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"I have the proof I've spent my whole adult life searching for, Bianca." I brush my thumb across her knuckles. "I have no more suspicions. No more nightmares. I have but one thing left to do."

A shaky breath catches in her throat. "Luca, I don't—"

I shake my head and squeeze her hands. "Tonight, it ends. And then, we claim the throne and get on with our lives. In justice."

She presses herself against me, her bare skin warm through my suit. "I can't lose you. Not now."

Something in her voice makes me pull back, studying her face. There's fear there, yes, but something else—something deeper. Like she's protecting more than just herself.

I cross back to the bed, pull her down with me and take her face between my hands, memorizing every line, every curve. If she carries Volkov blood through her father, if my own father has manipulated our meeting from the beginning—none of it matters.

She is mine. And soon to be Queen of our empire.

"Lock the door behind me," I instruct, pressing a fierce, possessive kiss to her mouth. "Trust no one until I return."

I feel her eyes following me across the room, her choked breath heavy on my shoulders. Tonight, I face my father with the evidence I've sought since I was fifteen years old, kneeling in my mother's blood on cathedral steps.

Tonight, Vito Ravelli will answer for Elena's murder.

But before I can close the door, I hear the words that change everything.

"Luca… I—I'm pregnant."

The world stops. Two words, and suddenly… everything shifts.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Luca

Inasingleheartbeat,my world realigns.

I cross the room, dropping to my knees before her. My hands hover over her abdomen, not quite touching, suddenly afraid of my own strength.

"Say it again," I demand.

Bianca's fingers tremble as she guides my palm to rest against her warm, bare skin. "I'm pregnant, Luca Ravelli. With your child."

A fierce, primal heat blooms beneath my ribs.

For a man who deals in death daily, the creation of life strikes me harder than you think it would. I press my face against her stomach, breathing in the scent of her skin, imagining the changes already taking place beneath my touch.

My heir. My blood. Growing inside the woman I've claimed as my own.

"When?" I manage, words scraping my throat raw.

"I don't know exactly. Five weeks, maybe six. I took a test the day I visited my mother without permission."

The day Elena's tomb was desecrated. The day everything began spiraling toward tonight's inevitable confrontation.

My hands tighten on her hips, the urge to possess, to protect, overwhelming everything else.

Even the revenge that's burned in my blood all night.

"Luca," Bianca's fingers tangle in my hair, drawing my face up to meet her gaze. "Are you still going to confront Vito? After this?"

The recording burns in my pocket, a tangible anchor of the task ahead. My father's voice, ordering my mother's brutal execution. The final piece in a puzzle I've been assembling since I knelt in Elena's blood on cathedral steps.

"Now more than ever," I rise to my feet, cupping Bianca's face between my hands. "Because, my love, now I have two hearts to protect. Not just one."