The days on the island had taken on a strange, almost sacred rhythm. Mornings were quiet soft light filtering through the floor to ceiling windows, the distant sound of waves, and Daddy’s steady breathing beside me. I would wake up before him sometimes, lying still with my hand on my growing belly, feeling the baby move. Each kick was both a comfort and a chain, anchoring me deeper into this life I had chosen.

Today was no different.

I slipped out of bed carefully, the new rose-gold collar cool against my skin. I walked to the balcony in my silk robe, the fabric whispering against my legs. The ocean stretched...