A Heart Caught In Crime

Chapter 22 - New Beginnings

The early morning sun streamed through the windows of our Manhattan mansion, casting long shadows across the half-packed boxes littering the floor. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, coffee in hand, watching the city below come to life. It was a view I'd grown accustomed to over the years, but today, it felt different. Today, it felt like goodbye.

Natasha's reflection appeared beside mine in the glass, her arms wrapping around my waist from behind. At six months pregnant, her bump was becoming more pronounced every day.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Lovius?" she murmured, her Southern drawl still thick with sleep.

I turned, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Just thinking about how much is about to change, Mrs. Almost-Lovius."

She laughed, the sound warming me more than any coffee ever could. "Cold feet?"

I shook my head firmly. "Not a chance. You and Rhydian are the best things that have ever happened to me. I can't wait to start our new life."

The past month had been a whirlwind of preparations. Telling my associates that I was leaving the family business had been... interesting, to say the least. Some understood, others felt betrayed. But with my father's backing, the transition had been smoother than I'd dared hope.

Natasha had thrown herself into planning for the move with her typical enthusiasm. She'd been in constant contact with the interior designer we'd hired in Denver, coordinating everything from paint colors to furniture. It was a side of her I'd never fully appreciated before - the organizational skills she'd honed running her family's B&B back in Georgia were proving invaluable.

A knock at the door interrupted our moment. "That'll be the movers," I said, reluctantly releasing Natasha.

The next few hours passed in a blur of activity. Movers efficiently packed up our life, loading box after box onto their truck. It was strange, seeing our home of the past few years slowly emptied out.

As the last box was carried out, Natasha and I stood in the empty living room, hand in hand.

"Ready for this?" I asked, squeezing her hand gently.

She nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and tears. "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's go say goodbye to your family."

The drive to my parents' estate was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts. As we pulled up the long driveway, I saw my entire family gathered on the front steps. My throat tightened at the sight.

My mother was the first to reach us as we got out of the car, pulling us both into a tight embrace. "Oh, my darlings," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "We're going to miss you so much."

"We'll visit, Ma," I promised, feeling like a little boy again in her arms. "And you'll come see us in Denver. Often."

My father approached next, his usually stern face softened with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "Son," he said, clasping my shoulder. "I'm proud of you. Remember that."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

We spent the next hour with my family, sharing one last meal together before our departure. There were tears and laughter, promises to visit and to call often. My sister not even around.

As we prepared to leave, my father pulled me aside. "Christian," he said, his voice low. "I want you to know... the door is always open. If you ever need anything - anything at all - you call. Understand?"

I nodded, understanding the weight of what he was offering. "Thank you, Dad. For everything."

The goodbye was harder than I'd anticipated. As we drove away, Natasha's hand in mine, I felt a complex mix of emotions - sadness at what we were leaving behind, excitement for what lay ahead, and an overwhelming sense of love for the woman beside me and the daughter growing within her.

Our flight to Denver was uneventful, Natasha dozing against my shoulder for most of the journey. As we began our descent, she stirred, looking out the window at the sprawling city below us.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "Look at those mountains!"

I smiled, her excitement infectious. "Wait until you see our new home."

The drive from the airport to our new house felt surreal. The wide, tree-lined streets of our new neighborhood were a far cry from the bustling avenues of Manhattan. As we pulled into the driveway of our new home, I heard Natasha's sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, Christian," she breathed. "It's even more beautiful than in the pictures."

I helped her out of the car, both of us standing for a moment to take in the sight of our new home. The late afternoon sun bathed the house in a warm glow, making the red brick exterior look almost golden.

"Welcome home, mia cara," I said softly, wrapping an arm around her waist.

We spent the rest of the evening exploring our new house. The moving company had already delivered and unpacked most of our belongings, and the interior designer had worked miracles in making the space feel like home.

Natasha's eyes lit up as we entered the nursery. The walls were painted a soft green, with a mural of a whimsical forest scene on one wall. A beautiful wooden crib stood in the center of the room, a mobile of stars and moons hanging above it.

"It's perfect," she whispered, her hands resting on her bump. "Rhydian's going to love it."

Later that night, as we lay in our new bed, the unfamiliar sounds of suburban night around us, I found myself wide awake. Natasha was curled against my side, one hand resting protectively over her stomach.

I thought about the life we were leaving behind - the power, the danger, the constant vigilance. And I thought about the life ahead of us - quiet mornings in this beautiful house, watching our daughter grow, building a future based on love rather than fear.

As if sensing my thoughts, Natasha stirred. "Can't sleep?" she murmured.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching mine in the dim light. "Any regrets?"

I shook my head, pulling her closer. "Not a single one. You and Rhydian are all I need."

The next few weeks passed in a blur of settling in and preparations for Rhydian's arrival. We explored our new neighborhood, finding favorite coffee shops and parks. Natasha threw herself into decorating the house, adding personal touches that made it truly feel like ours.

I found myself enjoying the simple pleasures of suburban life - mowing the lawn, grilling in the backyard, chatting with neighbors over the fence. It was a world away from my former life, and I loved every minute of it.

One evening, as we sat on our back porch watching the sunset, Natasha suddenly gasped, her hand flying to her stomach.

"Christian," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Give me your hand."

I placed my hand on her bump, confusion turning to awe as I felt a strong kick against my palm.

"Is that...?" I breathed, unable to finish the sentence.

Natasha nodded, happy tears in her eyes. "That's our little girl. That's Rhydian."

In that moment, as I felt my daughter move beneath my hand, everything crystallized. This was why we'd left New York. This was why I'd walked away from the family business. For this - for quiet evenings on the porch, for the freedom to raise our daughter in peace, for the chance to be the kind of father I'd always wished I had.

"I love you," I said, looking into Natasha's eyes. "Both of you. More than I ever thought possible."

She leaned in, kissing me softly. "We love you too, Christian. So much."

As the stars began to appear in the darkening sky, I held Natasha close, feeling Rhydian's occasional kicks against my side. The future stretched out before us, full of promise and possibility.

We were no longer the Mafia prince and the Georgia peach. We were just Christian and Natasha, soon-to-be parents, building a life filled with love and hope.

And for the first time in my life, I felt truly, completely at peace.