A Heart Caught In Crime

Chapter 19 - Tokyo Sunrise

The soft glow of dawn crept through the sheer curtains of our luxurious Tokyo hotel suite. I stirred, my hand instinctively moving to rest on my barely-there bump. A smile tugged at my lips as I thought about the tiny life growing inside me.

Christian's arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. Even in his sleep, he was protective. I turned carefully in his embrace, studying his face in the early morning light. The sharp angles of his jaw, usually set in determination, were softened in slumber. It was rare to see him so unguarded.

"Mornin', sugar," I whispered, my Georgian drawl more pronounced in the quiet of the room.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing those piercing green eyes that never failed to make my heart skip a beat. "Good morning, mia cara," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. The Italian endearment rolled off his tongue, a reminder of his heritage – and the world we'd be returning to.

I snuggled closer, savoring these last moments of peace before we'd have to face reality again. Our engagement and my pregnancy were joyous occasions, but they also complicated an already complex situation. The heir to one of New York's most powerful mafia families was about to have an heir of his own.

"What time's our flight?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. I'd triple-checked our itinerary the night before, a habit I'd developed growing up in my daddy's small-town Georgia bed and breakfast.

Christian glanced at the sleek watch on his wrist – a family heirloom that probably cost more than my entire hometown. "We've got a few hours yet. Plenty of time for room service and a shower."

I nodded, grateful for the unhurried morning. This trip to Tokyo had been a whirlwind – equal parts business for Christian and a babymoon for us. It felt like we'd barely had a moment to catch our breath since he'd slipped that stunning diamond ring on my finger just a few days ago.

As if reading my thoughts, Christian's hand found mine, his thumb brushing over the engagement ring. "Any regrets?" he asked softly.

I met his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there that he rarely showed to anyone else. "Not a single one," I assured him, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

Our relationship hadn't been easy. A Southern belle and a Mafia prince – we were from different worlds. But from the moment we'd met at that little bar in Little Italy, there had been an undeniable pull between us. It hadn't mattered that I was just a small-town girl trying to make it in the big city, or that he came from a family with a darker legacy than I could have imagined.

"I love you, Christian," I said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You, me, and this little one – we're family now."

His hand moved to rest on my stomach, a gesture that never failed to make my heart melt. "Family," he repeated, a mix of awe and determination in his voice.

We lay there for a while longer, talking quietly about nothing and everything. I shared my latest cravings pickles and peanut butter – much to Christian's amusement, while he told me about a potential new business venture he was considering. It was moments like these, just being together, that I treasured most.

Eventually, we dragged ourselves out of bed. Christian ordered a feast from room service while I hopped in the shower, letting the hot water soothe my travel-weary muscles. By the time I emerged, wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe, a spread fit for royalty awaited us.

"I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for," Christian said with a sheepish grin, gesturing to the array of Western and Japanese breakfast items.

I laughed, shaking my head fondly. "You're gonna spoil me rotten, you know that?"