Kidnapped - A Beautiful Blessing

Sasha stirred, her body heavy with exhaustion as she drifted back into wakefulness. The events of the previous night pressed against her chest like an invisible weight. Blinking away the lingering haze of sleep, she turned her head and found Damien nestled beside her, his tiny fingers curled into fists, his breath soft and even. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she reached out, brushing a stray wisp of dark hair from his forehead.

The lingering fear from the attack still gripped her. The thought of someone targeting her child sent an unbearable chill down her spine.

Needing reassurance, she shifted closer to Darius, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. His warm breath ghosted against her skin as he stirred, his lashes fluttering open. His gaze met hers, sharp yet laced with quiet concern.

"Who were they?" Her voice came out softer than she intended, but the urgency in her eyes made up for it. "Who did they want?"

Darius ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. "Their leader wasn't with them," he said, his voice edged with controlled anger. "It was just his men. I'll figure it out soon. But…" He exhaled slowly, his next words deliberate. "Maybe they were after our Dam."

Sasha's breath hitched. A sharp, ice-cold fear sliced through her, her chest tightening painfully. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Darius was already cupping her face, his thumb brushing away her tears with aching tenderness. "Sasha," he murmured, his voice low yet steady, "nothing will happen to him. We're here to protect him."

She swallowed hard, nodding, but the fear remained, an invisible shadow curling around her heart. Darius pressed soft kisses to both her eyes, a silent promise, then pulled her into his arms. She didn't hesitate—she buried her face in his shoulder, clutching onto him as a fresh wave of sobs broke free.

He held her tightly, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other rubbing soothing circles along her back. His warmth, his presence—everything about him was a shield, and yet the fear refused to fade.

A faint whimper broke through the tension.

Damien.

Sasha immediately pulled away, hastily wiping her damp cheeks as she turned to their son. His little face scrunched in distress, tiny fists flailing as he let out a weak, hungry cry.

She gathered him into her arms, her heart aching as she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Shh, my love," she whispered, rocking him gently before adjusting her saree and guiding him to her breast.

Darius watched silently, his hand resting on Damien's tiny fingers, tracing their delicate shape.

Sasha glanced up. "How's your arm?" she asked softly, her voice carrying quiet concern.

"Fine," he said, but she didn't miss the slight stiffness in the way he moved.

They didn't speak further. The room fell into a tranquil silence, the only sounds Damien's soft suckling and the steady rhythm of their breaths. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the three of them, holding onto each other in the aftermath of fear.

By the time Darius stepped into the shower, Sasha had already bathed and dressed. Damien, now well-fed, lay asleep in her arms. She gently patted his tiny head before carefully laying him on the bed, tucking the blanket around him.

Standing, she stretched slightly, rolling her shoulders as she picked up Darius's phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up instantly, displaying a new message.

**Samuel:** *Can I meet you today?*

She froze.

Her grip tightened around the device as her gaze lingered on the message.

**He really wanted to see her. He couldn't control his urge anymore.**

A cold unease settled over her. She knew what Samuel felt—she had known for a long time. Yet, she had never given him hope, never led him on. Still, the weight of his emotions pressed against her like an unspoken truth she didn't want to acknowledge.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Part of her wanted to ignore him. But then another thought crept in. If she met him—just once—perhaps it would settle things. And maybe, just maybe, it would also be the way for Darius to pay him back.

She took a deep breath.

**Sasha:** *Okay.*

The moment she sent the message, doubt gnawed at her.

She needed to tell Darius.

And she would—when he came out of the shower.

Darius emerged from the bathroom, a white towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water slid down his chiseled chest, tracing paths over his defined muscles before vanishing into the fabric. His damp hair clung to his forehead, stray strands falling into his dark eyes as he walked toward Sasha. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his warm, freshly showered body against hers.

Sasha, standing by the dresser, turned her head slightly, her lips curving into a smile as she looked at him. He smelled fresh—woodsy, clean, and intoxicatingly masculine.

Darius held out a smaller towel, his expression unreadable yet teasing. She took it, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion before rubbing it against her damp hair, gently drying the strands. Just as she finished, Darius smirked and suddenly shook his head, sending a light spray of water onto her face.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she playfully swatted his chest.

"Darius!" she scolded, her tone more amused than annoyed.

But before she could react further, his hands slipped around her waist, gripping her firmly before pulling her against him with an undeniable force. She barely had time to gasp before his lips were on hers, silencing any protest she might have had.

Darius kissed her with a hunger that stole her breath, his lips moving over hers in a deep, consuming rhythm. His fingers splayed across her back, pressing her flush against him as if he needed to feel every inch of her against him. Sasha melted into him, her arms sliding up to tangle in his damp hair.

The kiss grew heated, their breaths mingling in the space between stolen moments. Darius walked her backward until her back met the cool wall. His body caged her in, the warmth of his bare skin a stark contrast against the cold surface behind her.

Sasha arched into him instinctively, her body craving the closeness. Darius's tongue flicked against hers, demanding, teasing, and she tried to match his pace, her fingers tightening in his hair.

A soft moan escaped her lips as his hands slid over her waist, tugging at the hem of her nightgown. In one smooth motion, he lifted the fabric over her head and tossed it aside, baring her to him. His eyes darkened as they raked over her body, admiration and desire pooling in his gaze.

Without hesitation, he unwrapped his towel and let it fall.

Then, without warning, he lifted her effortlessly, his hands gripping her thighs as he pressed into her in one swift, unrelenting thrust.

Sasha gasped, her head falling back against the wall as pleasure surged through her. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in as her body adjusted to him.

"Darius—" His name left her lips in a broken whisper, laced with unfiltered pleasure.

He groaned, his breath hot against her neck. "You were saying something?" he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and need.

She could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond, as he moved within her, his pace deliberate yet intense. He held her securely, one of her legs wrapped around his waist, the other barely touching the floor as she balanced against him.

The rhythm of his thrusts grew urgent, each motion pulling her deeper into an abyss of sensation. Sasha let out a breathless whimper, tilting her head as he lowered his lips to her neck.

His free hand traced up her spine before cupping her throat in a gentle, possessive hold. He stroked the delicate skin there, soothing before tilting her head slightly, exposing more of her neck to him.

Then, without warning, he bit down lightly.

A sharp gasp escaped her as pleasure spiked through her nerves. The slight sting of his teeth was quickly followed by the warmth of his tongue as he licked the sensitive spot, then sucked gently, leaving a mark that sent a shiver down her spine.

The way her body responded to his touch made something primal flicker in his gaze.

Darius didn't stop.

Instead, he lifted her, keeping their connection intact as he carried her across the room. Sasha clung to him, her legs tightening around his waist as he maneuvered them toward the bed.

He lowered her onto the mattress, following her down without breaking their connection. His weight pressed her into the soft sheets, his hands sliding over her body as he began moving again, deeper this time, rougher.

Sasha gasped against his lips, meeting his thrusts eagerly, matching his rhythm.

She grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down for a searing kiss. Their mouths clashed, tongues tangling, as if the kiss itself was another form of claiming.

She nipped at his lower lip, and Darius groaned into her mouth.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, lost in the moment, lost in each other.

And when they finally stilled, tangled in each other's embrace, Darius remained inside her, his forehead resting against hers. Their breaths mingled, shallow and uneven, yet neither of them moved to part.

Sasha shivered, her hands still tangled in his hair, her body still attuned to his.

Sasha lay draped over Darius, her bare skin pressed against his warmth, her head resting on his chest. Their breaths had slowed, their bodies still tangled, the air thick with the remnants of their passion. She kept her eyes closed, savoring the quiet, the intimacy, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

But then, an unbidden thought surfaced—Samuel.

Her eyes fluttered open, the warmth of the moment fading just slightly. Biting her lip, she hesitated before lifting her hand and brushing her fingers over Darius's jaw. His skin was warm beneath her touch, his features relaxed in the afterglow.

"Darius," she murmured softly.

He made a low, contented sound in response, his eyes still closed. But when he felt her lingering touch, he opened them, dark irises meeting hers with a quiet intensity.

Sasha hesitated for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Samuel messaged me," she said, watching his expression carefully.

Darius's brows twitched slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"He asked if he could come over," she admitted. "I told him he could." She paused, glancing away before gathering the courage to say what was truly on her mind. "I had told you before—he helped me when I was struggling. He lent me money." Her voice softened. "I know he must have saved that money for himself, but he gave it to me without hesitation. I want you to give it back to him."

Darius's body tensed slightly beneath her. His hand, which had been resting on her waist, traced slow circles against her skin, but his voice remained neutral. "Is he not in love with you?"

Sasha sighed, already anticipating his reaction. She nodded but quickly added, "Yes, but I never loved him. Not even once. I never saw him that way, Darius."

His expression didn't change, but she could feel the subtle shift in his presence—something unreadable flickering in his dark gaze.

"He used to bother me a lot," she admitted, running a hand through her hair as she thought back. "Always hovering, always looking for a chance. It irritated me."

Darius remained silent, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her back.

"But," she continued, her voice softer now, "he wasn't all bad. Maybe he just didn't want me to worry when I was already struggling. He was… nice, in his way. He helped when I needed it. I suppose he thought he was doing the right thing."

Darius finally exhaled, his face still unreadable. Then, after a moment, he asked, "When is he coming?"

Sasha blinked, slightly surprised by his calmness. She glanced at the bedside clock.

"What's the time?" she asked.

"Twelve," he replied, his voice low and deep.

"Then… maybe around two or three in the afternoon," she said, watching him closely.

Darius gave a small nod, Sasha studied him for a moment longer before sighing and resting her head back against his chest.

Samuel adjusted his collar, his hands trembling slightly—whether from nervousness or something deeper, he wasn't sure. He took a steadying breath and glanced at his reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing himself as if searching for reassurance. A simple shirt and trousers—nothing special, yet somehow, they felt heavier today.

His fingers brushed against the small velvet box he had kept for so long. Inside lay the pendant he had once bought with the hope of proposing to her. But that dream had shattered long ago. Now, it was nothing more than a simple gift—at least, that's what he told himself. Deep down, he believed that some things were destined to reach the hands they were meant for, and this pendant, with all its unspoken emotions, was one of them.

The delicate piece shimmered under the dim light, much like she had once lit up his world. His love for her hadn't faded—it remained, lodged deep within him, a bittersweet ache that refused to wane. A sudden tightness gripped his throat, and before he could stop himself, his eyes burned with unshed tears. He quickly blinked them away. Today was the last time. After this, he would walk away. He had made up his mind.

Would he truly forget her? He didn't know. But if he couldn't, then he would carry her within him for the rest of his life.

With a deep inhale, he stepped out of his car, standing before the grand house. It was imposing, much like the man who owned it. The guards recognized him and, without hesitation, let him in. Darius had already given instructions to allow him entry.

He was escorted to the drawing room, where Sasha and Darius were already waiting. Darius held Damien securely in his arms, his stance effortlessly possessive, as if shielding both mother and son. Sasha looked at Samuel as he entered, her expression unreadable. He managed a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Steadying himself, he took out the box and held it out toward her.

"This is for you," Samuel said, his voice quieter than intended. Then, his gaze flickered to the baby in Darius's arms. A moment of realization struck him—he had only thought of Sasha when preparing the gift, not considering the child. His chest tightened.

"Sorry, Sasha, I… I forgot about the baby," he murmured.

Sasha shook her head lightly. "It's okay." She accepted the box, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

Samuel watched her hesitantly, hoping for some reaction. "I hope you like it," he said softly.

She met his gaze but remained silent, her expression indecipherable.

Darius, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his tone even yet firm. "I'm her husband—Darius Lemoine."

Samuel turned to him, nodding slightly. "Oh… hello. I'm Samuel. Sasha and I were together in school." He extended his hand out of habit, but realizing that Darius had not moved from his position—still holding Damien—he awkwardly pulled back, embarrassed.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Samuel shifted on his feet, not knowing what else to say.

Then, Darius broke the silence. "You lent Sasha money." He placed a blank cheque on the table between them. "Take this."

Sasha remained still, but she didn't protest.

Samuel stared at the cheque, his heart sinking. So this was it. A clean-cut severance. As if all the years, all the moments, had meant nothing. He had never expected anything in return, but this… This made it painfully clear that to Sasha, his help had been nothing more than a transaction.

He had told himself he would walk away without regrets, but something inside him cracked. For a fleeting second, he wanted to tell her—tell her how much she had meant to him, how deeply he had loved her, how much it hurt. But the words died in his throat. He swallowed it all.

Instead, masking the turmoil within, he asked, "Is the baby a girl or a boy?"

"Boy," Sasha answered simply.

Samuel nodded, forcing a small smile. "Can I see him?"

Darius lifted Damien slightly, allowing Samuel a clearer look. The baby was nestled in his father's arms, peaceful and unaware of the moment's weight. Samuel studied him for a second before chuckling softly.

"The baby is cute. If I were to write a poem about him, I'd need words that could capture his innocence and charm. But I don't think any words would do justice—his cuteness is beyond description."

Both Sasha and Darius looked at him, their expressions unreadable, as if he had spoken in a language neither of them understood. Realizing how out of place his words must have sounded, Samuel gave a small, nervous laugh.

He glanced at Sasha one last time before clearing his throat. "Alright, I should get going. I have… plans." It was a lie. He had no plans. He just wanted to leave before the ache in his chest grew unbearable.

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heels and walked out as quickly as he could. The moment he stepped outside, he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Sliding into his car, he gripped the steering wheel and just drove—no destination in mind, no thought of where he was heading. He only knew he had to keep moving. Because stopping meant thinking. And thinking meant feeling.

And right now, feeling was the last thing he wanted to do.

Samuel sat in silence, staring into the distance as waves crashed gently against the shore. His heart ached, a deep, hollow pain settling in his chest. A storm of emotions surged through him—frustration, sorrow, longing. It felt as if he had lost her forever.

But then, he questioned himself—had she ever been his to lose?

His fingers dug into the sand as he exhaled sharply. What was it about Darius that made Sasha love him so much? He was handsome, yes, but so was Samuel. Was it because Darius was powerful, a man who fought his way through life with strength and authority? Was that what she admired? A fighter?

Samuel clenched his fists. Maybe that was it—maybe she wanted someone who could match her. Sasha was strong, trained in martial arts, capable of defending herself. Maybe she wanted a man just like her—one who could fight alongside her. And he… he wasn't that man.

But wasn't love supposed to be more than that?

His heart twisted as he thought about the depth of his feelings for her. He would have respected her, cherished her, stayed by her side no matter what. He would have made every moment special for her if only she had given him a chance. If only she had looked at him the way she looked at Darius.

His jaw tightened as another thought struck him—Darius.

What kind of fighter was he, really? A man who couldn't even search for his pregnant wife when she was alone, abandoned? If it had been him in Darius's place, he would never have left Sasha, no matter how angry he was. No matter how much she pushed him away, he would have stayed, fought for her, reminded her that she wasn't alone.

And then, a vision flickered in his mind—something that could never be real.

Sasha stood before him, her dark eyes soft with warmth, a smile stretching across her lips. She reached for him, stepping closer, her gaze holding something he had never seen before—love.

"I'm in love with you, Samuel," she whispered, her voice filled with certainty. "Can I keep your heart forever in mine?"

His breath caught as he stared at her, disbelieving, but the glow in her eyes told him it was real. A slow, shaky smile spread across his lips before he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against hers. She melted into him, and when they pulled apart, she blushed, hiding her face against his chest.

His heart soared.

But then—

The road blurred into view. The vision shattered like glass, leaving nothing but empty reality in its wake. His fingers tightened around his steering wheel as he let out a deep, shaky breath.

It was just a dream. A cruel, impossible dream.

The truth was far different. The truth was painful.

As he drove past a quiet, lonely beach, he pulled over and stepped out, letting the cold wind rush against his face. The waves whispered secrets to the shore, uncaring of his heartbreak. He sat on the sand, watching the tide, his heart aching with every beat.

After a long moment, he pulled out his phone and typed a message.

**"Whatever moments I had with you, they will always be my best memories. You will always be in my heart."**

He stared at the words for a moment before hitting send.

Somewhere, across the distance, Sasha read his message.

She had always known that Samuel liked her, but she had never fully understood the depth of his love. And now, as she reread his words, realization dawned upon her. He loved her—truly, deeply, selflessly.

But perhaps… it was better this way.

She didn't reply.

Instead, she turned her gaze to the most important people in her life—Darius and Damien.

Darius sat on the couch, their son cradled in his arms, his features soft with an expression he reserved only for Damien. Sasha's heart swelled at the sight. She walked toward them, a gentle smile on her lips, and pressed a kiss against Damien's forehead.

"Mumma loves you, my Damien," she murmured, her voice tender.

Then, she lifted her gaze to Darius. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them. Without a word, she leaned forward and pecked his lips. When she pulled away, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

"And I love my Darius too," she whispered.

Darius's lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

She peeked over his shoulder, looking at Damien, who lay peacefully in his father's arms.

Darius chuckled, glancing down at their son. "He looks so much like me."

Sasha smirked, crossing her arms. "Why wouldn't he? I watched your videos too much."

Darius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Videos?"

She nodded with a playful pout. "I wanted him to look exactly like you, so I did."

A slow smirk formed on his lips. "Come here."

He was still holding Damien, so he couldn't pull her toward him as he normally would.

Sasha grinned mischievously. "No."

Before he could react, she turned on her heels and ran, laughing.

Darius narrowed his eyes, shifting Damien carefully. "You really think you can escape me, little troublemaker?"

Still holding Damien in one arm, he stood up and took a few quick steps after her. Sasha giggled, dodging him effortlessly.

Realizing he needed both hands to catch her, Darius swiftly placed Damien on the bed, making sure he was safe. The moment Damien was settled, Darius turned and bolted after Sasha.

She squealed, trying to escape, but her foot accidentally hit the leg of a table.

A sharp gasp left her lips as she stumbled, wincing in pain.

Before she could fall, Darius caught her effortlessly, his strong arms steadying her. His grip was firm, his gaze filled with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Always hurting yourself," he murmured, shaking his head.

Sasha pouted, still wincing. She tried to move away, but Darius didn't let her. Instead, he picked her up with ease and carried her to the bed.

As he sat her down, she glanced at her foot. It wasn't swollen or discolored—just a minor bump.

Darius knelt before her, gently touching her injured toe. The moment his fingers brushed against it, she flinched.

He sighed. "You're too reckless."

Before she could protest, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss against her toe.

Sasha's eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she stared at him.

Darius lifted his gaze, his lips curling into a smirk. "Surprised?"

She swallowed, her heart pounding. Then, a small, shy smile played on her lips.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Darius chuckled against her lips, his amusement melting into something deeper as the kiss grew more passionate.

Their tongues met, sending a dizzying rush through her body. She clutched his shoulders, her fingers curling into his shirt as warmth flooded through her.

He smiled against her lips before pulling her even closer, as if he never wanted to let her go.

And in that moment, Sasha knew—she was exactly where she belonged.

Forever.

Later, as Sasha sat with Lea, chatting softly, her gaze drifted toward the vase on the windowsill. Two roses from the garden still stood there, their petals slightly open, glowing in the golden light of the late afternoon. A tender smile touched her lips as she rose to her feet.

She reached for one of the roses, cradling it delicately between her fingers. Bringing it close, she pressed a gentle kiss to its soft petals before turning toward Damien, who lay nestled in his cradle, his tiny fists curled, his breathing steady.

Lowering herself beside him, she traced the rose along his chubby cheek, her voice no more than a whisper as she bent close to his ear.

"This is for you, my Dam," she murmured, her words a soft promise.

She placed the flower in his small palm, her fingers closing his tiny fist around it, as if sealing a vow—one of love, of devotion, of forever.

Just then, the sound of measured footsteps reached her ears. She turned and saw Darius entering the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His sharp eyes found hers immediately, curiosity flickering across his face.

Lowering his phone slightly, he arched a brow in silent question.

Sasha walked toward him, her steps light, almost unhurried. She lifted the remaining rose and extended it to him, her fingers brushing his as he took it.

Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Darius ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket, his brow still raised. He studied her with an amused glint in his gaze.

"Roses?" he mused, twirling the stem between his fingers. "Is there some sort of occasion I forgot? Valentine's isn't today."

Sasha cupped his face with both hands, her thumbs tracing along his jaw as she leaned in, her breath warm against his lips.

"I don't need a day to give flowers to my Darius," she whispered.

Something shifted in his expression—something raw, something deep. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly brought the rose to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the petals. Then, just as deliberately, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her—slow, reverent, unspoken vows woven between them.

And in that quiet moment, with a single kiss, they were bound—two souls entwined, not by fate, not by circumstance, but by love.

For eternity.