Page 4 of One Last Time

“The office called today,” Haven replied. “We’ll be going in soon for it.”

“Oh, that’s good, then. Is this the last one?”

That made Haven sigh.

“It is.”

Their last round of IVF.

Their last chance at one more baby.

Before this, it had seemed like all Haven needed to do was jump in bed with Andino and somehow, they’d end up pregnant again. And then a couple of years passed after Emily Cecelia’s birth where nothing happened. They tried for a while on their own before going for a specialist consultation. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but for whatever reason, Haven’s ovaries simply decided they no longer wanted to drop eggs even though they produced them just fine. More than one option was offered—they tried every single one to no avail and with no baby yet.

Here they were now.

IVF.

One last time.

“Saying good luck doesn’t seem appropriate,” Kim murmured.

Haven ran her palm over the dark curls atop her middle child’s head, and laughed under her breath. “You know what, it’s as good as anything, Kim.”

“Well, good luck, then.”

Yeah.

They needed it.

THREE

Haven’s SUV was already parked in the driveway by the time Andino arrived home, but that wasn’t anything unusual. They could both be in the city at the same time, and somehow, his wife would always arrive home before him—and she normally grabbed the girls on the way by his parents’ place, too.

“Want me to leave the Rolls in the driveway tonight?” Nate asked from the front.

Andino sighed, considering it. Sometimes he had the enforcer keep the car parked at his home, and other times, he asked for it to go somewhere else. That way, less people knew he was at home and the hours he liked to keep.

One couldn’t be too cautious.

“Where’s your car?”

“Well—”

Andino chuckled. “Drive the Rolls home, but if you get it back here tomorrow with a fucking scratch, Nate, I swear to God …”

“It’ll be in the driveway waiting for you tomorrow morning in perfect condition, boss.”

Yeah, it better.

He didn’t have to say it out loud.

Just as Andino was about to exit the car, a call rang through to the Bluetooth.

“It’s John,” Nate said, glancing in the rearview.

“Put it through to my phone—don’t leave until I’m in the house.”

“Got it.”