Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 872

Chapter 872: Best Creation

"Together," she echoed, the word sounding like relief.

"You’re not alone in this, Mom. Whatever happens, whatever mess comes next—you’ll never face it alone. I promise."

She nodded against my chest, and I felt the shift in the room like a physical thing: the suffocating heaviness that had pressed down since I walked through the door began to lift, replaced by something lighter. Warmer.

Something that tasted—impossibly—like the very beginning of joy.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you... are you happy? About this?"

I pulled back just enough to cup her face in both hands, making sure she could see every bit of truth in my eyes.

"Happy?" I laughed—not bitter, not forced, but with genuine, startled wonder. "Mom, I’ve built an empire. I created ARIA—a literal goddess who can rewrite physics for fun. I’ve got more money than most countries, more power than should be legal, and a mansion that could probably host its own zip code. But this—"

I slid my hand back to her stomach, palm flat and reverent. "This is the most precious thing I’ve ever made. Nothing else can even ever come close."

Her eyes widened, fresh tears spilling over but not falling yet.

"Not ARIA. Not Liberation Holdings. Not the tech, the wealth, the women, any of it." My voice cracked—just a little—with emotion I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) hide. "A life, Mom. Our life. Growing inside you right now. Part of me and part of you, tangled together into something new and perfect and ours."

She was smiling through the tears now—small, real, radiant.

"You mean that?"

"I’ve never meant anything more."

And then—because the need hit me like a freight train, because I couldn’t not ask—I blurted:

"Can I feel the baby?"

Linda blinked. Then burst out laughing—bright, surprised, the sound bubbling up like she couldn’t help it. "Peter, the baby is maybe two days old. There’s literally nothing to feel yet. It’s barely the size of a poppy seed."

"I don’t care. I want to feel anyway."

"You won’t feel anything—"

"Please?" I gave her my most shameless, pleading look—the one that used to get me extra cookies when I was ten. "Please, Mom? Let me try?"

She stared at me for a long second.

Then laughed harder—her whole body shaking with it, tears of mirth mixing with the others. "Oh my God. You’re actually begging. The great Peter Carter—master of harem, builder of empires, literal god—is begging to touch a belly that won’t even show for months."

"Is it working?"

"It’s ridiculous."

"But is it working?"

She shook her head, still giggling, cheeks flushed. "You’re impossible. You know that?"

"I’ve been told. Frequently."

"Fine. Fine." She shifted, tugging the covers aside and pulling her oversized t-shirt up just enough. "But I’m warning you—there’s literally nothing—"

I didn’t wait for her to finish.

My hand trembled—trembled—as I reached for her.

Me. The man who’d built armies of drones and robots and rewritten reality. My fingers shook like I was touching something holy as they settled against the soft, warm skin of her stomach.

The first contact was electric.

Her skin was warm, smooth, familiar in some ways—I’d touched her here before, in passion, in intimacy—but completely new in others. This wasn’t just Linda’s body anymore. She was carrying our future.

Our legacy. Our child.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

My soul felt like it was trying to climb out through my throat.

"Peter?" Linda’s voice was soft, wondering. "Are you okay?"

I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

There was nothing to feel. She was right. No bump. No flutter. No physical proof yet. Just smooth skin, warmth, and the steady thump of her heartbeat beneath my palm.

But I felt it anyway.

Not with my hand. With something deeper—something primal and ancient that words would never reach.

My child was in there.

Our child.

Growing. Becoming. Waiting to meet us.

Linda’s hand covered mine, pressing it more firmly against her stomach. Her fingers laced through mine, holding me there, sharing the impossible, sacred moment.

We didn’t need to. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"Thank you."

"For this." I pressed my hand more firmly against her stomach. "For the most precious gift anyone has ever given me. For... for our baby. For trusting me with something so..."

"Another?"

"With your son as the father?"

Then Linda snorted.

"When you put it that way..."

I grinned. "It is pretty fucked up, isn’t it?"

"Incredibly fucked up." But she was grinning too, eyes bright with mirth. "Let’s see... you’re the father. And also the baby’s older brother."

"And you’re the mother. And also, technically the grandmother, since I’m your son."

"Oh God." She covered her face with her free hand, laughing harder—shoulders shaking, tears of mirth mixing with the others. "We’re going to need a flowchart. A very large flowchart. Maybe a PowerPoint."

"Good thing we can afford the most confused genealogist in history."

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