Page 159 of Forged

“You did,” Lars says.

Gabriel glances between us.

“Should I be concerned?”

I pick up the test and hold it up. Gabriel blinks once.

“You’re pregnant?” he says slowly.

“Yes.” I nod, eyes filling with tears.

He steps into the room, his gaze flicking briefly toward my stomach before returning to my face, his fingers sliding into my hair when he reaches me.

“Fuck, Siren, this makes me so happy.”

Lars leans against the counter beside us as Gabriel peppers my cheeks with soft kisses.

Just months ago, the idea of building a life like this would have sounded impossible. Our world was still tangled in secrets and betrayals, the future constantly shifting beneath our feet.

But I’m so thankful that all of that changed.

After Gabriel killed Falco to protect me and he fed Enzo all the information he needed to trap Sera, Gabriel became a member of the Syndicate. He’s working with Rowan to secure the family’s infrastructure and gain digital information for assignments. He’s found his place in the organization and he’s protected.

Lars’ hand is running up and down my back when I say, “I guess the pill was useless against you two.”

“Maybe Violette wasn’t lying about Marchetti sperm,” Gabriel says as the three of us laugh.

We all pull back, eyes misty, breaths heavy and at a single moment we’re all hit with a frightening realization.

I shout, “Not it.”

Gabriel follows, his words overlap mine and Lars is too late.

“Damn it,” Lars mutters.

I laugh as Gabriel tugs him to his side as he teases, “Guess you’re the one who gets to tell Violette.”

Two Years Later

“Lucian, no!”

My son ignores me completely.

The small blur of tawny curls and unstoppable enthusiasm barrels across the grass like a missile with legs, heading directly toward the decorative fountain that Enzo insisted on installing last year because he claimed it added “architectural balance” to the garden.

In reality, what it added was a drowning hazard for small children. I nearly punched him for his stupidity.

“Lucian!” I try again.

But he just screeches with laughter and increases his speed. The child has exactly two settings: asleep and mayhem.

I catch him halfway to the fountain, scooping him into my arms just as he tries to launch himself toward the water.

“Nice try, menace,” I tease, kissing his cheek.

Lucian giggles and pats my face as if he’s pleased with himself.

Across the lawn, Neomi holds our two-month-old daughter, Luna, while she watches the entire scene unfold with amusement. Zara sits to her right, laughing at my misery.