Adaline's point of view:

I let the scalpel fall into the stainless steel tray in the OR and stripe off my blue gloves. "Dr. Walker, you can stitch the patient up." I announce as I feel my baby girls going crazy inside my belly. They've been playing soccer with my bladder for the last six hours. It's no wonder I'm performing my surgeries wearing diapers now. Pregnant women always have to pee - or eat.

But I'm really looking forward to spending this weekend in Sweden, where my best friend Sophie is going to marry one of Wlad's best friends Vermont. I hope it's not going to be too cold in Sweden. I mean, the summer in England isn't very warm so I can only imagine how cold it's going to be in Sweden.

I walk out of the OR and into the wash room where I wash my hands and lower arms with soap throughly while I move my hips from side to side. My back is killing me. Six hours used to feel like nothing before I got pregnant but those days are definitely over. I can't do marathon surgeries anymore. I'm limited to six hours max and I gave Wlad a promise. If it's going to be too much, I'll stop and go on maternity leave.

But my deadline is at 34 weeks.

That's still ten weeks away but I'm already planning my maternity leave. I wish Wlad would let me work until I start going into labour because being here is obviously the safest option but I know my husband. He's going to want to go on paternity leave with me. He thinks this will be paradise on earth but I know it won't. We'll get on each other's nerves.

As I dry my hands with paper towels my pager suddenly beeps. I throw the paper towels into the bin and look at my pager. The chief of surgery wants to talk to me.

Well, this should be fun.

I take off my pink peonies cap and stuff it into the front pocket of my navy shirt as I walk out of the washing room and down the hallway. Walking feels good after standing for so many hours, yet my feet have managed to swell again. I have my crocks in two sizes; I wear the smaller once for about two hours before I have to switch to the bigger shoe size. I had no idea my feet would be able to store so much water but pregnancy has proven to me that anything is possible.

Even wearing diapers in my own OR.

I still haven't informed the chief about my future plans. I just told him about my pregnancy yesterday because I had the time window. I'm a very busy surgeon and I very much enjoy getting my hands buried deep into someone's body. I enjoy repairing broken hearts, clamping aneurisms and spreading out someone's whole digestive organs on the table in order to find tissue that needs to be cut out. I enjoy work. More than I enjoy interacting with other people. But ever since I got pregnant people and patients started talking to me like I was a four year old girl. They want to touch my belly and give me their advice. I don't listen to their words, I try to be polite when I tell them that my body is not theirs to touch and stay with the facts when I explain the surgery that I'm about to perform.

But I do enjoy the extra green juices that some of the nurses have brought me. The nurses are really nice to me. Of course they want to give me their advice as well but I like to listen to it while I sip on my green juice.

I stop at the door of the chief and surgery and knock before entering.

Dr. Smith is sitting behind his wooden desk. "Ah, Dr. Bolton. Come in." He says with a smile on his face.

I close the door and sit down across him at the desk.

"I got a call from Dr. Schmitz today." Dr. Smith says to me.

Dr. Schmitz? I haven't heard from him since the day Fleming and I won the Lasker~DeBakey Clinical Medical Research Award in New York; since the evening Fleming died in a car accident. I haven't really thought about him. "Is his team still researching on Alzheimer's?" I ask him back.

"Yes. In Geneva. He asked me about your contract."

I lean back in the chair, "He wants me to work with him?" I remember he asked me in New York but declined. Even back then Alzheimer's was on my to-do list.

"Yes but I told him you'd be going on maternity leave soon."

I fold my hands and rest them on my bump. I have a contract of employment of indefinite duration. If I don't screw up and get fired, I'll work here until I'm ready to retire.

But that's not what I want.

"Dr. Bolton, your value to this clinic is immense so it would be a real shame to loose you."

I lick my lips. Maybe I should come clean about my plans. "Dr. Smith, I think this is a good moment for me to tell you about my future plans." I start explaining, "I'm planning on going on maternity leave at 34 weeks. However, my maternity leave won't last half a year or a year. I'm planning to stay at home until my daughters are six years old as that's the most crucial time for the child's development."

"What?" Dr. Smith asks me shocked. "Six years?"

"Yes. And if I'm honest, finding a cure for Alzheimer's has been on my bucket list for a very long time. I got an offer from him almost a year ago but I didn't accept it. But I'm considering working for him part-time while I'm staying at home."

"So you don't want to come back to us in six years?"

He knows how much I'm worth. I've made this hospital one of the best in the U.K. so understandably he doesn't want to loose me. But no money is going to change my decision. "I don't know but I'll let you know." I promise him.


The smell of cooking food fills my nostrils the second I open the doors of my home. It's a smell that fills my mouth with salvia and makes my stomach growl. I'm always hungry nowadays. I get out of my shoes and throw my bag on the ottoman in the hallway before walking into the kitchen. My husband's placing a steaming hot lasagna on the white marbled kitchen island. He looks breathtaking in the kitchen. Over the last weeks his cooking skills have improved even more. He has treated me with lots of delicious dishes whenever I came home from work. And during the weekends I payed him back by cooking and baking for us.

For a split second I recall the one evening when he licked warm chocolate off of my naked body. I think the white marble top of the kitchen island still has a stain from that night.

"That smells absolutely delicious!" I breathe out.

Wlad looks over his shoulder with a grin on his lips, "I hope it tastes just as good."

"I bet it does." I kiss him softly.

"You're home on time. What happened? Did your patient die?"

It's sad that my husband associates me being home on time with the death of another person. But this is my job and only when I don't do my job correctly, I am home on time. Which hasn't happened very often in the last weeks and ai'm very glad about it.

Unlike my husband.

"No, I was efficient as always." I answer before getting two plates out of one of the many glass hanging cupboards. "I talked with the chief today as well."

"About your replacement?"

"That as well." I place the plates on the round wooden table in front of the transom windows. The view over our backyard is stunning. The pool is illuminated at night and so is the path that leads to the guesthouse, our lake and our special entrance to Regents Park. Wlad already put cutlery and glasses with water on the table.

"What else did you talk about?"

"About a job offer from Switzerland." I tell him as he walks over to me, carrying the lasagna with oven gloves.

"I hope you declined."

"I haven't decided yet." I answer honestly.

Wlad narrows his silver eyes at me as he takes off the bright blue oven gloves. "Della,"

"The job would be in research." I explain to him. "It's about Alzheimer's, Wlad."

He sighs, "Number two on your bucket list."

"Yes." I tell him. I ticked off Parkinson's and now I want to do the same with Alzheimer's. "Dr. Schmitz offered me the same job in New York... the night when Fleming died."

Wlad cuts through the lasagna, "Well, you're going to go on maternity leave now anyway."

"Not now but soon. I could-"

"No. You won't work with the team in Switzerland while you're at home with our girls." He insists as he puts the lasagna on mine and his plate.

My husband knows me too well. "I'll think about it."

"Okay, that's fair I guess." With that he starts eating.

"How was your day?" I ask before slicing into my portion of lasagna as well.

"Good. Nothing abnormal happened."

"That lasagna is really good."

"Ella texted me Troy's recipe."

"I thought you guys made up."

"We did but I'm still careful. Our situation is pretty unique after all."

"Have you hung out with my Dad ever since our wedding?"

"No."

"Maybe you should go out for a drink with him tonight."

"No, I'd rather stay here with you."

"I'm okay. The girls won't come tonight. You can have some fun. Call Vermont and Marco, too." I suggested.

"And you?"

"I'm good with Lily and Luna."

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you here alone."

I sigh, "Maybe Brooke and Sophie want to come over."

"Good. Call them after we ate. If they agree, I'll call your Dad."

I sigh, "It shouldn't be so complicated."

"It's not complicated. I just don't want to leave you alone."

I roll my eyes at his words, "I'm a doctor. I know my body."

"You're also very stubborn and tend to put yourself last."

"I think our girls will come after me, to be honest."

"I think so, too." He says with a grin on his lips, "Oh, by the way I got post from Buckingham Palace and you did as well."

"From Buckingham?" I ask him confused.

He nods, "It's on the counter space next to the coffee machine."

I get up from my chair and walk over to the coffee machine. There's a red envelope with our address and Wladimir's name written on it with a golden pen and a stamp from Buckingham Palace. The letter also has a gold wax seal. I rip it open and read the message.

Her Majesty The Queen requests the pleasure of your company at an investiture ceremony followed by dinner for Doctor Adaline Elizabeth Grace Bolton on becoming an honorary Dame Grand Cross (GCVO) Saturday September 11th, 6:30 pm

I pick up my letter from Buckingham Palace and read it as well. It congratulates me on my outstanding medical work and tells me I'm getting the GCVO for my Parkinson's cure. I can't believe it!

It's like the getting the British version of the Nobel Prize! I'm getting it presented by the Queen herself, which is very rare nowadays. She's over 100 years old, so most of her duties are carried out by her son or grandson. She only does the very least engagements like Christmas speech and walk, Trooping The Colour, Ascot, Remembrance Week and one garden party per year. She's basically retired, but she is going to present me the Order.

I turn around, "I'm getting the highest British order?"

"Yes. Along with your sister."

"Ana's getting one as well?"

He nods, "For the Bolton Academy."

"But it hasn't opened yet."

"I think they're very impressed with the idea and the progression."

"Wow... I need to go shopping."

Wladimir's silver eyes almost fall out of his skull, "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm going to be a Dame Grand Cross! It's the highest order I can receive! And I feel very, very honoured to receive such a recognition."

"Okay, where's my wife? Because you look like her but don't sound like her."

"I get honoured by my home country. There's no way I will go there looking like an elephant!"

"Okay, well you've still got time and by September your body is going to look different so there's no need to stress about it now."


"I love these cats to death! Can I buy them?" Brooke says as she cuddles with Lily. She and her sister have grown so much over the last weeks!

"My little fluffy balls are unsaleable." I say with a grin on my lips. "But perhaps the breeder still has some. Or perhaps the cat's currently pregnant again."

"I'll have to talk with Vermont as well. She's so cute!" Sophie is cuddling with Luna.

And I'm just sitting between them on the couch. Cat-free.

I feel lonely.

Christina is sitting across us in a sapphire blue armchair with her hands wrapped around a mug full of coffee. I don't know how she can drink coffee at seven pm. It would keep me up all night. Actually, it would keep me up for longer.

"This is not how a hen-do should be like." Christina says in her Irish accent. "Us Irish party like there's no tomorrow!"

"Well in case you haven't noticed we have one pregnant lady and one lady trying to get pregnant and one that doesn't like to party at all!" Sophie answers.

"How's it going with Marco?" Christina asks Brooke.

The American brunette with light blue eyes shrugs, "Neither of us is infertile so that's good but there's still no bun in the oven so that's that."

"But you're having fun?" Sophie asks.

"You should enjoy it while you still can! Trust me, once you've got kids all the fun is over. After my brother got his firstborn he turned into a completely different man! There's no partying anymore with him now!" Christina tells her.

Brooke looks at me and I watch how her blue eyes move down to my belly. I couldn't hide it even if I wanted to.

I wonder if Wlad and me will become completely different persons as well. It's something I have never thought about. Did my parents change after having me? "It will happen." I promise her.

"There's nothing to worry about. After two years of trying you can start considering your options. Until then enjoy it."

"With lots of diamonds!" Christina mocks her while sticking out her tongue.

Brooke chuckles. "Maybe it's time to bring out the jewels again."

"That's more like it!" Sophie smiles at her.

How will Wlad and me be as parents? Will we change? Will we stay the same?

"Della, everything okay?" Sophie asks me.

I snap out of my thoughts and nod, "Yeah. Actually, I just got mail from Buckingham Palace today."

"Oh, that sounds interesting. Did you get invited to some kind of party?"

"Something like that. I'm getting a GCVO."

"A what?" Brooke asks me confused while Sophie and Christina's mouths drop open.

"Don't mind her, she's American." Christina says with a wave.

I chuckle, "It's the Dame Grand Cross award of the Victorian Order. Only those who have paid special service to the crown or the country get awarded this very special award." I explain, "And I even get it presented by the Queen!"

"I don't know why you're so stoked about it. The Queen's a very old lady. Prince Charles or even William - that are some men!" Christina says with a grin.

"They're happily married!" Sophie tells her.

"Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream, can't she? Living in a palace must be pretty cool. Just imagine their kids' life!"

I think of last year's Christmas Eve, Ana's wedding and my wedding. Rory's dating George, the son of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. She's dating the future King of England.

And no one knows yet.

I debate on whether or not I should tell that my friends but decide against it. I will keep her royal secret for as long as I have to. But I know that these two won't stay in the dark for long. Le Rosey might be safe but the rest of the world is not. George's getting chased by the paparazzi and so is Rory. Sooner or later someone's going to snap some photos of them and all gets leaked.

"Even their lives have their downside." I say with a shrug.

"Hey, aren't their kids going to the same school as your siblings?" Brooke asks me.

Shit, I shouldn't have opened the box of pandora by mentioning I'll be getting the award. "Yeah."

"Do they know them?" Brooke asks me.

"Of course they do!" Christina starts arguing. "Have you ever googled that school? La Rose or something. It's a boarding school for freaking billionaires, royals and politicians. They ask for, like a million Swiss Franc or something. There's, what, 20 people per school year going there?!"

"It's not a million and there are not 20 people in one school year. More like 70. The school is very private and the pupil teacher ratio is 6 to 1."

"Bloody hell! What do they get taught there? How to rule a country?!"

I chuckle, "No. They learn the same things as in other schools just quicker, more detailed and in different languages. And by the time they graduate, they know the first year at uni will be a piece of cake because they have been taught that in their school already."

"I'm sorry, the kids go to a school and uni at once?" Sophie asks me confused.

"Just for the last year. They get asked what they want to study, who they want to be, and the school adjusts the teaching schedule accordingly. To make the transition from pupil to student smoother."

"Yeah, but do your siblings know the Cambridges?" Brooke asks me again.

I can't lie to my best friends. "Yes. They share most of the classes with them."

"Really?! How are they like? Snobby? Nice? Is Charlotte a bitch?"

I shrug, "I don't know. I haven't talked to my siblings about them." I lie. The Cambridges are very down to earth and not snobby at all. But I don't want to cause any trouble for my siblings. Especially Rory.

"Then you should ask them!" Brooke demands. "Where's your phone?"

"I won't call them now! It's already eight!"

"I don't care I want to know that now!"

Brooke's throwing herself from one obsession to another. "Okay, fine. They know them. But I won't tell you anything other than that the Cambridges are normal teenagers with normal issues. Just because they have a title and a crown protecting them doesn't mean they're very different. They're not."

"No way! You're siblings are best friends with the royals?! That's wicked!" Christina says with wide eyes. "No wonder you're getting the GCVO!"

"That's for my work. For, you know, finding the cure to Parkinson's. Not for my connection to the royal family!" I hiss at her.

Christina holds up her hands as if she's afraid I might attack her like a hungry lion. "Sorry!"

"Does anyone want tea?" Sophie asks us after a moment to cool down.

I open my mouth to answer but suddenly the front door opens and shuts with a loud bang. I frown as I hear light footsteps walking down the foyer. I know immediately that that's not my husband. His thuds are heavy, like an elephant. This is someone else.

"Della?"

I wince at my sister's soft voice. A moment later I see her standing in the arch of the living area. Her big green eyes are puffy and her blonde hair is messy. Shit, she cried.

I get up from navy couch and rush over to my sister,"Ana, what happened?"

She wraps her long arms around my the second I'm within reach. I just hold her while she cries in my arms. I'm not good at this. I don't know how to calm someone down.

I can see how Sophie, Christina and Brooke walk into the kitchen to give us some privacy.

After a few moments of sobbing and sniffing. My sister lets go of me. "Sasha and I had a pretty big fight and I just couldn't take it anymore so I ran to you."

I nod, "Well, my door is always open as you've noticed." I mumble before wiping away the tears. "What did you guys fought about?"

Ana sighs, "He says he's hearing my biological clock ticking. We're bloody 24! It's not like we're near our forties but ever since you started showing off your bump, he's been pressuring me as well."

Well, I can't change the fact that I'm pregnant and she's not. "I don't know what to tell you to make you feel better. Sasha knows your focus is on the Academy, not on having babies. Did you try to tell him that?"

She nods, "He thinks I'm going to see the children that are going to be there as my own and won't want to have children at all."

"That's a ridiculous thought."

"I know."

"Did you tell him that?"

"No, I told him to go fuck himself and stormed off. I don't have time to argue with him, I have an Academy to build and open this year. I have other worries than him."

My sister has never put something above her marriage with Sasha, so this has to be very important to her. "That wasn't the smartest idea."

"I don't care. I'm fighting for my dream. This is my destiny, Della. This school... it's going to change the world of so many children."

"And I'm sure Sasha understands that."

"I don't know. He wants to have kids so badly and I want them as well, just not... not right now. When I'm older yes, but not right this moment."

"But you saw children with him, didn't you?"

"Yes." She admits with a smirk on her full lips. "But not right now. Much later..."

"Maybe you should tell him that."

"He wouldn't believe me. He's going to think I'm making it up to get my peace for now."

"Hiding here until the Academy is built or running is not really an option either, Ana. If there's one thing I learned than it's that communication is the key to solving most issues."

Ana looks at me like I have two heads, "Since when have you become so wise?"

I chuckle, "I don't know. Maybe it's a side effect from the pregnancy." I joke.

My little sister grins and I wrap my arms around her.

"We were just about to make some tea. How about you stay until things have cooled down a little. I'll text Sasha."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Any time." I promise her. "And if it helps to calm you down we can even bake something."

Wladimir's point of view:

I watch how Marco drowns his third bourbon in thirty minutes. I invited Vermont over to White's as well. I sent Troy and Kyler a text as well but both couldn't make it because of work. Well, I'll see Troy at Vermont's wedding again anyway.

"Are you alright?" I ask Marco. I think he's still struggling with the process of becoming a father. It almost makes me feel bad for getting Della knocked up by accident.

The Italian man nods, "I got my swimmers checked and they're perfectly fine."

"That's good!" Vermont says with a smile on his lips. The Swedish man is sticking to water tonight.

"Yeah but Brooke's alright and I'm alright... why is there no baby yet? Why haven't I gotten her pregnant? We're both at the peak of our lives. We're married. We love each other and we want a big family."

"You're stressing too much. Pull out the diamonds and have fun while practicing. Babies come when you least expect them. Look at Wlad, he knocked Della up before they even got married!"

Marco looks at me. "Must be your Russian genes."

"I heard the Italian are not much different."

"You heard wrongly, obviously. Otherwise I'd be having my bambinos running around already."

I place my hand on his shoulder, "God has a plan for all of us."

Marco looks at Vermont, "What about you guys? Kids in the future?"

"Maybe." Vermont says with a shrug. "I don't know."

"Did you guys talk about having kids? I mean, if you're on two different pages before the wedding, you might want to revisit the conversation before saying I do."

Vermont runs his long fingers through his short blonde hair, "Sophie wants kids. Two, maybe three but not more than five."

Marco chuckles, "There's a big difference between two and five."

"Or none at all." I add.

"I just... I don't know the idea of being a father is daunting. Frightening even."

Maybe I should call Troy again. He's the only father in our circle. He could give Vermont and Marco a better advice than me.

After all, there's a big difference between knocking a woman up and actually being a father figure.

"Aren't you scared?" Vermont asks me.

"Of course, I'm afraid to mess them up." I breathe out. "You're responsible for a human being, after all. Not a stuffed animal."

Marco's warm brown eyes widen, "Did you really compare a baby to a stuffed animal?"

Vermont chuckles.

"Shut up, I'm on my sixth bourbon. My brain's bit slow right now."

"Yeah, sure... blame the excellent bourbon on it." Marco grins at me.

I run my fingers through my hair. Perhaps I should quit the alcohol for tonight. Della hates it when I drink anyway.

Adaline's point of view:

"This is not how I imagined a hen-do to end!" Christina complains again. Her whole mouth is covered with the icing of the cinnamon buns that we baked from scratch. "But I must admit these cinnamon buns are pretty epic!"

Ana giggles before taking a sip of her hot tea. "You have to thank our Mum for this. She taught us how to bake."

"Does she give courses?" Brooke asks us. "Maybe some special brownies would get me pregnant faster."

Ana gives Brooke a puzzled look.

"Never mind her. She's just desperate to be in your sister's shoes." Christina says with a wave of her hand.

But my little sister grabs Brooke's hand and squeezes it softly. "Don't worry about it. Your time will come." It's a promise, not just calming words.

Brooke nods, "I hope rather sooner than later."

Ana licks her full lips and for a second I think she's going to reveal what she saw when she first met Brooke. But before she can say a word, her nickname rings through the hallway and kitchen.

"Ana?" It's Sasha's voice.

"Really? Is this open house tonight?" Christina says before rolling her eyes.

A moment later my brother-in-law stands in my kitchen. He is wearing a pair of jeans and a white v-neck shirt. His bright green eyes are full of worry and his shirt straight brown hair is messy.

"Sasha," Ana breathes out her husband's name. I think she didn't expect him here either.

"We need to talk." He says in Russian. Just like Wlad, his voice sounds deeper when he talks in his mother tongue.

It's no wonder we fell for Russian men.

"I think we should give you guys a moment. We'll be in the living room." I say before waving with my hand and getting up from the chair. I can see how Sasha's bright green eyes are glued to my belly. He gulps but smiles before I leave with my best friends.

"You know, Sasha's hot. I don't know why she doesn't want to get knocked up. I know I wouldn't mind carrying his child." Christina mumble as soon as we're out of earshot.

"Christina!" Brooke breathes out shocked.

"Just saying..." The Irish woman shrugs, "You know it's kind of ironic that Ana doesn't want to get knocked up while it would be your biggest wish."

Brooke gulps at her words, "Just wait until you meet your soulmate. Then you're going to be in our shoes and know what it's like."

Christina shakes her head, "Nah, not me. Kids are not on my agenda - ever. A man yes. A big sparkling ring on my finger - yes. But screaming kids? Hell no!" She says to Brooke before looking at me. "Your kids will be angels."

I'm not so sure about that. I just hope they won't be wonder children like their mother. That would make their upbringing a lot harder. "I don't need much sleep, so I think I'm going to be fine."

"Well if you guys ever need a babysitter we are all available." Sophie says to me.

"Not me. I can babysit the cats but not the babies."

Just on call, Lily and Luna appear next to us. Their white fur is so fluffy! "Speaking of my cats, who wants to groom them?"

"Oh yes! I'll take Luna!" Christina's face lights up like the sky at night.

"And I'll take Lily!" Brooke says before picking the Persian cat up. "Where are the brushes?"

We wince as suddenly loud voices come from the kitchen. Loud Russian words. They're fighting again.

"What are they fighting about?" Sophie asks me.

"I'd rather not translate but it's very brutal." I mumble. This is about so much more than having kids. I fear they might have hit a brick wall in their marriage.


I look up from my book as my husband steps into the bedroom. I love him in that black Oxford shirt and black slacks. His dark hair is the perfect contrast to his silver eyes. My whole body awakes as my eyes watch him walking over to my side of the bed. "You're home early. I didn't expect you to be back by midnight."

He smiles before leaning over to kiss me.

And then the smell of alcohol and cigars fills my nostrils. Wladimir rarely smokes cigars or drinks bourbon. He only does that when he's at White's.

I place my hand on his chest. "You smell like a pub."

Wlad chuckles, "Your way of informing me to shower, got it."

He definitely needs a shower. He stinks.

"Any chance you're going to join me in there?"

"Sorry, no." I say with a shaking head. "And don't forget to brush your teeth."

My husband grins, "I hope you had fun as well."

"Definitely. Without cigars and alcohol." I answer. "Ana and Sasha were here. They had a pretty brutal fight." I lick my lips. "She ran to me and we baked some cinnamon buns. They turned out really well."

"What did they fight about?" My husband's face turns sober within the blink of an eye.

"Kids... the Bolton Academy... their lives together." I sigh, "Sasha came by and they fought some more."

"Is Ana staying overnight?"

"No, she wanted to go home with Sasha but I'm afraid all they did was fight even more."

"Well I'm sure they're going to figure it out."

"I don't know. Sasha wants kids now. I mean when he saw me he looked like a kid in a candy shop! He really, really wants to be a Dad. Rather sooner than later."

"And Ana doesn't want to?"

"No. She says she'll have kids later. Much later. She didn't give me a number but I think it's going to take a few years... and I don't know if Sasha can wait so long. Usually it's the woman's biological clock that's ticking but I guess with everything that happened in the last year or so, he just wants some security. He wants to have a child to call his own."

"Maybe I should talk to him."

"Maybe. But you definitely need to take a shower now."

My husband chuckles, "Your wish is my command."

I watch how my husband walks into the en-suite bathroom. I get off of the bed and open the balcony door that's between the many white transom windows. The smell is really awful. It makes me sick and the girls in my belly go wild. Definitely no party mice in there.

I walk out on the balcony and look at the magnificent backyard. As far as the eye can see, there's perfectly trimmed grass with a big pool, lots of trees and roses. The guest house, which is a miniature version of the main house, is on the far left, just a few meters in front of the fence. The lake along with the swings that Wlad insisted on putting there is right next to the guest house. I love this backyard, especially this lush flora and fauna. It's the perfect home. The perfect place to raise our girls. I can't wait for our girls to run around on the grass and learn how to swim in the pool. I love the sanctuary that we created here. I never want to leave this place.

But then I think of Dr. Schmitz and his vision to cure Alzheimer's. In Switzerland.

Away from here.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. Maybe I could commute whenever I decide to work with the Swiss team. All I know is I can't leave these people behind.

"Are you okay?"

I turn around at my husband's voice. He's standing in the open balcony door with a towel wrapped around his hips. His abs are glittering and his brown hair is almost black because it's wet. His eyes are glowing in a silver colour. What a man...

I can feel how a switch flips within me.

And suddenly, all I want is him.

I rush over to him and pull him into a passionate kiss. Now that he doesn't smell of cigars and alcohol anymore, he's much more attractive. My husband returns my kiss and wraps his arms around me. I run my hands through his damp hair as our tongues entwine.

"I thought you weren't in the mood." Wlad whispers against my lips.

"Shut up!"

He chuckles before kissing me again.

My hands find the knot of his towel and I open it before throwing the towel away.

Wladimir's point of view:

It's beautiful here in Sweden. There's so much untouched nature, lots of trees and wild animals. It reminds me of Siberia. It's a wonderful place to get married at.

"Okay, I'm ready to go." My wife's voice fills my ears and I turn around to look at her.

She's dressed in a beautiful fuchsia coloured dress that has short sleeves. Her chestnut curls are wrapped into an elegant up-do. Her sapphire engagement ring is sparkling as much as her wedding band.

"You look beautiful."

"I look big." She says back with a shrug. "And I feel big."

"You're not big. You're pregnant. With twins."

My wife waves with her left hand, "Let's see how big my mother looks. Then I know what's ahead of me."

Gabriella's just eight weeks further into her pregnancy than her daughter. This is the first time I'm going to see Troy and Gabriella after our wedding. We made up, but it's still a unique situation for all of us. It's never going to be like old times and that's perfectly okay as long as he doesn't start arguing with Della again.

Because we all know he loses against her.

I grab my wife's hand before walking out of the room in which we're staying at. Sophie and Vermont wanted a low-key wedding but with stunning photos so they chose a castle in the middle of nowhere that's owned by the Swedish Family. They rent it out for special events like birthdays and weddings. We're just a little less than 60 people but the venue is just perfect for the occasion. At the foot of Dundret mountain sits the Fjällnäs Slott castle that is located in Gällivare, which is far away from any civilisation. Fjällnäs is a wooden castle, built in 1888 by the chief of the mining company; Carl Otto Bergman. Primarily it was a residence and an office, but it was also built to impress the members of the parliament and other senior officials who visited Malmberget with surroundings. In 1894, Fjällnäs received a celebrity visit by King Oscar II who stayed in the castle. In the middle of 1890s, parts of the castle were destroyed in a fire, probably caused by C.O. Bergman's son, Otto as it was said that he devoted himself to chemistry experiments. When the castle was restored, it got two towers instead of one, as well as the new exterior that still remains today. The inside is stunning, the ballrooms are pompous with gold and marble at the walls.

Outside is where the ceremony is being held. It's beautiful with all the floral and fauna. The couple went with a white carpet that paves the way to a beautiful white arch with dozens of purple delphinium and white hydrangea. There are also pinned to the inside of the two rows of seats. It's a bit chilly but I can always give Della my jacket if she's cold. Most of the guests have already taken their seats. The wedding is intimate. There are about 100 people.

I spot Gabriella and Troy sitting on Vermont's side. Della and me sit on Sophie's side.

"There are my parents!" Della rushes over to them, dragging me by our joined hands behind her.

Gabriella's wearing a navy dress with a fascinator and Troy's in a light grey suit with a matching tie.

"Oh wow, you're gigantic!" Della breathes out as she stops across her parents.

Gabriella's bump did grow a lot in the last weeks. It looks like she's carrying a large medicine ball. "You'll be just the same. After all, you have my genes." She grins at her daughter and squeezes her hand because embracing one another is impossible with four unborn babies between them.

"And Daddy's." Della says before hugging her father.

"How are you?" Troy asks her.

"Good." Della says with a nod. "Wlad's making sure of that."

Troy looks at me and for a moment I fear this whole fight might start again but then he embraces me as well.

He really did forgive me. And accept me.

And went back to being my friend.

"I know how tough it can get so if you need a break, we can always go out to Whites. I promise work won't get in between again."

"Daddy!" Della breathes out shocked. "I'm not a monster! I'm just pregnant."

Troy chuckles, "My offer stands. Any time of the day. Any day of the week. Give me a call and we'll meet there."

Della lifts her finger at me, "Don't you dare make that call or I'm going to work until I go in labour!" She threatens me.

Oh, she's serious. "Thanks for the offer." I tell Troy before looking at my wife again, "We should take our seats."

"Yes, we'll see you after the ceremony."

Adaline's point of view:

I take another sip of my water as I watch how my parents dance on the dance floor along with the bride and the groom. The wedding ceremony was so beautiful that it even moved me to tears. Especially when Sophie and Vermont exchanges their vows. I don't know if really their words touched me or if it were the hormones. But either way, it was an unforgettable moment.

However, I just can't dance tonight. My feet have swollen immensely and although it's not hot here in Sweden, my body has saved a lot of water today. Even my fingers are a little swollen.

And I still have a long way to go until these girls get born.

I took off my shoes and placed them next to me but thankfully the table cloth is long enough that no one has noticed it.

But my Mum seems to be doing perfectly fine. She's dancing like she doesn't even feel her bump. She's laughing, swinging and twirling with my Daddy. They look so happy and in love.

She didn't look that way when Daddy was gone. But now... now she's got her soulmate back and she's flourishing like never before.

Probably why she got pregnant again.

Wlad comes back to me with a plate full of a mixed salad. I asked him to bring me extra olives and tomatoes and to my delight he did exactly that. As it's almost midnight, most people have started eating sugary food with lots of different cakes and pastries. Those and the combination of high-proof alcohol makes a pretty full dance floor. "Oh, I live for that smile on your lips right now!"

"And your girls live for the food that I'm about to give them." I say back and take the plate out of his hands before starting to eat.

Wlad sits down next to me and places his large hands on my bump. In a few weeks his opposite fingers won't touch when he places his hands on my bump.

Needless to say we're pretty excited about it.

My husband just stares at me with this huge grin on his lips while I finish that salad in record time. Pregnant women like to say they're eating for two now - or three in my case - but what they're really saying is that they can eat whatever and in how many quantities they want because they're pregnant. But it's not true. Whether you eat more or not, the child inside of you is still going to get its nutrients. That's what pregnancy vitamins are for.

I'm taking them as well but my appetite has grown through the roof. While I have gained weight, most of it seems to be sitting on my thighs and hips - and the bump. The bump has definitely been growing, which is good because it means our girls are growing. And growth is good. It means development.

"What?" I ask him as I finish the last black olive.

"Nothing."

"That grin doesn't mean nothing."

"I just enjoy watching you eat, that's all."

I roll my eyes at his words, "I'm not eating for three if that's what you're implying."

"No, of course not. You just happen to be magically carrying our twin girls. Not eating for three at all."

"Wlad, I'm just hungrier than usual. Because our girls suck the strength and nutrients out of me via their umbilical cords. I need to replace what they take!"

"Well, I call that eating for three." He grins at me again.

I roll my eyes at his words. "Whatever."

"Do you want another round?"

I bite on my lower lip, "Could you do that? Just some avocado slices and chicken breast this time, please."

He nods before kissing me, "You know, I can't wait to do that all day every day when we're on paternity leave."

"Oh, Gosh, by the time I give birth I'm going to be as round as a hamster in winter!"

My husband laughs again before picking up the plate and walking back to the buffet - the third time.

Well, maybe I am eating for three after all.


The next weeks fly by and before I know it I've hit the 30th week mark with the matching bump. While I'm still calm about everything that concerns our girls, my husband... my husband is definitely freaking out. Sometimes he even wakes me up in the middle of the night just to discuss when we will start giving them soothers or how long I want to breastfeed them. He asks me questions I can't answer because they're not here yet.

But somehow he has managed to drag me into a baby shop on my free day. We're at the Baby Cot Shop in Chelsea. The little store is tucked away from the busy Oxford street with all of its tourists.

Wladimir reserved the whole shop for us today. Typical of him. Privacy and safety is his biggest concern. There's this saying that says you're basically marrying your Dad and I can definitely sign that. It's no wonder they're best friends.

We already bought lots of furniture in Pure Baby, a shop that sells organic baby stuff. Of course we've hired Marco to design the nursery for our girls. Because apparently at 30 weeks, we already need to have a finished nursery. But we don't have a lot of clothes yet.

"Wlad, this better be the last store for today." I tell him.

He looks at me like I have three heads, "We've only been to one shop!"

"Yeah I know but my feet are swollen!"

He looks down at my feet. "They look fine. You just hate shopping."

"Alright, you've got me. Can't we order this stuff online? It's just clothes anyway."

"Della!"

I roll my eyes, "Fine but can we be gone in thirty minutes?" I ask him as we walk inside. It's a beautiful shop with luxury clothes. Just like the last shop we were in. And I don't know how much Wlad managed to waste an entire hour there doing nothing but talking with the staff and buying everything they recommended! It's no wonder he asked them to package everything up and send it to our home, he basically bought the whole store!

"Do you want me to dress them for the rest of their lives?"

"Don't be ridiculous. That's why personal shoppers exist."

"Adaline Elizabeth Grace Bolton!"

Oh, he's using my full name. He's getting angry. "Alright fine. You may dress them for the rest of their lives."

Wlad shakes his head in disbelief, "I hope our girls don't feel all the bad vibes you're giving today."

I place my hands on my bump as if I could cover their ears, "They know I love them. I just don't like to waste my precious time with something like shopping!"

"But it's not for you! It's for them!"

"Hello! Welcome to Baby Cot Shop. My name is Alisa-"

I shut the saleswoman up by rising my finger. "So, you're saying I'm a bad mother because I don't care about buying them clothes?!" I hiss at him in Russian.

"No, not at all. All I'm saying-"

"Fuck you! I'm not the one giving them bad vibes. You're putting too much pressure on yourself and you're projecting your fear of being a bad Daddy to them on me!" I repeat Brooke's words that she said the last time we talked to each other.

"Adaline,"

"Don't Adaline me! I am not a bad mother and neither are you but you have to prove it to yourself by creating an eco friendly nursery and buying luxury clothes. Babies live in much worse conditions!" I hiss again in Russian.

"But not my daughters! They will get the best treatment-"

"I will not raise two spoiled brats!" I interrupt him.

"Excuse me,"

"Just one more second." I tell Alisa with a raised finger without tearing my gaze off of my husband. "I love you but your fears are eating you up. I can't seem to calm you down or give you the reassurance you need, so how about you talk to my father about it?" I suggest. Maybe I can cut this shopping trip short.

To my surprise Wlad nods, "Okay."

"Good." I look back at Alisa. "Hi, sorry for the wait."

The brunette saleswoman smiles at me. "No problem. Welcome. Thank you for choosing us to take care of your baby's needs."

"Two babies." I say and look around. To my surprise this is not a store full of blue and pink clothes. It's held fairly neutral with blush coloured clothes, grey and white furniture and lots of stuffed animals. I actually like this shop. "Can we just have everything you have for girls twice?"

"Yes, of course. I can show you some pieces. We just got in the softest cashmere this morning. Beautiful white hats-"

"No need. Just pack everything up."

"We also have prams downstairs. You can have a look at time while we pack everything up for you."

I look at Wlad, "Didn't you already decide on a pram?"

My husband nods, "But we can have a look anyway." He suggests.

"Okay." I say and follow him downstairs. I know my husband. He just wants privacy so we can continue with our discussion.

"I am not projecting my fear on you!" He hisses at me in Russian as soon as we're out of earshot.

If he's starting with Russian then I know he's mad. I've hit a nerve.

"Wlad,"

"I just don't want to screw them up! Is that so hard to understand?!"

I sigh, "Солнышко,"

"If you don't like to go shopping for them then let me do all of that! I am happy to buy jumpers and onesies and diapers... and everything else they might need! Because I love them! I-"

"Wladimir," I hiss his name in a warning tone. I might be pregnant and a wonder child but I'm also full of hormones that make my feelings go on a rollercoaster ride all the time.

"Извини." He apologises before touching my shoulders. "I don't know what has gotten into me."

I lick my lips, we're both stressed. "Apology accepted."

"I'm just so surprised that you're so calm while I'm freaking out..." he presses his forehead against mine.

I stare into his silver eyes, "I don't want to screw them up either but I have faith in you and me. Our daughters will have the best grandparents who have done that before us. They will be our guides, not just the books that you're reading. Rely on humans instead of books. Have faith in us." My lips brush against his as I speak. "Okay?"

He nods, "Okay... Okay."

Wladimir's point of view:

I hang up the last hanger into the my daughters' closet. It's full of baby clothes, always in double. Most of them is neutral coloured but I bought some pink clothes in secret. They were just too cute! I don't know why Della is so against pink and dresses. They're girls, they should wear dresses and pink stuff for as long as they can't voice their opinions - and I still have something to say.

Della really snapped at me earlier in the baby shop. I'd usually say it's the hormones but I cannot blame them for everything.

I know Ella suffered from postnatal depression after she gave birth to Della and I'm starting to worry that Della's next. She doesn't really care about baby stuff or even their nursery. She's so passive about the girls. She doesn't even want to talk about my concerns before we go to sleep.

Maybe it's the lack of sex that's making her so grumpy. I mean, it should be me that finds it hard to go without sex but I'm fine. I miss being intimate with my wife but she's been feeling huge and round... and unsexy. Which is completely not true. A woman is the sexiest when she's carrying her man's baby or babies. I'm so excited to meet my daughters but I'm also quite glad they haven't arrived yet.

They can come in six weeks because that's when they have developed lungs. That's when their survival rate is biggest. Twins usually come at around 38 weeks, so Della and I still have two months to go.

Which for Della means to actually work. We agreed for her to stop working at 37 but I think I was a little too soft on her. 32 would have been a better deal.

I close the door of the white closet and have a look around in the nursery. It's done thanks to Marco's superpowers but Della hasn't even stepped in here. She completely avoided the nursery - and anything baby related.

She's really making me worried.

I walk out of the nursery and down the hallway. I can't wait for four more feet to run down the hardwood floors and dirty handprints on the white paneling. I can't wait for colourful drawings on the wallpapers or transom windows... I am so ready to become a father.

And I hope Della's feeling the same.

I walk down the spiral staircase and into the living room. My wife's laying on the beige couch across the lit fireplace. Would the day ever come when I would see her and not feel the earth move under my feet. I hope not.

Framed photos are standing on the mantelpiece: photos of our wedding, photos of us at Brooke and Marco's wedding where we were maid of honour and best man (before the earthquake happened and we made up), photos of us at Vermont and Sophie's wedding this summer and the famous photo on the rooftop of La Mamounia (our first holiday together as a couple). The photos tell our story and pretty soon we can add one with our daughters.

Perhaps we should take one while Della's still pregnant.

I look back at Della who is reading a medical journal while laying on the couch. She can't stop working even on her free day. Her big belly is acting as a resting place for the journal. She's a workaholic like her parents. She inherited it from them. It's in her genes but she needs to learn how to relax and have time for herself.

I walk over to her and lift her legs before sitting on the couch. "How are you?"

"Still pregnant." She answers with her eyes still focused on the article in the journal.

"What are you reading?"

She looks up from the journal, "I think I want to find a cure for Alzheimer's."

She's already thinking about the next project? "Della, but you're pregnant."

She rolls her navy eyes at me. "Being pregnant is not a disease. I thought I could start with the research the next year while I'll be home with the girls."

"You want to stay at home?" I ask her slightly surprised. I thought she would get back to work as soon as possible.

She nods, "For the first six years actually. That's when the child's development is the most crucial. The brain's development is the highest as everything is new to them and I want to be there for them."

"Six years? You'll be a stay-home Mum for six years?" That's something I absolutely didn't expect from her!

She shrugs, "Why is this so surprising to you?"

She's not falling into a depression. She's just caring about them in a different way than me. She's not about clothes, furniture and appliances, she more concerned about their development. "I just... I thought you'd want to get to work as quickly as possible."

"While I am going to miss working with patients a lot, I would never do anything that could harm our daughters. I want to be fully there for them and when they start going to kindergarten a few hours a day, I can start focusing more on my research for Alzheimer's. Finding a cure for it is a marathon, not a sprint. It's going to take years, decades even."

"But you were so... so passive when it comes to buying stuff for them."

She lays the journal on the coffee table and lifts herself, "I hate shopping. Any kind of shopping. I don't get excited over it, unlike you. If this were up to me, I'd just order everything online in one go so I won't have to deal with it. But you like this kind of stuff. You like caring for them in this way... and I like caring for them in other ways."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." She promises me as little feet and hands start kicking against the inner wall of her stomach. The deformation is so crazy to watch! "And they do, too."

I place my hands on the deformation and feel how strong they already are. My girls will become superwomen, just like their mother. "I can't wait to meet you guys..."

"They still need six weeks of breeding - minimum." She tells me, "But I'm pretty excited as well."

"Can we take some photos of you while you're still pregnant for the mantelpiece?"

She nods, "I'd like to capture this special moment as well. I'll ask Jo to take them when she comes home for the autumn holiday."

"Jo?" I ask her confused. Her 19 year old sister can take photos?

"She inherited the talent for photography from Daddy. I saw her work the last time I was home by accident. She's pretty amazing. And If I'm going to pose in lacy underwear - which I'm pretty sure you want - than I don't want my Daddy to take the photos."

"Okay." I agree and start massaging her feet. They've gained water over the last weeks but that's normal.

She lets out a moan full of pleasure. It awakes my cock in record time but as I've said sex is not on the table right now. "Oh, this feels so good!"

"Can we talk about your last day at work again?"

She sighs, "You want to move it up, right?"

"32 weeks."

"No!"

"Della,"

"The hospital is the safest place for me to be."

"No, the safest place for you to be is by my side." I disagree with her.

She rolls her navy eyes again, "You know what I mean. If anything happens, I'm right where I should be."

"As a patient yes but not as a doctor. You work long hours there. You operate standing on those swollen feet for hours. You walk from one end of the hospital to the other."

"Wlad, it will keep me fit."

"It will make you exhausted." I counter. "You come home the next day when your shift should have ended the evening before. You're a workaholic."

She doesn't argue with me on that one. "But that's in two weeks."

She's actually giving in? "I know."

"What am I suppose to do the next eight weeks?"

"Focus on growing these babies. Relax. Take a dip in the pool downstairs. Have hot baths and face masks. Read novels instead of medical journals." I suggest.

She bites on her lower lip. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I won't repeat myself."

That's my wife. I grin before kissing her softly. "Thank you."

"Just remember, when I drive you crazy it is your fault."

"You won't drive me crazy." I promise her and run my fingers through her chestnut curls. I will never have enough of her.

Adaline's point of view:

I'm snuggled up next to my husband on the couch as we watch Rory's fight of her life on the tennis court in New York. She's the finalist of the us open, which is absolutely fantastic. If she's going to win this match tonight, she's going to be the youngest Golden Grand Slam winner in history! She's been fighting to win that last, world changing, match point for the last ten minutes. She's playing against the German tennis star Angelique Kerber, just like at Wimbledon and I think the Australian Open. Those two have been the tennis watchers' favourite competitors, because they play world class tennis. It's a real joy to watch them play.

But also very nerve wrecking.

Even if it's already four thirty in the morning here in London.

"She's got this." Wlad says for the hundredth time. He's just as anxious as me.

The camera shows my parents who are there along with Ana and Sasha. My Mum's baby bump is huge! But they also look like they're melting in the September summer heat in Queens. Rory's secret royal boyfriend George is there along with his siblings Charlotte and Louis. They're not sitting next to my parents, but they're catching everyone's attention nevertheless in one of the VIP glass boxes they're in. There has been rumours swirling around that the Cambridge trio is more than a supportive system to the Bolton triplets, other pupils from Le Rosey told the press that they're best friends.

But they have no idea Rory's dating George, because in public she's making it look like she's dating Alexander Zverev, another tennis star that's roughly ten years older than her. They get along really well and he agreed to be their cover. It's unbelievable how well Rory can already play the press and use it to her advantage.

She's going to be fine by George's side when they decide to come clean about their relationship.

"Do you think she's going to announce her relationship with George after this?" I ask my husband.

"I don't know. She's your sister, not mine. You talk to her more often than me." Wlad mumbles.

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"Sh! I want to see her win." Wlad interrupts me, his silver eyes glued to the TV in front of us.

I sigh, "She's going to win. Ana saw that and her visions are never wrong."

Wlad looks at me, "It's still different to be experiencing it!" He says and just in that moment Rory makes her Golden Grand Slam point. The audience erupts in cheers and starts giving her standing ovations.

"Yes!" Wlad and I cry out at the same time. We both look at the screen and watch how Rory's kneeing on the tennis court in her white tennis dress and her hands covering her face. Is she crying?

"Is she okay?" I ask, worried.

"She's taking it all in, give her a moment!" Wlad says with a grin on his lips. He's just as excited as me. Rory freaking won a Golden Slam!

We watch her rising to her full height again. In all calmness, she walks back to her bench and packs her stuff. She picks up her bag and walks over to Kerber's side of the court. She picks up the yellow tennis ball and throws it into the crowd.

"Someone's getting very lucky tonight!" The commentator says, "This tennis ball is worth millions!"

A man with a smile on his lips holds up the ball.

"And he's allowed to keep the ball, unlike at the other grand slam tournaments. That ball could make him a millionaire."

Rory starts bowing to the crowd around her and waving with a big smile on her lips. She even throws a kiss into the cheering crowd.

And we know it's for George and not our parents.

Suddenly her trainer, Andy Murray runs. He picks her up and swings her through the air. They share a few words, big smiles and lots of excitement.

"That's Andy Murray, her trainer. This must be one of the biggest, if not the biggest, moments of this trainer career. The only woman before Lorelai Bolton, called Rory, who was able to win a Golden Grand Slam was Steffi Graf. Rory wrote history today and I think I'm speaking for all of us when I say I can't wait what this girl does next!"

Only her family knows what's really next for her. And that is, ending her career, going public with George and starting at Oxford next year. Rory's always been a planner and I'm not the tiniest surprised she got what she worked for. She put in a lot of sweat and her soul into this... while her heart was supporting her from the tribune.


I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look huge in that magenta coloured dress! The cleavage is too much and the short sleeves make my arms look fat. No, there's no way I'm going to wear that tonight.

I get out of the dress and throw it on the floor in the walk-in closet. I'm 34 weeks pregnant and I already know I will have the most active twin girls in the whole world! They're constantly kicking and boxing me or each other. I just hope they get along better when they're out.

I sigh before walking over to the section of evening gowns in the walk-in wardrobe. I asked a personal shopper to buy me some options but so far, none of these twelve dresses seem to be an option.

Nothing looks good enough for tonight. The night where I will receive the Dame Grand Cross by Her Majesty the Queen herself! It's so surreal and so exciting!

"Della?" Wladimir's deep voice echoes through the whole upper floor.

"Wardrobe!" I cry back as I decide to go through the dresses again. The red Valentino looked hideous on me. I looked like a massive tent when I tried it on. The white Dior was not better and the grey Chanel didn't fit. The bloody zipper didn't close! The magenta coloured dress by Gucci on the floor is obviously not an option either. The same goes for the emerald coloured Philippa Lepley dress. Perhaps I should just go for a maternity dress. Maybe I should go there looking like a tent!

Wonder child dressed like a tent receives GCVO by the Queen! The photos on the Royal Instagram page will be fabulous!

I don't even fight the tears that suddenly start streaming down my face. I really don't care about fashion at all but the very first time I do - aside from my wedding dress - I can't seem to find something that fits! Is it really so hard to dress a 34 week pregnant woman?

Maybe I should pray for a miracle.

I sit down on the couch in the room and stare at the clothing rank. How is this possible that not even one of these so called luxury designers can create a dress that's appropriate and actually fits?!

Maybe I should go to Oxford street and buy the first dress that I see at Primark in the biggest size. God knows, that's going to fit better than this crap in front of me.

I shake my head in anger as the tears continue to stream down my face. I hate this! I hate all of this! If I won't find something to wear than I might cancel this tonight. Tell I'm sick or something. They will understand. I'm bloody pregnant after all!

"Della, I- hey, are you crying?"

I wince as I feel my husband's hand on my shoulder. "Yes."

He knees down in front of me, "What's wrong?" He asks me in fluent Russian as he wipes away the tears from my cheeks.

Shit, I have to do my makeup again. It's probably all smeared. And I'll have puffy red eyes tonight if I won't stop crying but I just can't calm myself down! I'm full of hormones and suddenly everything's too much! "Nothing fits!" I hiss at him although it's not his fault. No, it actually is! He was the one that knocked me up! It's absolutely his fault!

"That can't be true."

"Oh, so you think I'm lying?!" I almost yell at him. "You're calling me a liar?!"

"No, that's not what I meant. What I meant-"

"I don't care what you meant!" I yell at him as my sadness suddenly turns into anger.

He winces from the volume of my voice and rises to his full height. "I brought you another dress."

I look to my left and see a white clothing bag around a hanger. "What?"

"Alexander McQueen. It's velvet and navy." He says before unzipping the clothing bag. He reveals a beautiful long sleeved dress with a V neckline in a very deep navy velvet. It's almost black but in the light you can see the hint of blue. "I called the designer and gave her your numbers. It's custom made and should fit you."

"It's beautiful."

"I think the royal blue sash would look good against it." Wladimir says as I get off the couch. "Do you want to try it on?"

I nod, "It's the only option."

"Well, you could always go into Buckingham Palace looking like a red tent, but I prefer my wife in more fitted clothing." Wladimir tells me as he gets the dress of the hanger and helps me into it.

The long sleeves fit my arms perfectly and the smooth velvet even goes over my bump without any problem. Even the cleavage looks decent in the mirror. The only issue now is the zipper in the back.

"The original idea was to have the lace or bejewelled insets at the waistline and the back and more puff at the shoulder seam, but I changed my mind at the last minute." Wladimir explains as he zips the zipper.

"Wait, you designed it?" I ask him shocked.

"After your reaction when we received the invitation for tonight, I knew this was very important to you and I was not going to let you go there looking like a tent or a potato sack." He says as he closes the zipper.

Suddenly my vision becomes blurry again and I know I'm crying once more. "You designed a dress for me?" I ask him with a tight throat and a high pitched voice. I can't believe my husband did this for me!

"Oh, don't cry!" Wlad says before embracing me tightly. "I want you to look good tonight." He rubs circles on my back but it still takes me a moment to calm down. "I love you."

"I love you too." I whisper before kissing him softly. I love this man more every single day.

"Okay and now take a look in the mirror. From what I see, you're pretty far away from looking like a tent." He says before moving away and freeing my view of the mirror across me.

And I am indeed pretty far away from looking like a tent. The dress features a fitted bodice, long sleeves puffed at the shoulder, and a sweetheart neckline. It's elegant, timeless and sophisticated. It's exactly what I wanted to look like when I receive such an outstanding award.

"You look phenomenal!"

My eyes stop at my face in the mirror. As predicted my makeup is totally smeared. The mascara has run down my cheeks, leaving long black strokes and the cat eye look has turned into a panda eye. "Thank you so much! This is perfect but I have to redo my makeup now."

"Do you want me to help you out of the dress?"

"No, I'll just pop on a morning gown to protect it. How about you get changed as well while I'll redo my face?"

My silver eyed husband grins, "Okay. We still have an hour before we should leave."

I nod, "I'll be done by that." With that I turn on my heel and rush out of my walk-in wardrobe and into the big en-suite bathroom.

"You should wear your hair up!" Wlad cries after me and like always he is completely right.


I pull a pin out of my mouth and pin the up do into place. Just like Wlad said, the dress looks even better with my hair up, rather than down. My makeup is fixed and my hair looks good. It has grown so much over the last months that I'm starting to consider cutting a big amount off and donate it to make a wig. Maybe after tonight, I'm going to do that.

I get up from vanity in the white marbled ensuite bathroom and get out of the bathrobe.

"Are you ready?" I can hear Wlad calling me.

I check myself in the mirror again before walking out of the bathroom, but I stop on the doorway as my girls start boxing against my bladder again. I should use the bathroom before leaving. I peed three times while doing my makeup and hair but perhaps that wasn't enough. "Just a second, I need to pee before we leave!" I cry back.

My husband's deep laughter rings in my ears, "Okay but when you come out I have another gift for you. I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

Another gift? Has my husband turned into Father Christmas?

Either way, this makes me speed up everything even more and rush out of the bathroom after washing my hands. I even put on nail polish tonight. The last time I wore nail polish was on Sophie's wedding day and prior to that it was my wedding day. I usually avoid it as it always chips and it looks unprofessional when I greet patients... but then again, I haven't been at work since two weeks now. Maybe I should really do all that spa treatments that Wlad suggested.

Because faster than we can blink we'll be parents of two baby girls.

I walk down the staircase and meet my husband in the wide living room. He's, as always, surrounded by our two Persian cats, Lily and Luna. He's petting them as they're all rolled up on our big beige couch.

My heart aches when I think of leaving them alone as well. They've become such a vital part of our live. They're family.

After a moment of watching them, I clear my throat so I don't scare him.

"I already felt you, мая любовь." He says before turning around with a grin on his thin lips. He looks marvellous in this black tuxedo.

Of course he did. "Then let's go." I say and wave with my hands.

"Not so fast. I still want to give you my gift." He says before picking up a square shaped box that was laying on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"What's this?" I ask him as I walk over to him.

He shows me another smile, "Something I saw on my way back from the artelier as I picked up your dress. I thought it would be quite fitting." He hands me box.

I frown before opening the box. A stunning diamond necklace is sparkling back at me. The double-drop pendant has 13 emerald-cut diamonds and can be detached from the chain of 38 brilliant-cut open-back collets. "Wlad..." I didn't expect this at all! "First the dress and now this?" I ask him, totally shocked. He doesn't spoil me very often, which is totally fine by me, but when he does he knocks me off my feet!

"I'm surprised you're not fighting me on this." He mumbles before picking up the necklace and helping me to put it on. It fits perfectly to the diamond dangling earrings that I'm wearing. "Tonight's your night."

"This sort of feels like the evening when I got the Nobel prize all over." I mumble as he closes the necklace.

He places a kiss on the nape of my neck that awakes my desire for him in an instant. "Well, this time your father doesn't actually hate me."

I chuckle, "No, no I think we can safely say we're past that phase."

He fondles my left cheek with his hands, "Yes, we are."

Wladimir's point of view:

Watching my wife getting awarded with the GCVO award does feel like the Nobel prize all over. Only it's much more private. The ceremony was held in the throne room at Buckingham Palace by Her Majesty The Queen herself and the dinner for the roughly hundred guests afterwards was in the state banquet room. Ana and Della look phenomenal with their royal blue sashs and the badges. The badge is a Maltese cross with a medallion depicting the Royal Cypher of Queen Victoria on a red background, surrounded by a blue ring bearing the motto of the order. Ana was wearing a sparkly tiara because she's here in her position as the Princess of Romanov and all other Royals wore tiaras or black tuxedos as well. It was a very formal dinner in public, but it's a very informal tea and cake - and something stronger for us men - afterwards at Catherine and William's home, Apartment 1A at Kensington Palace.

The Royals took off their sparkling tiaras and the men loosened their black bows around their necks and got rid of their black velvet jackets. After the formal photos were taken, we drove here for a family celebration only.

Although, I've never been at Kensington Palace, it does feel like family somehow. Especially the way Rory and George are glued together. Gabriella looks relaxed, although we're all aware that her baby boys could come any moment now. She's chatting with William and Catherine as we're sitting in one of the many drawing rooms here at Kensington Palace. My wife's talking to Ana and her husband, so that leaves me with Troy.

But we haven't really talked since we sort of made up. Our conversations involve the basics, but it's not like before. I'm pretty sure it will never be like before, but at least we could try to get close to what we had... right?

At least we're having bourbon, so that eases my nerves. Della doesn't like it when I drink but tonight I really need it.

"Did you talk to Marco recently?" Troy asks me, trying to break the ice between us.

"No. The last time was at Vermont's wedding." I answer. That was in the early summer and we now have September. "You?"

"No, but I think we should get together again sometime soon. Maybe at White's?"

I nod, "If work doesn't get in between. Or you know, the arrival of your two boys."

Troy smirks, "Gabriella isn't worried so I'm not worried as well. She's developed an internal clock after going through so many pregnancies. If she doesn't say the boys aren't due until early October than I believe her."

Maybe I should believe Della as well. She thinks the girl will come mid November. Or even at the end of it. But I still want her close to me. I want her at home with me. "Della's staying at home until she's ready to give birth."

Troy bursts out into a laughter, "Good luck with that!"

I frown.

"She's going to get bored very quickly." Troy says with a grin on his lips. "Trust me, I've tried to keep Gabriella away from work the first time and as you know it wasn't a very well thought through decision. She nearly ripped my head off at the end."

"Yeah, but with the triplets-"

"That was totally different. When a doctor tells your wife to stay at home than it's totally fine and acceptable, whereas when it comes from us, it's a crazy idea."

I chuckle, "True."

"I bet she wants to head straight back to work after giving birth."

"No, actually she wants to be housewife for the first six years."

Troy nearly falls from his chair, "What?"

"Yeah, I didn't believe her either. But she just ended her last shift this week and she's been surprisingly calm since she left the hospital behind."

"Well that won't stay this way for long. She's going to want to be back in the OR quicker than you think."

I lick my lips. Della told me she was going to go through with her plan to find a cure for Alzheimer's. "She won't be going back into an OR so quickly. She wants to join a Swiss research team. They're looking for a cure for Alzheimer's. Dr. Schmitz offered her a place in his team when we were in Manhattan last year."

"Will you guys move to Switzerland?"

"No. We're staying in London. Della's planning to work from home for the first few years and then maybe start commuting when the girls start attending nursery... it's all a bit vague right now."

Troy licks his lips, "Well, once my granddaughters have arrived things will never be the same and all the planning she's been doing will be thrown away anyway."

I think she's saying this to calm himself down. "I don't know. Alzheimer's has been on her bucket list for as long as Parkinson's."

"Really? I didn't know that."

I look at my wife, the mother of my two unborn daughters. Della's still deeply engaged into a conversation with Ana and Sasha, so much that she's using her hands to talk. She looks magnificent in her dress. This woman found a cure to Parkinson's so I have no doubt she's going to find a cure for Alzheimer's as well - while raising our girls with me.

Della's navy eyes find mine and she gives me a brief smile while Ana talks to her. For a moment, the world stands still. Everything around us vanishes... the people... the royals... the walls of Kensington Palace... until there's just us.

She's my everything.

Adaline's point of view:

I carefully put the second earring into the tray in the walk-in closet. I've pulled out all the pins in my hair, so my chestnut coloured curls are now loose. It's been a long night but also very exciting. Especially the way we ended our evening at Kensington Palace. Rory looked very happy with George and I think I even saw Nate trying to flirt with Charlotte - but I'm no expert so I don't want to misinterpret them. Catherine and William are really nice and their home was very impressive. I've never been to Kensington Palace but the triplets acted like it was their second home. I have a feeling George and Rory will go a long way. Ana even told me they'll get married and I don't doubt that.

I brush through my curls as I walk into the en-suite bathroom. I really could use a long shower now. It's long after midnight. Wladimir's standing in front of the sink, washing his hands thoroughly with soap. His silver eyes catch mine in the mirror. Unlike me, he's already in his underwear.

Because he doesn't have a belly that's the size of a pumpkin in front of him. I haven't seen my toes in weeks and honestly the way my feet swell up during the day I'm kind of glad. Looking sexy, feeling sexy, hasn't been a familiar feeling in the last weeks.

But tonight... tonight, my husband really did everything right. He made sure I looked elegant, sophisticated... and felt bloody sexy.

"I need you to undress me." I explain to him. "And I need you to join me in the shower." I whisper.

He turns dries his hands with a towel before turning around. "Helping you undress and joining you in the shower? Must be my lucky night."

I grin as I watch how he walks over to me. His abs shift as his feet come closer to me. My husband looks like every woman's dream, while I look like... like a pumpkin with legs and arms. "If you're really lucky, we might do more than just shower in there."

He places his hands on my hips and pulls me closer to him, until I can feel his erection through the black boxer briefs. It's vibrating against my big belly. His lips seal over mine and I get lost his smell and his taste. His hands move to my back and I can feel how his fingers climb up my spine until they find the zipper of the dress. Quickly, he has pulled the zipper down and I can feel his warm hands pulling the fabric down my shoulders and arms. He helps me out of the navy velvet dress until it forms a pool on the floor. Gosh, I feel so much better already!

"Better?" He asks me between our kisses.

I nod, "So much better..."

The dress had a built in bra and my nipples harden immediately although it's not cold in the bathroom. The desire overcomes me in a sudden rush and I pull my husband into another kiss. My hands find his boxer briefs and I pull them down without lifting my lips from his. It's been a while since I felt the need for sex but tonight... tonight's different.

"Adaline,"

The way my husband moans my name makes my toes curl. "Солнышко,"

Suddenly, he scoops me up in his arms. I cry out in shock.

"Wlad, put me down! I'm way too heavy for you!" I protest as he walks with me in his arms into the double glass shower. I've already gained eight kilos and I'm not anywhere near giving birth. I haven't been able to work out as much in the last weeks so naturally the calories I eat end up stored as fat on my legs and hips.

My husband opens the glass door and places me on the white marbled bench that's standing between the two rain shower heads. "You'll never be too heavy for me." He says before closing the glass door.

"You're saying that now but-"

"Stop it. You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen."

"You mean before I got pregnant."

"No. It's still very much true. You're carrying my daughters." He starts arguing before going down on his knees, so we're on eye level. Then he places his hands on my big belly. "We creates two lives. Human beings that are in there. This is utterly mind blowing! Your pregnancy is the sexiest thing ever. Della, your eggs and my sperm created two babies! You're gifting me the family I always wanted. You're gifting me two Принцессы!"

I pout, "They're not princesses!"

My husband sighs at my protest, "What do you want me to call them?"

"By their names."

"Della, I have a pet name for you and I sure as hell won't call my daughters just by their names for the rest of my life."

I run my fingers through his deep brown short hair. "I don't know. Зайчики, maybe?" Зайчики means rabbits in Russian. It's a common pet name, just like Солнышко - little sun - and любимая - which means darling.

"Зайчики?" My husband asks with a grin on his lips.

"Better than calling them princesses. It makes me think that they're going to be spoiled brats."

My husband's silver eyes widen, "Della! They can hear you!"

I giggle, "Зайчики or their names."

Wlad nods before kissing me softly. "Жизнь мая..."

His deep voice rings through my whole body. I can feel how my whole body prickles, how my heart nearly bursts and how the hairs on my arms and neck stand up. My body reacts to his words and his heart. "You're my life as well." I whisper back and mean every single world.

This man across me, this man that's literally on his knees in front of me, is my everything. He's my sun and moon. He's my universe.

He's my soulmate.


Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!

Please review!

In gratitude,

Nicole