The Punishing Demon's Tears
All the words in the world became meaningless in that exact moment. No grand speech, no billion-dollar contract could compare to the five words she had just spoken.
Alejandro didn't say a single word. The legs that had stood firm against every enemy suddenly lost all their strength. He dropped down, falling to his knees on the soft rug right in front of her.
He pressed his ear against her stomach, listening to a sacred silence. His large hands—hands that had wielded guns, that had signed ruthless takeover contracts, that had crushed the hopes of his enemies—were now trembling as they embraced his wife's slender waist.
And then, he cried.
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For the first time since finding her in that underground bunker, Alejandro Castillo sobbed like a child. His hot tears soaked through the silk of Elena's robe.
A life. A miracle. This child would not be born into hatred. It would not have to bear the dark secrets and brutal lies of the previous generation. It would only know love. And light.
