Page 113 of The Price Of Betrayal

From the villa, barefoot, a loose white shirt open at the chest. He set down a plate of tropical fruit beside her and leaned in to steal a kiss.

“Maybe it does,” she murmured against his lips.

He sat beside her, pulling her legs across his lap, and watched the kids play with a contentment she’d never seen on hisface before. “This,” Kylee whispered, scanning the horizon, “is everything I never thought I could have.”

Rio brushed his thumb over her ankle, eyes locked on her. “It’s only the beginning, Kylee. I promised you forever… and I meant it.”

For the first time in years, Kylee wasn’t haunted by her past. She didn’t feel broken. She felt whole. Loved. Cherished. Free. As the sun began to dip low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink, Kylee closed her eyes and let the sound of her children’s laughter and the rhythm of the waves carry her into the life she always deserved.

The villa buzzed every morning with a rhythm Kylee had grown to adore. Rio had transformed one wing of the vacation house into a schoolroom just for the kids: polished mahogany desks, walls lined with maps and bookshelves, a sleek whiteboard, and even a globe that lit up at night.

A private tutor flew in weekly, but Rio often slipped in during lessons, pretending to be “just checking in,” only to end up helping Jake Jr. with math or listening intently while Macy read out loud.

For a man who once swore he’d never be tied down, Rio wore fatherhood like he’d been preparing for it all along. He cracked jokes over breakfast, dove into the pool with Macy and Kayla until their shrieks of laughter echoed through the villa, and let Jake Jr. shadow him during workouts, building the boy’s confidence.

Kylee would watch them sometimes Rio with a kid on each arm, splashing in the surf or roasting marshmallows at sunset andher chest would ache. Not with sadness, but with a joy so sharp it almost frightened her. The kids never asked about Jake. Not once. It was as if they’d instinctively chosen to let Rio fill the role their father had so carelessly shattered.

And Rio…he was rocking this life. For all his tattoos, stage swagger, and raw edge, he had become her anchor. The man who had picked up her broken pieces and built something better. Something stronger.But happiness had a way of stirring old fears.

That night, after the kids had gone to bed and Rio had slipped into the studio to play with a new riff, Kylee found herself pacing the master bathroom. Her hands Trembled as she tore open the small pink box she’d hidden under the sink.

Her heart pounded. She hadn’t told Rio about the missed cycle, the creeping suspicion that her body was different, alive with a secret it hadn’t shared yet.

She set the test down on the counter, the seconds dragging like hours as the world outside carried on waves lapping the shore, Rio’s guitar echoing faintly from the studio.

Finally, she dared to look.

Two red lines.

Clear.

Bold.

Unmistakable.