LOVE'S QUAGMIRE [18+]

Chapter 56: Adrian

Zephyr's POV~

The chauffeur opened the door, and I slid into the car, frustration boiling under my skin. These useless bastards couldn't even manage a handful of clients at the company, and now I had to waste six hours cleaning up their mess—six hours I could've used to catch him.

Leaning back against the seat, I shut my eyes, letting the silence of the car calm me—at least for a moment. My thoughts wandered, as they always did, to Daphne.

What would she be doing right now? Is she resting like I told her to? Or sneaking around the kitchen for something sweet again?

I chuckled and pulled out my phone, and the sight of her as my wallpaper softened the edge of my frustration. A small smile tugged at my lips as I stared at her picture.

 She was my peace, the only person who could make me feel like this. Like maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't so goddamn chaotic.

And then my phone rang, snapping me out of the moment. Her face was covered by the caller ID, and I let out a low groan, already irritated before I even answered.

"Who is it?" I barked, irritation lacing my tone as I snatched the phone to my ear. On the other end, a hesitant voice stammered, "H-Hello, a-am I speaking to Mr. Zephyr?"

I hummed in acknowledgment as the woman continued, "S-Sir, I'm calling from 'Giggles' regarding your order—a custom baby cot and several other baby items, all designed according to your specifications."

"Go on," I muttered, my voice sharp but steady.

"Would you like us to arrange the delivery?" she asked cautiously.

"You followed every customization?" 

"Y-Yes, sir," she stammered. "Everything is exactly as per your request. If there's anything else you'd like, we can still make adjustments."

"Is everything in blue?" I pressed. "And about the room?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, a bit more confidently. "The items are all in shades of blue, just like you wanted. As for the room, all the furniture is ready, but the final coat of blue paint and some adjustments will be completed by evening."

"Good. Send me the bill. I'll handle the payment," I said curtly.

"Of course, sir. Thank you for your time. Have a wonderful day," she replied, her voice almost trembling with relief.

I ended the call without another word, my mind already racing back to thoughts of my wife and the little one we were preparing for.

As I hung up, a rush of satisfaction settled over me. Blue everything—crib, blankets, even the little mobile over the crib that spins with all those animals I picked out myself. It's all coming together, just like I wanted. 

Only two more trimesters, but hell, it feels like too long. I want my little guy here, in his room, in that crib, safe and wrapped up in all the things I got just for him.

I tap my fingers on the handrest, thinking about how I practically mapped out every inch of that room. I made sure each detail was perfect. No cutting corners, no compromises. Everything in that room has my touch on it—soft, safe, and exactly right for my boy and for her. 

My wife, sitting back there at home, thinking I just went a little 'overboard.'  Overboard? Nah, this is how it's supposed to be.

Every day, it's like I'm counting down, making sure I don't miss a single moment. It's crazy, but I don't want to leave her alone for too long, not with everything she's carrying. That's my son in there, and she's got to feel how much this means, how much I've got their backs. Every damn minute, I'm making sure they're safe, comfortable, surrounded by what I know is best for them.