complete bliss. Suppressing a yawn, I lean against the doorframe and rub the sleep out of my eyes.
I’m tired, absolutely exhausted from working all day. Those who say being a chef is easy didn’t try having their own restaurant and branching out to other parts of the world.
It’s a full-time job, just like being a mother, and a wife. While I should use the chance that Conrad has his father with him, I can’t force myself to move.
I love the view more than sleep, more than rest, more than anything.
If I thought Daniel was attractive before, he’s downright mouthwatering as a father. It doesn’t matter that he’s only wearing a pair of boxer briefs—although it does add to the hotness. There’s an edge of maturity to him. A part that’s touched by time and experience and everything in between.
At first, he admitted that he never considered having children of his own. He was so cynical about it that I thought it would take some convincing.
I always wanted children, and even though I raised Jayden, I wanted to be a mother, not only a sister.
So color me surprised when, in the midst of a very intense fucking session during our honeymoon, in Zach’s island, my husband flipped me on the sand and said he wants to put a baby in me.
It was his show of possessiveness, I guess. He tends to be jealous of any man I know, including his own brother, so I thought he probably wants to stake his claim.
But after we talked about it, he said he meant it.
“I never wanted children before because I didn’t care for procreating for the sake of procreating,” he told me while we were lying on the sand, staring at the million stars.
I rolled around to face him. “It’s different now?”
“Fuck right it’s different. They will be our children, they will be a mixture of you and me. More importantly, you will be their mother.”
Then he proceeded to fuck me again and again. Nine months after that honeymoon, a little miracle called Conrad Sterling was born.
He has my eyes, his father’s hair, and the stubborn attitude of the two of us combined.
Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we don’t have our differences. We drive each other crazy like every healthy, passionate couple. We still fight about our differing points of view, but I’m starting to think Daniel does it on purpose for the make-up sex.
He turns my life upside down in every way possible. After I got into therapy about my past trauma, my life took a leap for the better. I became more body-positive, though Daniel played a major part in that.
Sometimes, he’d spend hours on end kissing me from head to toe and lighting my libido on fire until I beg him to fuck me already.
Other times, he’d let me have the control by telling me to ride him until I reach that peak.
He knows I need it sometimes, and even though he’s the dominant one, he lets me have a sliver of it once in a while.
And I love him for it.
I love him for forcing me to see myself again.
For making my chef dream real.
For taking care of Jay’s education.
My little brother is indeed a genius and is currently studying in one of the most elite schools in Europe. He comes home once a week and chatters nonstop about his friends and how he’s called a prince there.
He never asks or talks about his father after I told him he dropped the custody case. If anything, he was more relieved.
Christopher has checked himself into a mental institute a few months after Daniel incapacitated him and he admitted to hiring that thug. It was a last-ditch attempt to get revenge for what happened to him.
I don’t feel the least bit sorry for him.
It took me some time, but I got over the memory of him. I no longer get panic attacks or meltdowns. Nothing could erase what happened to me, but I learned to cope with it.
To accept it as a scar and live with it.
And the reason is the man who’s rocking our baby while his muscles contract with every movement. He looks like a fucking god with his tousled hair and killer physique.
Not to mention how powerful he is.
Daniel quit being an attorney soon after he was stabbed. He told me that he picked a different career from what his family expected as a jab to his parents, to not follow in his father’s footsteps, but that was the wrong thing to base one’s future on.
He’s now the CFO of Sterling Engineering, a pillar, and the reason for Zach’s stoicism.
If I thought Daniel was cold when I worked for him at Weaver & Shaw, then Zach takes the cake. He can really be a heartless devil.
Aunt Nora, who was over the moon when I gave birth to Conrad, cried while holding him, because she probably will never be able to hold Zach’s children.
Both her sons called her dramatic.
Daniel learned to make peace with his mother, and by learned, I mean that I forced them into enough dinners together that they both nearly choked on their food.
Papa and Astrid also join us. My stepsister and I don’t paint each other’s toenails, but she respects Daniel’s choice and me whenever we meet. Uncle Henry became my papa soon after I moved back here. He makes it his mission to include me in all familial occasions.
But my small family is right here.
With that man and that four-month-old baby.
Daniel places him in his crib and quietly backs away, steps on a toy, and curses under his breath, but he swallows the sound.
I suppress my laughter and he turns around, narrowing his eyes, before he grasps my waist and slowly pushes me out, closing the door behind us.
“Are you laughing at my misery, Mrs. Sterling?”
My heart flips and my muscles loosen at the sound of my new last name. I don’t think I’ll ever not have this reaction at being called Daniel’s wife. “Who? Me?”
“Don’t give me that tone, you little minx.”
“What tone?” I drop my voice, running my fingers across his chest.
“The tone that will get you fucked until the morning and you’ll walk funny tomorrow.”
“Why do you think I’m using it, husband?”
A squeal leaps out of me as he carries me to bed.
I’m obsessed with this man as much as he’s obsessed with me.
I’m his.
He’s mine.
Probably since we were kids.
