Past few days have been a shithole. Working my ass off to crack this undercover job hasn't been as stressful as it fancies to be lately. Not much progress is made to say the least, and I got only three weeks to find the damn X-File that doesn't seem to be tangible at all.

At times I wonder if it's a real thing or just an oldwife tale made by some politically bored asshole in need to shake the base of all shady stuff going on in this dirty world. But if Marlow believes in its damn existence, who am I to judge? Investigating on a fruitless quest is never his style.

Certainly not. Clearly. He sniffs he bites, and he's a bloody patriot even if he sometimes acts like he ain't.

But what I do believe in is the existence of Bioweapons as another dangerous trigger to world chaos. Rumor has it that Kingston Pharmaceutical is a shadow company behind the development of a very deadly virus. If not not taken into account, another pandemic may rise—probably bigger than the COVID-19.

If Lara Cooper was the last person who is allegedly believed to have had the access to the X-File, then who else could have found it afterwards? The Federal Bureau thought it would be within the walls of Kingston House but there's no trace of it. It suddenly disappeared and everyone is on the lookout, including Patrick Kingston himself, and of course, his elder son.

Swirling in my thoughts, I don't realize I've reached Kenna's door. I suck in a breath, slowly dismantling the FBI scraps like the bad air from the fish market. How the fuck did I get myself into this mess, damn it? I sigh again, a bit relieved that I'll be expecting some new intel from the CIA secret agent assigned as my partner.

I wonder if it's another know-it-all pimp, or some pain in the ass like Fred Zinger, one of my second-in-command majors who resembled a cyborg. That bastard. Just the thought of his gravelly voice still takes me back to the snowstorms of Moscow.

Winter soldiers, my ass! It was freezing cold and I hate snow till date.

"Hey." Sharp gray eyes regard me when the door slides open. "What a surprise."

"Yeah. How are you, Kenna?" I reply after a sigh.

"Good. Come in. I bet you're here to see Mia, and she'd be delighted."

I smile feebly and walk in.

Kenna James. Up to now I haven't decided where exactly to put her. She's as sassy as butterflies in the country field, yet as tenacious as bees in the trunk. She is meek but not quite sweet. She's a riddle.

But she cares about Mia. That's the most important thing.

Sophie Diaz is also here. I may be tough and inflexible, but in front of this woman I somehow feel small. She's Mia's mom—literally like a Dowager countess. Not that she intrigues me, but there's a small part of me seeking her approval.

I'm a man having an affair with her daughter, dammit. She probably knows that by now.

But well, it's not my fault that the husband couldn't do a better job.

"Red!" She greets me rather amiably. "I'm glad to see you again."

Good going, jerk! Mama likes you!

"Sophie." I give her a small kiss on the cheek as she leans in for a small hug. "How are you?"

"Good. You came to see Mia?"

"With your permission. I really need to," I reply. Snarky! "I mean, I'm no longer working for her so—"

"It's alright, Red." She chuckles, and Kenna laughs lightly beside her.

"Sorry, I . . ." Running a hand through my hair, I find myself laughing along.

Fuck! Where did I lose my shit?

S0phie looks at me for a long moment, her eyes softening with a deep gleam of something strong inside her. "Thank you for protecting her every time she was in danger. As selfish as any mom can be for their children, I wish you'd always be by her side."

My heart rate speeds because I'd put her on a leash if I could, just so she wouldn't leave my sight. The damn thought of anything bad happening to her sends panic in me every single second of my time. I feel like I was born to protect her and my child.

Only that.

"Silly me, what am I saying now?" She laughs at herself, a flash of embarrassment sweeping over her face like a sea wave on the sandy shore. "Go ahead. Mia is still in her room," she tells me.

"I guess someone will get healed now," Kenna inserts her ass, giving me a playful grin.

As if I'm that one person she can't live without, my feisty little Madam trudges from the bed and throws herself into my arms. Damn! I hold her so tightly, avenging all the times I wish she'd be right next to me when I sleep and wake at dawn.

The smell of her shampoo surrounds me like a thin blanket, some sort of vanilla and whatever that pleases my unearthed senses. I inhale her in, and I don't know how I keep falling for her everyday like a fool. Kissing the top of her head, our eyes meet.

"You alright?" I examine her carefully.

"Yeah. Just not a good day," she answers with a slim breath.

More pounds shredded off her body. Fuck! She's definitely not okay. Could it be because of the damn divorce? I miss the cheerful old her.

"Well, sorry to intrude," Kenna cuts in by the door. "Since you're now in safe hands, Mamacita, I think Sophie and I will go out for a while. Will that be okay? I want to show her around and get some fresh air myself."

"Sure. I'm not a teenager in need of some chaperone anyways," Mia murmurs. I smother a laugh. "And thanks, Kenna. I really want my mom to enjoy sightseeing and not staying inside the whole day. I wish I could join you."

"Mention not, and you're certainly not joining us today." Kenna blows her a kiss, before regarding me with a tight stare. "She hasn't eaten anything today so please do some magical spell to unstarve her, Red. Maybe she'll listen to you."

My eyes crinkle. "Is it true?" I ask Mia as Kenna strolls out, slamming the door to silence.

"I throw up every time I eat that's why," Mia says, still in my arms that guard her as if she'd fall otherwise. "I'll eat later; don't worry."

My frown deepens. Despite my limited knowledge about female anatomy and pregnancies, I still believe she gotta eat well in her condition. No wonder she gets bonnier everyday and I don't like it.

"I just want to be in bed for a while, Red. I'll eat later, just not now," she insists. "So . . . Just stay with me and I'll be fine. I really missed you and I'm glad you're here." Her soft lips graze against mine, ever slowly enough to make me hard if I don't stop her.

Seductive little thing!

My hands find a way through her light blue T-shirt like dress, claiming her tender ass like my most loved possession, and my tongue beats hers as we kiss so fervently. I know there's a lot at stake, and I certainly know that I can't be a man enough for her, but this moment feels just fine despite all the odds.

God help me!

She's panting deeply as she gazes up at me. Face pale, but cheeks red and well flushed. Before she opens her lips to say the reason for her blushing, someone knocks at the door. Automatically I set her free and a real laugh escapes her before she yells, "come in".

"Honey. We're going out, do you need anything?" It's her mother.

"No, Mom. I'm good." She walks toward her and their voices become a bit muffled afterwards.

Idly, I walk toward the window after scanning the sight of the room. Not as big as her older room at the mansion. No walk-in closet either, so her bags are still at the corner near a wooden dresser. Funny how life can turn shitty overnight.

But probably for the best sometimes.

The door shuts and my attention shifts. Mia clambers back in bed and I join her.. As I sit beside her, my back on the sofa headboard, she lays down and uses my chest as her pillow. This is it. That moment when she makes me feel so important through the vulnerability she hides from most.

"Sometimes I feel like I just take and take from you, Red. Ever since we met, I gave you nothing but troubles," she mumbles, her voice suddenly sad. I frown. "You deserve so much more and here you are, stuck with—"

"You think my life was any better than it is today?" I run my fingers through her silky hair, laughing gently at her.

"What do you mean?" She forces her gaze onto mine.

I sigh heavily. "I mean you gave a reason to live for, Mia." And to die for. "Before I didn't see anything that pushed me to love life as I do now. Every time I wake up knowing I have two people who need me, I feel like a superman, and it's a damn good feeling, trust me."

As terrifying as it may be.

Her pale pink lips tremble and a gleam of emotions rises in her eyes. "What about your family? Do you have siblings?" she asks.

"I wish I had siblings, but I was an only child. My father died in the line of duty. He was a soldier. And my mother followed him a few months later out of grief"—I laugh, because her sudden illness was a result of love fever—"so I have a few relatives and my grandfather."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, that gleam turning into tears.

"Don't be. They must be happy together," I reply with a stuffy breath.

"Is your grandfather from Arkansas too?"

"No," I answer.

I only moved to Arkansas a few years after quitting my services at the Corps. I can't tell her about my life as a soldier yet. I'm still on my mission and secrecy is a must so as to protect both of us.

"Are you close to him?" she asks again, trying to lure her curiosity into a mist of patience.

"We are. Maybe not at the moment, but we always were," I confess.

Family is still family no matter how many times you may differ.

"Let me guess." She lays her head back on my chest. "You have some differences, right? You probably wronged him because you look like a troublemaker kid sometimes."

I burst out laughing. "You sure? I wasn't the one who flew to Paris even when my mother said not to."

She laughs along, her slender fingers running over my chest in a smooth teasing manner. "Now I regret telling you about it."

"Do you feel the baby?" I suddenly ask, striking my mind out of the blue as I keep holding her.

She gives me a brisk surprised glance. "Um . . . I think I do, but not the way you are probably imagining."

"How exactly do you feel?" I'm very eager to know.

"Well . . ." She hoisters herself up and sits. My narrowed eyes stalk her as she laughs. "Maybe I could show you instead."

I don't get to understand a thing she says, especially when she suddenly holds the hem of her T-shirt and pulls it over her head. Very white bra. Matching underwear. God knows where my thoughts run to. Fuck!

She smiles again and sighs. "Come. Let me show you." She lays flat and beckons me to move. "Here. Place your ear on my stomach, and close your eyes."

Okay, is this a new science or something? Intrigued, I do as I'm told to do. The mattress dents from my weight. My cheek against her warm and soft skin, I use my elbow to anchor my body as I lay by her side.

My eyes shut and my breathing slows down the more I concentrate. I can't feel a thing, but when I focus for a good while, something happens. It's as if I can see it all from the inside.

Magical.

Gentle, very gentle pulse of a tiny human without a definitive shape. It's as if I can hold it, yet I know I can't. I can't really see it but I know it's there, and my smile appears.

"Did you feel it?" Mia whispers.

I raise my head. She is smiling at me, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"I did." My heart thumps into euphoria, like I've been running too much and I've suddenly found my stop. My ultimate destination. "When will that divorce be completed, huh?" I find myself asking like an intoxicated man I've become.

I want her for myself.

"Excuse me?" She giggles lightly.

I pant heavily, my emotions overwhelming.

"I fucking love you." I waste no time taking her into my arms, and make love to her senselessly.