POV: Jasmine
The news came three days later: Jackson was leaving the city.
"Board meeting concluded," his assistant informed the brothers via speakerphone, her voice crisp and professional. "Mr. Blackwood Senior has decided to oversee the European expansion personally. He'll be departing tonight."
I sat on the couch in Liam's villa, watching relief wash over all three brothers like a physical wave. Finn's shoulders dropped. Asher uncrossed his arms for the first time in hours. Liam let out a breath he'd probably been holding for three days.
Jackson gone meant safety. Freedom. Space to plan for the baby without his interference, his threats, his poison seeping into every conversation.
"Thank fucking God," Finn muttered, collapsing into an armchair. "I was starting to think he'd moved into the building permanently, like some kind of corporate vampire."
But I watched Liam's face, saw the calculation behind the relief. He knew his father better than anyone. Knew that Jackson Blackwood didn't retreat—he repositioned.
"He's regrouping," Asher said, voicing what we were all thinking. His tone was flat, grumpy, characteristically pessimistic. "Planning his next move from a distance where we can't see it coming."
"Let him plan." My voice came out tired but determined. I pressed a hand against my stomach—still flat, no visible evidence of the chaos currently reorganizing my entire existence. "We have more important things to focus on."
"She's right." Liam crossed to sit beside me, his hand finding mine with that automatic protectiveness I'd come to rely on. "My father's schemes can wait. Right now, we celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" Finn raised an eyebrow. "The temporary absence of Satan?"
"The fact that we're going to be parents." Liam's voice warmed, that golden retriever enthusiasm breaking through the tension. "All of us. Together. That's worth celebrating, don't you think?"
They threw together a farewell dinner that was actually a celebration—the first genuine celebration in months. Nora arrived with two bottles of champagne and one bottle of sparkling cider.
"For the pregnant lady," she announced, pressing the cider into my hands. "Because someone has to stay sober enough to remember whatever embarrassing shit these three do tonight."
"You're assuming I need alcohol to be embarrassing," Finn said, already reaching for a champagne flute. "That's insulting, honestly."
"Boy, you're embarrassing stone-cold sober." Nora shot back. "The alcohol just gives you an excuse."
Leo showed up an hour later with flowers for me—sunflowers, my favorite, wrapped in brown paper like he'd picked them up from a street vendor on his way over.
"Thought you could use something bright," he said, pulling me into a hug that lasted longer than usual. "You know. Given everything."
"Thank you." I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of my brother. He smelled like hay and horses now—evidence of his time at the farm, the life he'd built away from me. But he was here. That mattered more than anything.
The evening unfolded in warmth and laughter. Nora and Finn got into a drinking game that ended with both of them attempting to teach Leo how to salsa dance in the living room. Asher watched from the corner, nursing a single whiskey, his expression hovering somewhere between exasperated and secretly amused.
And Liam stayed close to me all night—refilling my cider, bringing me food, making sure I had a comfortable seat. Attentive without being suffocating. Present without demanding attention.
For one evening, the storm clouds parted. No Jackson. No ultimatums. No impossible choices looming on the horizon. Just family—the strange, unconventional, imperfect family we were building together.
Later, after the others had gone and the villa had settled into peaceful quiet, I found myself alone with Liam on the balcony. The city spread out below us, glittering with a million lights, indifferent to the complicated lives being lived in its shadow.
My hand drifted to my stomach again. I couldn't seem to stop touching it, checking, confirming that this was real.
"I want to do a DNA test," I said quietly.
Liam turned to look at me, surprise flickering across his features. "I thought we agreed it doesn't matter—"
"I know what we agreed." I met his eyes, forcing myself to hold the contact. "But I need to know. For medical history, for the baby's records, for my own peace of mind." I paused, searching for words that wouldn't sound like doubt. "It's not about choosing one of you over the others. It's about having information. About not building our entire future on a question mark."
Liam was quiet for a long moment. The breeze stirred his hair, and I watched him process—watched him fight whatever instinct was telling him that knowing might change things.
"Then we'll do one," he said finally.
"And if it's not yours?" The question I'd been afraid to ask, finally spoken aloud. "If the baby belongs to Asher or Finn?"
Liam cupped my face with both hands, tilting my chin up so I couldn't look away. His green eyes were steady, certain, blazing with something that made my chest ache.
"Then I'll be the best uncle in the world while still being a father," he said. "Biology doesn't determine love, Jasmine. Choice does. I chose you. I chose this. Some test result doesn't change that."
"You mean that."
"I've never meant anything more." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Whoever's DNA that baby carries, they're going to have three men who love them completely. Three men who will show up, protect them, teach them, embarrass them at school events. The test just tells us whose genes they got. It doesn't tell us who their family is."
I felt tears prick my eyes—hormones, probably, but also something deeper. This man, with his relentless optimism and his fierce protective love, choosing me again and again.
"The others might not feel the same way," I whispered.
"They will." Absolute certainty in his voice. "Finn jokes about everything, but he's already picked out baby names—don't tell him I told you. And Asher's been researching pediatricians for a week. They're all in, Jasmine. The test won't change that."
I kissed him then—soft, grateful, full of emotions I couldn't quite name. He pulled me close, careful of my stomach even though there was nothing to be careful of yet, and held me like I was something precious.
The next morning, we scheduled the DNA test for all three brothers—cheek swabs sent to a private lab, discretion guaranteed, results expected within a week.
Seven days to discover which of them shared blood with the child growing inside me.