Page 83 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

Z's phone buzzes, interrupting the moment. His expression shifts as he reads the message, all traces of humor vanishing. “Talon said the jet is ready. Wheels up in ninety minutes.”

My throat tightens as reality sets in. They're leaving, again, while I stay behind. I nod, pushing aside the instinctive protest rising in my chest.

“Ninety minutes, you say?” I repeat.

“Absolutely not,” Oscar says firmly, his hand still resting on my belly.

Z shakes his head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. “We're not having a quickie before wheels up, Vesper.”

"I wasn't—" I start to protest.

“Yes, you were,” Z counters. “I know that look. It's the same one you gave me in the weapons room last week before you asked me to bend you over the?—”

“That's enough,” I cut him off, though I can't help the smile tugging at my lips. “Fine. You caught me. But can you blame me? You're both leaving, and these pregnancy hormones are driving me insane.” It’s hard enough to find alone time while running our empire and raising Matteo. The twins will make it that much harder. If they think I am bad now, they’ll be in for a rude awakening after the birth of our twins. Alone time will be a slam, bam, thank you ma’am in between diaper changes and feedings.

Oscar's thumb traces small circles on my neck, his touch both soothing and maddening. “We'll be back before you know it, solnishko. And then you can have your wicked way with both of us.”

“Promise?" I ask, hating the vulnerability that creeps into my voice.

“Have we ever broken a promise to you?”

“Only when you promised to let me come with you on missions while pregnant,” I remind them, arching an eyebrow.

Z's laugh is low and warm as he leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that's both tender and possessive. I taste Oscar on his tongue and smile against his mouth, loving how they share everything, including me.

“That wasn't a promise. That was a negotiation tactic.”

“One that failed spectacularly,” Oscar adds, his fingers still tracing patterns on my neck. “Some battles even you can't win, solnishko.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I hate being left behind.”

“We know." Z's expression softens as he drops to one knee beside me, his hand joining Oscar's on my rounded belly. "But these little warriors need their mother to be safe. And we need to know you're protected."

As if responding to their father's voice, one of the twins delivers a sharp kick against Z's palm. His face lights up with wonder. rare, unguarded moment from a man who wears his reputation like armor.

“See? Even they agree,” he says, grinning up at me.

“Traitors.” My hand covers his, holding it against the place where our children grow. “Just...be careful. Both of you. I need you to come back.”

Oscar leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Always, solnishko. We have too much to live for now."

“The children need their fathers,” I say, my voice catching slightly. “All of them.”

Z rises to his feet. “Talon will keep you busy while we're gone. You both could use a little alone time. And we'll be back before these little ones can miss us.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. This is our life now, the delicate balance between the family we've built and the mission we've undertaken to dismantle my grandfather's legacy of pain. Each facility we shut down brings us closer to the peace we've fought so hard to achieve.

“Go,” I tell them, summoning the strength that's carried me through worse than this. “Go free those people. Bring them home.”

Oscar's hand squeezes my shoulder one last time before he straightens, already shifting into mission mode. "I'll download the latest intel to your secure tablet. You'll have eyes on everything except the ground operation."

“I want comms access, too,” I insist. “I need to hear your voices.”

Z's expression softens. “Done. But no backseat driving when we're in the field.”

“I make no promises,” I reply, the ghost of a smile touching my lips.

Oscar heads out first, tossing me a wink as he grabs his jacket from the hook by the door.

“Try not to miss me too much,” he teases, already halfway into the hallway.

“Not if you remember the chips,” I shoot back, grinning.

He disappears around the corner, the sound of his voice still echoing faintly—rich, familiar, and warm.

Zaire lingers. He always does. Always the last to leave, like even a few steps away from me costs him something. He walks to the door in slow, deliberate strides, then pauses in the frame.

“I love you, moya koroleva .”

The words land in that quiet, sacred place he always seems to reach without trying. He offers me a small smile—rare and real—before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him.

I’m alone in the soft hum of silence, still seated in my desk chair, surrounded by half-finished reports and the lingering scent of the life we’ve built.

I lean back and rest both hands on the swell of my belly.

The twins shift beneath my palms, like they heard the voices fading down the hall and wanted to answer.

“Two of your fathers are already impossible,” I murmur, brushing gentle circles over the curve of my belly. “And the third?” A smile tugs at my lips. “He’s going to relish having two more girls to spoil.”

None of them know yet.

It’s a secret I’ve kept for myself. One perfect truth tucked away in the quiet corners of my heart—twin girls. Two strong, wild little hearts beating beneath mine. And not a single one of their fathers’ suspects.

A soft breath escapes me, half amusement, half awe, as I picture the chaos to come.

Zaire, blindsided the first time one of them outsmarts him.

Oscar, pretending to grumble while being utterly wrapped around their fingers.

And Talon? He won’t even pretend. He’ll spoil them relentlessly and call it good parenting.

God help them when these girls figure out the kind of power they’re born into.

I shift, bracing one hand on the edge of the desk as I rise, the other still cradling my belly.

“Let’s go see what your other father is up to,” I murmur. “Oz and Z didn’t want to play, but Talon will.”

The pint of ice cream waits for me in the little freezer Talon had installed in my office by the cabinet.

I grab a pint and a spoon from the container on top of the freezer, then head for the door, my steps slow but sure.

The reports can wait. The world can wait.

The lights in my office flicker gently as I step into the hall, leaving behind the chaos, the strategy, the past. Heading toward the only thing that matters now.

Because after everything we endured—every betrayal that cut too deep, every scar we thought we’d never stop carrying, every truth that shattered the ground beneath our feet—only one thing remains unshakable.

Family. Not the one we were born into, but the one we bled for. Fought for. Chose.

We didn’t just survive all the darkest truths .

We rose from them.

And in the ashes, we built something fierce. Something real.

Something that finally feels like home.

Want more from the world of the Second Sons?

Dive into the darkness with All The Sins We Inherit —a brand new MM duet that takes you deeper into the shadows.

Join Luca and Alex.

Their story begins here.