The guest wing of the Serrano estate was quiet, almost too quiet for Mira. She stood inside the spacious room Cassian had chosen for her, the soft cream drapes pulled aside just enough to let evening sunlight spill across the polished floor. The room felt luxurious, far more than she needed, yet none of it eased the nervous pressure in her chest.
Cassian stepped in behind her, his expression composed as always, though Mira noticed how he kept his hands tucked behind his back, as if he wasn't sure where to put them around her anymore.
"I had the staff prepare this for you," he said gently. "If anything feels too big, too cold, or… too much, tell me. I'll have it changed."
Mira turned to him, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "Cassian… I didn't expect all this."
"You shouldn't have to worry about comfort right now," he replied. His voice was low, steady. "I asked Luisa to prepare specific meals for you, nothing heavy, foods that'll settle well. She'll check in before dinner."
Mira blinked, genuinely surprised. "That's… thoughtful."
"Well," he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm trying."
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence wasn't cold, just full. Full of things neither had figured out how to say.
Cassian finally walked toward the window, looking out at the estate grounds as if gathering courage. "Mira," he started, "about that night…"
Her heart stuttered, each beat heavy in her throat. She waited.
He didn't turn around yet. "It was unexpected. For both of us. A moment neither planned." His fingers tightened slightly on the window edge. "And a mistake… maybe. But a mistake we both made."
Mira's breath hitched, not in anger, but in the strange sting of honesty.
He turned back to her then, his expression softer than his words. "But don't misunderstand. I don't mean you were a mistake. Or that this-" he gestured loosely, meaning her pregnancy, their situation, all of it, "..is something I intend to walk away from."
She looked down at her hands. "So what do you mean?"
Cassian stepped closer, slow and deliberate, stopping only when he was close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. "I mean," he said quietly, "that you take care of the life inside you… and I'll take care of you both."
Mira's eyes lifted to his, startled. "Cassian…"
"I won't pretend things aren't complicated," he admitted, a faint tension pulling at his jaw. "My family is dealing with the scandal. I'm trying to keep the press out of your name as much as possible. There's pressure, meetings, damage control, but none of that is your burden."
"And you?" she whispered. "It is yours."
"It won't touch you."
His certainty made her chest warm in a way she wasn't ready to name.
He let out a slow breath. "You don't have to trust me completely… not yet. But trust that I'll try. And trust that what happened, however messy, isn't something I'll shove onto your shoulders alone."
Mira nodded slowly, her voice faint. "I don't want to do this alone."
"You won't." His voice softened even more. "Not for a single day."
Her throat tightened, tears threatening but not falling. "Thank you. For the room, for the food… for everything."
Cassian hesitated, then reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that surprised even him. "You don't need to thank me." His hand lingered for a second before he pulled it back. "Rest. If you need anything, I'm in the study across the hall."
She watched him leave, the door closing softly behind him. And for the first time since the pregnancy test, Mira allowed herself to sit on the bed and breathe,really breathe, knowing she wasn't facing this alone.
When the door clicked shut behind Cassian, Mira sat still for a long moment, letting the quiet settle around her. The room felt too large, too elegant, almost unreal. A soft sigh escaped her as she finally rose, walking slowly around her new space.
Her fingertips trailed across the polished dresser, the carved edges of the bedside table, the expensive vase filled with fresh lilies. Everything here looked like it belonged in a luxury magazine, carefully chosen, impeccably arranged.
It was so unlike her own room back home, which was warm and full and alive, not curated like this.
She wandered to the wardrobe next and hesitated before opening it. Inside hung a few pieces, comfortable clothes in neutral colors, soft nightwear, even a new robe. All in her size. He must have had someone prepare it within hours.
That alone made her swallow tightly.
Why would he go this far?
She walked toward the bathroom. The marble counters gleamed, a set of new skincare bottles lined neatly at the sink, and folded towels were stacked with crisp precision. A small note sat beside the mirror, written in Cassian's neat handwriting.
If anything irritates your skin, tell me.
Mira stared at the note longer than necessary.
"He shouldn't be this…" she whispered to herself. "This gentle."
She leaned against the cool marble and closed her eyes. Cassian Serrano was the last person who should be fussing over her. The Serrano and Reyes families weren't open enemies, but rivals, always competing, always comparing, always aligning opposite sides in business discussions. She'd grown up hearing his name with a certain caution, a certain distance.
So why was he the one placing her comfort above his peace?
Why was he setting boundaries with one hand but building a shelter around her with the other?
Even if she was carrying his child… he could've handled this differently. Coldly. Formally. Legally. Like a man trying to avoid complications.
Instead he was… careful.
Protective.
Responsibility wasn't rare among powerful men, but kindness, genuine, intentional kindness, was.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, still flat, still unchanged on the outside but carrying a truth that had rearranged everything inside her. "Why won't you let me be on my own?" she whispered into the empty room. "Why try so hard when you could just walk away like everyone expects you to?"
The question echoed in her mind as she returned to the bed and lay back against the pillows. The ceiling above her was painted in soft tones, and yet her chest felt heavy with confusion.
Cassian Serrano, who had every reason to keep his distance, was the same man making sure her meals were tailored, her room perfect, her every need anticipated.
She turned onto her side, hugging a pillow close. "What are you doing, Cassian?" she murmured. "Why are you being so… good?"
There was no answer except the steady hum of the large, quiet room.
Her thoughts eventually softened, drifting between uncertainty and a strange warmth she didn't want to admit. She wasn't sure she trusted him, not fully. But she couldn't deny there was comfort in knowing he was right across the hall, awake, caring, trying.
For the first time in days, Mira's eyes slowly fluttered shut, allowing sleep to claim her.