Page 43 of Royal Bargain (Royals of the Underworld #3)

ANNIKA

I t’s been almost three weeks since that night at the safehouse.

The bruises are fading. The stitches are out. I’m walking again—slowly, with a limp Liam insists is “just temporary,” though I’m not convinced. The pain’s dulled to a background throb, and I’m not flinching every time I move, so I guess that counts as progress.

Liam, though… he’s not healing the same way.

He’s jumpy. Wound tight. I’ve caught him at the window more times than I can count, just staring like he’s waiting for something to show up out of the dark.

His phone’s always going off. Sometimes he ignores it.

Sometimes he grabs his coat and goes without a word, and I don’t ask. I already know it’s bad news.

He won’t say it, but he’s fraying at the edges.

And the truth is… I am too.

We’ve been cooped up in this apartment for weeks. Waiting. Hiding. Holding it together with duct tape and deep breaths. Every day, I feel a little more restless, a little more like I’m just waiting for the next blow to land.

We can’t keep going like this. He knows it. I know it. So I make a call.

That evening, after Lily’s bath, I find him on the couch, half-asleep with her curled on his chest. She’s out cold, face smushed into his shirt, little fist tangled in the fabric. He’s got one hand on her back, the other limp at his side. He looks exhausted. They both do.

I sit next to him and lean my head on his shoulder. “You’re not sleeping,” I say quietly.

He doesn't answer right away, just keeps rubbing slow circles on Lily’s back like he’s afraid to stop.

“I can’t,” he says after a moment. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m gonna miss something.”

“You won’t,” I whisper. “But you will if you burn out.”

He sighs—deep and heavy, like he’s been holding it in too long.

“I was thinking,” I say, keeping my voice soft. “Maybe we should go away for a bit.”

His brow lifts. “Go where?”

“Away. Not forever. Just long enough to breathe.”

He shifts, adjusting Lily without waking her. “Ana, we’ve got too much going on. What if something happens while we’re gone?”

I shake my head. “Then it’ll happen. Whether we’re here or not. We’re not stopping any of it. We’re just making ourselves sick trying.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see the muscle in his jaw twitch. He’s thinking. Spinning.

I take his hand. “My dad offered me a place. Out in the country. No guards. No gates. Just a quiet house he inherited from his father. He said it’s safe.”

Liam goes still. “You want to stay at one of his places?”

“It’s not like that. It’s not Bratva-connected. It’s just old and tucked away. You can sweep the place when we get there. Hell, burn it down if it makes you feel better.”

That earns a faint smile. “Don’t tempt me.”

I nudge his shoulder. “I’m serious. I think we need this. Lily needs this.”

He looks down at her again, the tiniest little snore puffing against his chest.

“I’m scared,” he admits, voice low.

“I know,” I say. “Me too.”

He finally meets my eyes, and after a beat, he nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”

We head out just after sunrise, two days later.

Lily’s fussy at first—overtired, probably picking up on our stress—but once we hit the highway and the sun starts creeping up, she settles. I sit in the backseat with her, holding her tiny hand while Liam drives. He doesn’t say much, but his grip on the wheel eases the farther we get from the city.

It’s quiet in the car. No music. Just the hum of the road and Lily’s soft breathing.

Little by little, things start to shift. The buildings give way to trees. Traffic thins out. The sky gets bigger. It’s like we’re peeling away layers, one at a time.

When we finally pull up, the house looks… old. Like something forgotten, hidden deep in a fold of land where no one’s looking. The gravel crunches under the tires as we stop, and for a second none of us move. Even Lily stays asleep.

The place is wrapped in overgrowth—ivy climbing the stone walls, garden beds long past neatness. Weeping willows hang heavy over the drive, brushing the roof of the car like they’re checking who’s arrived.

Liam gets out first and unbuckles Lily, cradling her like something breakable. I follow, dragging my bag behind me, heart hammering way harder than it should be.

The house doesn’t feel like much at first glance. Not homey, not cold, just peaceful. Like it’s been waiting.

The front door creaks when we push it open. Inside, it smells like old wood, dust, maybe cedar? There’s a fireplace in the main room and tall windows that let in more light than I expected. The air is cool, stale but not unpleasant. Like the house has been asleep and we just woke it up.

It’s bigger than I thought it’d be. Not fancy—just wide spaces, worn stone floors, beams overhead that creak when Liam steps too hard. There’s a stillness to it that settles in my bones.

I don’t know if this place is a new beginning or just a pause—but I know I needed the quiet. We both did.

It’s not home. Not yet.

But it doesn’t feel like running, either.

It feels like we’re finally able to breathe .

Later that afternoon, we put a blanket out in the grass. Nothing fancy. Just enough space for Lily to lie on her back and kick at the air.

She babbles at the sky like she’s telling it a story. Every time the wind brushes her face, she squeals like it surprised her. Like she forgot it was coming.

Liam sits next to me. Close, but quiet. His arms are wrapped loosely around his knees. I catch him staring at her. That soft kind of stare, like maybe he’s afraid to blink.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get this,” he says finally. “Her. You. All of it.”

I glance over. He’s still looking at Lily.

“I really thought I lost you,” he says. “When you showed up at my place—I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to believe it was real.”

There’s a beat of silence. He rubs the back of his neck.

“And then when you got hurt…” His voice trails off. “I’ve never been that scared in my life.”

I reach for his hand. It’s rough and warm and trembling just a little.

“You didn’t lose me,” I say.

He exhales. Doesn’t look at me, not yet. “I was so stupid, Ana. I didn’t fight for you when I should have. I thought pushing you away would protect you. But I think I was just scared.”

Another pause.

“I don’t expect you to just forget everything,” he says. “But if there’s still a part of you that wants this—wants me—I’ll be here. However long it takes. I just… I need to know.”

I watch Lily for a second. Her little foot jerks up, chasing a sunbeam.

“There’s more than a part of me,” I say. “It never went away.”

He looks at me then. Finally.

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

His mouth twitches like he might cry or laugh or both. He leans in and kisses me, soft and slow. Like he’s afraid he’ll mess it up if he moves too fast.

Lily lets out a dramatic squeal mid-kiss.

We both laugh.

“She’s got timing,” Liam says.

“She gets it from me.”

“Yeah,” he says, still smiling. “That tracks.”

And somehow, just like that, it doesn’t feel like we’re waiting for the next explosion. Just… here. In this moment.

Later, when Lily’s down for the night, I’m brushing my hair out in the bedroom.

Liam walks in and doesn’t say anything. Just wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his head on my shoulder.

“I still think I’m dreaming,” he says.

“You’re not,” I tell him. “You found me.”

He turns me around and kisses me. Not urgent. Not careful either. Just real.

And this time, I don’t pull away.

He lifts me like I weigh nothing and carries me to the bed, setting me down with care but never breaking the kiss.

And then we take our time.

There’s no rush. No fear. Just skin against skin, breath against breath, our bodies moving together like they were made to. He touches me like he’s memorizing every inch of me again, like he’s reminding himself I’m real, I’m safe, I’m his.

And I give myself to him fully, completely—heart open, walls down. No masks. No lies. Just love.

We move together slowly, reverently, like the world outside doesn’t exist. Like it never did. His forehead rests against mine as we reach the peak, and he whispers my name like a promise.

Ana .

And when it’s over, we don’t let go.

We lie tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my back. Lily stirs in the next room, but doesn’t cry. As if even she knows—we’re okay. We’re here. Together.

The fire burns low, casting golden shadows on the walls. But I’m not afraid of the shadows anymore. For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe I might have a future. Something real.

The morning light slips in through the curtains, soft and warm against my skin.

I wake to the sound of birds and the quiet brush of Liam’s fingers pushing my hair off my face. He’s already awake, looking at me like he’s been lost in thought.

“Morning,” I whisper.

He smiles—sleepy, a little crooked. “Hey, beautiful.”

We lie there for a while, tangled up together, letting the silence settle. No phones buzzing. No deals falling apart. No threats hanging over our heads. Just us. Just this.

Then Liam shifts beside me. I feel the tension in him before he speaks.

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, sitting up a little. “I didn’t know if I should do this now. Figured I’d wait till we were back in the city. But then I thought, you know what? Screw it. This is home. Wherever you are, that’s home.”

He reaches for something beside the bed and pulls out a small box.

Inside is a ring.

Simple, vintage. A gold band with a round diamond and two little sapphires hugging the sides.

I stare, caught somewhere between breathless and blinking too much.

“I bought it the day after our first date,” he says, voice rough. “Kinda stupid, I guess. We barely knew each other. But I couldn’t stop thinking—‘She’s it.’ Thought I’d scare you off, honestly. But yeah. You were it.”

A quiet laugh slips out of me, hand flying to my mouth.

“I kept it,” he says. “Even after we broke up. Even after everything. I never stopped hoping I’d get to give it to you.”

His eyes find mine, serious and bare.

“I know we’re still figuring things out. But I love you, Ana. I love our girl. And I want to do this for real. You, me, Lily—whatever comes next. Will you marry me?”

My chest tightens, but it’s the good kind. The kind that makes you feel like you’ve finally exhaled after holding your breath for years.

“Yes,” I say, almost laughing. “Yeah. Yes.”

His hands are a little shaky when he slides the ring on, and mine are no better.

Then he kisses me—slow, a little clumsy, full of warmth.

Somewhere in the next room, Lily starts crying, loud and insistent.

We break apart, laughing.

“Well,” Liam says, rubbing his face. “Guess she didn’t want to miss the moment.”

“She’s got good timing,” I murmur.

I glance down at the ring. It’s not perfect. A little worn, a little off-center.

Just like us.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.