Yu let his lashes flutter, gathering air into his lungs as if every word was a weight he had to measure before speaking. His cheek pressed into Adrian's chest, and he spoke quietly—softer than the hum of the city outside, but deliberate.
"…I'm a very needy person."
Yu began, his tone almost businesslike, though tremors of vulnerability broke through.
"I hate violence, Adrian. That gun of yours—it scares me. If you ever want to…be close to me, then it has to go. I don't want it near me. Or near them."
His hand drifted to his belly, tender and instinctive.
He shifted a little, curling closer as if testing how much warmth Adrian could hold.
"I hate being neglected. I like being thanked, being noticed. I need to be acknowledged for the things I do, the little things no one sees. And I need attention. A lot of it."
His lips curved into the faintest, fragile smile.
"Especially now…with the babies."
The word babies hung between them, heavy as an anchor. Yu rubbed at the small swell under the sheets, his eyes turning misty. He took another breath, and then, almost too softly, he let it fall.
"Also… the father of my babies…is Theo."
Adrian went rigid, his body locking around Yu like a snare. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp, forcing itself through disbelief.
"…From that time you told us—you lost your virginity?"
Yu didn't speak. He couldn't. He only lowered his gaze, lips pressed thin, and then slowly…slowly…he nodded.
Tears blurred his vision before he could blink them away.
"It was a drunken mistake…"
Yu whispered, voice cracking as though every word shredded his throat.
"I never intended this. I never intended to get pregnant. But by the time I found out…it was already too late."
He squeezed his belly, fragile and trembling, as if bracing himself from the weight of his own confession.
"I don't have feelings for him. I don't love him. I did him a favor, and now he's forcing me to marry him. He doesn't know I'm pregnant. He doesn't know he's the father."
The silence that followed was a living thing. Adrian stared down at him, stunned, reeling as though the ground had been stolen from beneath his feet. His chest rose and fell unevenly, torn between rage, disbelief, and something far more dangerous brewing in the depths of his eyes.
Adrian's arms tightened around Yu before his mind even caught up, the instinct so fierce it nearly startled him. The revelation still echoed in his head—Theo… Theo's the father—but his heart, traitorously, didn't recoil. Instead it drove him to anchor Yu closer, wrapping him up as if sheer force could shield him from everything outside this fragile bed.
"Shhh…"
Adrian murmured into Yu's hair, the roughness of his voice softened by care.
"It doesn't matter, Yu. None of that matters. You're here. With me. And I'm not going anywhere."
His hand, digits brushing with reverence, slid over Yu's belly and stilled there, protective, possessive.
"I'll be there every step of this pregnancy. Every sleepless night, every doctor's visit, every craving. If you go to France, I'll follow you. If you run to the ends of the earth, I'll be right there. You and the babies… you'll never face this alone."
Yu sniffled, red-rimmed eyes shining. His lips trembled.
"…Even though they're not yours?"
Adrian didn't hesitate. He pressed his palm firmer against Yu's small swell, his brown eyes steady, unwavering.
"It doesn't matter if they're mine. If you love them… then I'll love them too. I'll treat them as if they were my own. That's a promise."
The words broke something loose inside Yu. He froze, staring at him as if trying to understand how someone could say something so impossible, so undeserved. His composure shattered a second later; the tears came, hot and unrelenting, and Yu crumpled into Adrian's chest.
"I don't deserve you."
He choked out between sobs, the guilt, the longing, the fragile gratitude all tangled in his voice.
Adrian hushed him with whispers, murmuring praises and soft reassurances, rubbing circles on Yu's back.
"You're beautiful. So strong too. You're worth everything."
Each word a balm, even as a storm brewed in his heart.
Because beneath the tenderness, Adrian's jaw clenched. His mind burned with one truth.
'Theo had taken advantage of Yu. Theo had left him with this weight alone, while painting himself as some fiancé. And now he dares to plan to take Yu from me?'
Adrian's arms tightened further, his eyes darkening as his lips pressed into Yu's temple in a vow unspoken.
'If Theo thinks he can keep Yu, he's mistaken. Yu has already chosen—without words, without vows. And I'll make sure Theo never gets the chance to touch him again.'
Yu's tears slowed by degrees, his sobs tapering into soft hiccups that Adrian's hand on his back seemed to steady. He murmured low and steady, lips brushing against the crown of Yu's head.
"It's alright. You're safe. Sleep now, my love. I'll hold you. Just rest."
Little by little, Yu's trembling eased. His breaths evened out, his damp lashes fluttering closed as the exhaustion of pregnancy, satiated hunger, and heartbreak dragged him under. Curled into Adrian's chest, his small frame softened, vulnerable, trusting.
Adrian stayed utterly still, his heartbeat strong against Yu's cheek, until the weight of Yu's sleep was certain. He dared to shift only enough to pull the blanket higher, tucking it around Yu like a fragile treasure that had to be guarded from the world.
And then, as his earthy eyes lingered on the damp streaks across Yu's face, the tenderness twisted. Beneath the hush of the quiet room, his thoughts turned sharp, cold.
'Theo Kingsley.'
The name pulsed in his skull like venom.
'He'd taken advantage of Yu, stolen his first time, left him to carry this burden in silence while draping himself in the costume of a noble man. Engagements, rings, marriage—Theo's every move reeked of control. He'd painted himself as untouchable when all he'd done was scar him.'
Adrian's jaw locked.
'If Theo thinks he can cage him, he's wrong. If he thinks he can parade Yu like a trophy bride while knowing nothing of his suffering—he'll pay for that mistake.'
He looked down at the swell beneath the blanket, where Yu's hand had slipped in sleep to cover his belly.
'Theo's child or not, it doesn't matter. If Yu loves them, then they're mine too. And I'll tear down anyone who dares to hurt him again.'
The hand that had soothed Yu now flexed into a fist, restrained only by the fragile weight in his arms. He pressed a kiss to Yu's temple, softer than a whisper, though his eyes burned with fury.
'Sleep, love. Rest. I'll take care of everything. When I'm done, Theo won't even be a shadow in your life.'
The night deepened, city lights beyond the penthouse windows bleeding into shadows across the walls. Yu slept soundly now, curled small against Adrian's chest, the rise and fall of his breathing feather-soft against his collarbone.
Adrian held still, every muscle taut with the dual weight of tenderness and fury. His gaze stayed on Yu's sleeping face, memorizing each delicate line, each vulnerable flicker of his lashes.
Slowly, carefully, Adrian shifted one arm free. He slipped his phone from the nightstand, screen lighting his hardened expression in cold blue. With one final look at Yu to ensure he hadn't stirred, Adrian swiped to his encrypted contacts.
The line clicked alive almost instantly.
"…Cross."
The gravelly voice on the other end was quiet, but carried weight. A ghost from Adrian's old world.
Adrian's own tone was low, deliberate.
"I need information. Everything you can get me on the Kingsleys. Especially Theo."
A pause.
"… Heh, and here I thought the oh-so enigmatic Ruthless Black Regent had truly left our world behind. So tell me, what's he doing going after the Kingsleys. Messing with them is dangerous. You sure about this?"
A fitting Yakuza nickname for Adrian—one that carries both cold authority and a dangerous edge—one he thought he would never hear again:
"The Ruthless Black Regent"
Among the underworld, it's whispered with caution. Regent marks him as the inevitable heir, a man who rules even before he formally takes the throne, while Ruthless is not bravado but reputation—earned through quiet, decisive brutality. The Black speaks to both his restraint and the shadow he moves through, a darkness that doesn't rage, only waits.
To outsiders, it's a name that chills the spine.
To those inside the clan, it's a warning.
Adrian's eyes drifted down to Yu, his small body curled protectively around the blanket, his hand still unconsciously resting over his belly.
"I'm sure."
Adrian whispered.
"Find me leverage. I don't care what it costs."
Another pause. Then.
"…Understood. I'll be in touch."
The call ended. Adrian set the phone down and slid his arm back under Yu with meticulous care. He wrapped himself around the smaller man again, protective, possessive, as though he could shield him from all the storms waiting outside.
His vow sharpened in the silence as his eyes grew heavy with sleep.
'I'll dismantle Theo piece by piece if I have to. He won't touch you again. Not your body, not your shadow, not your babies. You're mine now. And I'll keep you safe.'
...
The night dragged into dawn, and finally the sun bled soft light across the penthouse blinds.
Yu stirred first. His lashes fluttered, his body heavy and warm. The faintest awareness came to him—his legs tangled with Adrian's, his back tucked securely into the larger man's chest, Adrian's arm resting heavy over his middle.
Heat rose to Yu's cheeks. Embarrassment swirled with something far gentler—an aching warmth, safety, the rare sensation of being cherished. For once, he didn't feel used, or forced, or watched. He felt… wanted.
And it was maddeningly hard to move.
His lips trembled with the beginnings of a smile he quickly buried against the pillow.
'I should get up… I should.'
But he didn't. Not yet.
Adrian stirred awake once more, the light of dawn brushing against his lashes. The first thing he saw was Yu—warm and small, still nestled in the crook of his arm, his delicate profile softened by morning light. For a long moment, Adrian simply looked.
His chest tightened, a painful, overwhelming swell. His arms twitched with the instinct to pull Yu closer, to lock him there and never let him go. But he didn't. He couldn't risk tightening his grip and hurting Yu—or the babies. Instead, he buried his face in the soft fall of Yu's hair, nuzzling against his nape, and inhaled deeply. Yu's scent was grounding, like oxygen after nearly drowning.
Yu felt it. The brush of breath against his neck, the subtle restraint in Adrian's muscles. His thoughts tumbled in fragile chaos.
'He's awake… does he know I'm still pretending to sleep? Should I slip away? Stay? Why does it feel so good to be here, like this, wrapped up in him?'
His heart thumped with warmth and fear alike. He almost decided to stay—just for another heartbeat, another stolen moment—when it hit.
A sour pang rose like fire from the pit of his stomach, climbing hot and fast into his throat. Morning sickness.
Yu's body jolted before his mind even caught up. He shoved himself upright, untangling Adrian's arm and sheets with trembling urgency. Adrian stirred wide awake, confused, but Yu didn't wait—he stumbled across the room and slammed into the bathroom just in time.
The toilet seat clattered as Yu fell to his knees, gagging violently. His body convulsed as he vomited, every wave sharp and raw.
Behind him, Adrian's heavy footsteps approached in a rush. His body reacted before his mind did. The moment he heard the retching echo off tile, he was out of bed and into the bathroom, barefoot and frantic.
"Yu—!"
His voice cracked, a mix of alarm and tenderness.
He dropped to his knees behind him, ignoring the way the cold floor bit into his skin. His large hand hovered first, unsure if touching would make it worse, then gently settled between Yu's trembling shoulder blades. He rubbed slow, firm circles, grounding.
"Breathe, it's alright. I've got you… I'm right here."
Another wave wracked Yu, and Adrian cursed under his breath, shifting closer to hold his hair back, to brace him steady as his body shook with each gag. He reached blindly with his free hand, fumbling for a towel to wipe Yu's mouth, his movements clumsy but desperate to ease him.
Yu, caught in the miserable grip of his morning sickness, could only cling to the cold porcelain. The world narrowed to acid burning his throat, his stomach wrenching until there was nothing left but raw heaves. Adrian's voice threaded faintly through the noise, a low, steady rumble of reassurance.
'Don't look at me.'
Yu thought bitterly, shame flooding even as bile stung his lips. His belly twisted, his arms trembled. He hated feeling weak like this, small and ugly, when Adrian's warmth pressed so close, when his hand soothed in calm circles.
But the circles helped. The deep, grounding voice anchored him through each painful lurch. When the heaves finally slowed, Yu sagged against the bowl, chest heaving, sweat sticking strands of hair to his forehead. Adrian dabbed his lips with the towel, tender, almost reverent.
From Yu's blurred vision, Adrian looked like an anchor, his presence filling the bathroom with a kind of fierce gentleness.
Yu's storm raged behind his ribcage even after the violent retching stopped. His body sagged over the bowl, shivering with fatigue, bile stinging the back of his throat.
'I hate this… I hate being seen like this.'
His chest ached, his hands trembled against the porcelain. The sound of running water filled the silence, then Adrian's hand was at his back again—steady, grounding, saying without words you're not alone.
A glass appeared in Yu's line of sight, cool condensation beading against the surface.
"Rinse. Take small sips."
Adrian murmured softly, kneeling close but giving him space.
Yu obeyed, rinsing, sipping, then holding the cup in both trembling hands. He tried to laugh it off, tried to make his voice sound light, normal, anything but what he was feeling.
"I… I'm fine. Just—morning sickness. You don't have to… fuss."
But the thin veneer cracked almost immediately. His vision blurred, tears welling stubbornly until one slipped down his cheek.
"You must… you must think I'm disgusting. Gross. Who—who'd want to see this first thing in the morning? Who'd want—"
His throat closed, voice breaking.
'You'll leave. You'll see what a mess I really am and—'
"Stop."
Adrian's tone was gentle, but it cut through Yu's spiraling with finality. His large hand cupped Yu's damp cheek, thumb brushing away the tear, while the other steadied his back. His voice, low and hushed, was firm with truth.
"Don't ever say that again. You hear me? You are not disgusting. You'll never be gross to me. You're…"
His throat tightened, but he pressed on.
"You're beautiful. Perfect. Irresistible. Even like this. Especially like this."
And before Yu could argue, before the storm could build again, Adrian leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Yu blinked in shock, then hiccupped a laugh through his tears, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You're disgusting. Who kisses someone after they've just puked?"
Adrian chuckled, his shoulders relaxing, his forehead pressing briefly against Yu's.
"Me. And I'll keep doing it too."
The storm inside Yu eased, replaced by a fragile warmth. His body leaned into Adrian's without thinking, and Adrian's arms wrapped securely around him, cradling him in quiet strength. For the first time, after puking first thing in the morning, Yu's trembling stopped. The bathroom—ugly, humiliating moments ago—now felt strangely safe, domestic.
The day outside waited with its dangers and uncertainties, but here, in the warmth of Adrian's arms, Yu let himself believe in a fragile normalcy. A beginning. Maybe even a new kind of morning.
Adrian coaxed Yu up from the cool tile floor with the same care he might use for someone made of glass.
"Come on."
He said gently, one arm steadying Yu's waist, the other guiding him out. He let Yu rest on the edge of the bed while he went about getting new clothes for Yu. Having arrived without thinking he would be spending the night, Adrian resigned to re-wearing his clothes from yesterday. After helping Yu dress, Adrian took Yu's hand and they made their way to the kitchen and dining space.
"I'll make you something light. Just a little food in your stomach will help."
Yu let himself be led, still feeling wrung-out but calmer, and when Adrian eased him into a chair at the kitchen table, he melted into the wooden backrest with a sigh.
Adrian rolled his shoulders, clearly unused to domestic duty, and padded toward the stove. He pulled out eggs, bread, and butter with an almost comical seriousness, muttering under his breath like he was reciting legal notes. The pan clattered, the butter sizzled, and when the first egg cracked, half the shell slipped in too. Adrian cursed softly, fishing it out with the tip of a fork.
Yu's lips curved upward. The tension of the morning eased as he rested his chin in his hand, watching this broad-shouldered man in his undershirt trying to wrestle a frying pan like it was an enemy witness on the stand. His heart fluttered unexpectedly at the sight—Adrian wasn't just attentive, he was trying. Fumbling, imperfect, but trying for him.
Yu's chest warmed.
'This… this is nice.'
He leaned back in his chair, eyes lingering on the neat lines of Adrian's tattoos disappearing beneath his shirt, the furrowed brows as he focused so earnestly on not burning breakfast. The kitchen smelled of butter and toast; the atmosphere was fragile, but soothing. For once, Yu felt… safe.
Then the front door slammed open with a bang.
"Yuvin!!"
Joy's voice rang through the penthouse, frantic, too-loud, every syllable quivering with panic.
Yu jolted upright, heart pounding.
Joy rounded the corner, wild-eyed, her curls bouncing, until she froze mid-step. Her lips parted, confusion and disbelief halting her frantic momentum.
There Yu sat at the table—his small frame loose, cheeks faintly flushed, looking far too at ease for someone she'd feared she lost. And across the room, Adrian Cross—towering, sleeves rolled up, tattooed arms on full display as he scrambled and fumbled over a pan, clearly out of his depth, clearly cooking.
For a beat, the scene held perfectly still. The domestic normalcy clashed violently with Joy's frantic worry.
"...What—"
She breathed, blinking at the tableau as though she'd stepped into the wrong house.
Yu's lips twitched into an awkward half-smile, his hand instinctively drifting to his belly.
Adrian, caught red-handed, muttered another curse under his breath and nearly dropped the spatula.
"Fuck… Uh—b-breakfast. I'm… making breakfast…"
He said stiffly, as if that explained anything at all.
The sizzling pan popped, and Yu felt the moment fracture.
Joy's shock lasted only a heartbeat before it ignited into fury.
"You—!"
She snapped, jabbing a finger at Adrian like her hand itself was a weapon.
"What the hell are you doing here with him? After everything you've pulled? After you nearly got him and the babies killed?! And now you're—"
Her voice cracked, almost shrill.
"—now you're standing in his kitchen playing house?!"
Adrian froze mid-motion, spatula hovering over the pan. His jaw clenched, tattoos shifting with the ripple of his tightening muscles. He didn't answer, didn't defend himself—just flicked his gaze briefly to Yu, then back down at the eggs sputtering in the pan.
Yu's heart hammered. He winced at Joy's tone, but when he saw Adrian's stiff shoulders and Joy's trembling frame, he felt the weight of the tension pressing on his chest.
'This could spiral… I can't let it spiral.'
"Joy…"
Yu said softly, fragile but clear. He tugged at the hem of her sleeve until she looked at him. His lips curved into a tired smile, his voice warm but teasing as he tried to make it light, normal.
"Don't yell at the cook. You'll ruin breakfast before I even get to eat it."
Her fury faltered.
Joy blinked down at him, tears still burning behind her eyes, and exhaled a sharp, shaky breath. She softened, but only for him.
"…You're impossible, you spoiled hen."
She muttered, brushing his bangs back from his forehead before sliding into the chair right beside him, her body angled like a human shield.
Adrian flicked a glance at her, then back at the stove, silent but seething beneath the surface.
Joy pulled out her phone with hands that still trembled.
"Fine. But if he so much as breathes wrong, I'll—"
She cut herself off, hitting dial. Her voice lowered, taut but steady, as she whispered into the receiver.
"It's fine. Stand down. Call it off."
Yu tilted his head, confused, his hazel eyes widening.
"Call what off?"
The corner of Joy's lip quirked as she snapped her phone shut.
"Nothing you need to worry about."
But Adrian's eyes narrowed like knives, catching every note in her tone. He didn't call her out. He didn't need to. His silence, and the dangerous way his gaze lingered on her phone, said enough. He knew for who those kinds of orders are meant; men with badges on standby. Still, he turned back to the stove, his broad back a deliberate wall, his spatula moving as if cooking were the only battlefield that mattered now.
The air was thick, fragile, and Yu could feel every heartbeat of it.