The car screeched to a violent stop in front of the building. Lucas didn’t wait. He flung the door open even before the vehicle had fully halted and bolted toward the entrance, his shoes pounding against the pavement. A guard called out his name, startled by the sudden arrival, but Lucas didn’t slow. He barely registered the world around him. All he could think about was Rhea.
He slammed the elevator button with trembling fingers. The light blinked back at him, maddeningly slow.
Come on. Come on!
Each second dragged like an eternity. His heart pounded in his chest, a rapid, painful rhythm that matched the chaos in his head. He was consumed by images of Rhea—her laughter, her cries, the way her body crumpled when she clutched her stomach. The panic rising in his throat nearly choked him.
Please let her be okay. Please… both of them.
The elevator finally arrived with a soft ding. Lucas rushed inside and stood rigidly as the doors closed. He paced, unable to stand still, his fists opening and closing restlessly. The hum of the elevator was a whisper compared to the roar in his mind.
When the doors slid open, he sprinted down the hallway like a man possessed. The door to his unit was ajar. Dread coiled in his chest.
He pushed it open.
The sight that met him nearly shattered him. Rhea, his wife, her body trembling in silent sobs, arms tightly wrapped around Rave. Her face was buried against their friend’s shoulder, as if seeking refuge.
Without thinking, Lucas stormed forward and yanked her away from Rave, wrapping her in his arms as though shielding her from the world. She gasped at first, then clutched him tighter, her sobs erupting louder now. Her body curled into his, and it was all the confirmation he needed; she knew it was him.
“I’m here now,” Lucas whispered against her hair, gently rocking her as he held her. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
His voice was hoarse, his throat tight with emotion. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself, to calm the storm raging inside him.
Then his gaze swept across the room, still holding Rhea close. His friends stood there in silence, their eyes filled with worry and rage. But it was the sight of Cristoff that made Lucas’s blood boil. The man lay unconscious on the floor, wrists bound tightly behind him, a dark bruise forming on his jaw.
A savage fury surged through Lucas. He carefully loosened his hold on Rhea and gently eased her onto the couch. Then he stood and advanced toward Cristoff with clenched fists and fire in his eyes.
He didn’t care who was watching. All he saw was red.
But before he could reach Cristoff’s limp form, Ruffa quickly stepped between them.
“Move,” he snarled. “I swear to God, Ruffa, if you don’t move—”
“You need to calm down,” he said firmly, blocking his path. “He’s already unconscious. Rave beat him to a pulp. Look at him.”
“I don’t care!” Lucas roared. “That bastard tried to touch my wife! He fucking touched her! He deserves more than this!”
“Lucas,” Ruffa said quietly but with force, “Rhea is watching you. Do you want her to see you like this? Covered in blood? Do you think she needs that right now?”
He froze. His breathing was ragged.
Kaley stepped in from the side. “Let the authorities handle it. That’s what justice is for.”
Rave, still panting from the earlier scuffle, added, “You should be with Ri, not wasting time on this trash.”
Lucas turned to glance at Rhea, who was curled up on the couch, trembling, her eyes on him. She gave a slight shake of her head, a silent plea for peace. His shoulders slumped. The rage didn’t leave, but he could no longer act on it. With a bitter sigh, he stepped back and returned to her. He knelt beside the couch, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her face.
“Are you alright?” he asked gently.
Her voice was barely audible. “I want to go home.”
He nodded.
Turning to his friends, he gave them a grateful, silent glance. They understood.
“I’ll take her now,” Lucas said. “Thank you for everything.”
With utmost care, he helped Rhea to her feet and led her out of the condo, keeping her close. He didn’t let go, not even for a second.
They drove straight to the Benitez residence, the quiet home she had shared with her mother. Lucas brought her inside and guided her to the bedroom. She was drained, physically and emotionally, and he knew what she needed most was rest. He helped her settle beneath the sheets and stayed until her breathing steadied.
Then he stood and walked out to the terrace, his face unreadable under the glow of the night. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.
“Hello, Sir? Mr. Villareal?” came the calm voice on the other end.
Lucas’s voice was ice. “There’s a man who tried to touch my wife.”
A pause.
“I need you to handle it.”
“The usual?”
“Yes,” Lucas replied. “Cristoff Dane. Make sure he ends up in prison. But not before he understands exactly what it means to cross me. I want him to feel it. Every second of it.”
“Understood, Sir. It will be done.”
Lucas ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. Only then did he return inside, eyes dark, jaw clenched. The war inside him was far from over. But for tonight, Rhea was safe. And he would make sure no one ever hurt her again.
The world had continued turning, the seasons changing one after another, yet the memory of that night remained etched in Rhea's mind like a scar that refused to fade. Time had softened the edges of her pain, allowing life to ease into a quieter rhythm. Her days were now filled with gentle routines — helping her mother through her slow but steady recovery, tending to the simple things that once overwhelmed her, and allowing herself to heal, inch by inch.
Lucas had kept his promise. Since the night he found her again, he had never once left her side. He had been there through the silence and the tears, through the sleepless nights and tentative smiles. In the stillness between their words, trust had begun to bloom again. Fragile, yes — but real. And now, with the rhythm of life slowly stabilizing, Rhea found herself in a place she had never imagined reaching.
She was lying on a padded bed inside a quiet, sunlit examination room, her heart pounding as Dra. Rachelle moved the ultrasound wand gently across her lower belly. The cool gel sent a shiver up her spine, but it was the anticipation that truly made her breath catch.
“Look closely,” Dra. Rachelle said, her voice calm and reassuring.
Rhea’s eyes locked onto the monitor. Her breath was caught halfway in her throat. Her fingers gripped the edge of the examination bed as if bracing for something life-changing — and then it happened. The room filled with a sound so soft yet so profound that it silenced every thought in her mind.
A heartbeat.
Fast. Steady. Alive.
“There,” the doctor smiled warmly. “That’s your baby.”
Tears sprang to Rhea’s eyes as she watched the tiny flicker on the screen, the unmistakable rhythm of life echoing through the quiet room. Her lips parted in awe as her chest swelled with emotion. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain of the past. For a moment, all of it melted away. All that remained was this new life growing inside her, anchoring her to a future she had once feared to dream of.
Lucas stood by her side, holding her hand. His grip tightened as the doctor continued.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Villarreal,” Dra. Rachelle beamed. “You’re having a baby boy. Just continue taking the vitamins I prescribed to keep him healthy and to ensure a smooth delivery.”
“A baby boy?” Lucas repeated, his voice cracking with disbelief. He laughed, breathless and overcome. “A boy. Someone’s going to call me Dad.”
He turned to Rhea, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with wonder and gratitude.
Rhea blinked back her tears, her gaze fixed on the man who had once been only a stranger in her story. A man she married for reasons that had nothing to do with love. And yet, here he was, holding her like she was his world. A father to their son. Her husband, not by arrangement, but by something deeper, something earned. She never imagined she would become his wife, let alone the mother of his child.
This was no longer just a continuation. It was a beginning. Silently, Rhea sent a prayer of thanks to the heavens above. After their appointment, Lucas was already buzzing with energy. He could hardly contain his excitement.
“Hurry! We need to shop for baby stuff! Good thing we already finished renovating his room,” he said, practically dragging her out of the clinic.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rhea said sincerely before they stepped outside.