The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 330

Chapter 161-2

+25 Points

I pull the blankets up to my chin, listening to the familiar sounds of our home: the click of the coffee maker down the hall, the quiet clatter of dishes, the refrigerator door opening and closing.

A few months ago, I was lying in a sterile hospital bed, alone and in agony from a car accident. Today, I’m wrapped in soft linens, smelling the fresh aroma of dark roast drifting into the room, carrying a secret miracle inside me.

The sheer contrast makes my chest ache with a sudden, overwhelming gratitude.

When Locke returns a few minutes later, he’s carrying a tray. It holds a steaming cup of coffee, a freshly toasted bagel stacked with cream cheese, and sliced strawberries on a plate.

“Look at you,” I tease, pushing myself up into a sitting position against the plush headboard. “Room service?”

“Only for my favorite girl,” he says, setting the bagel and fruit on the nightstand and settling onto the edge of the mattress beside me. He hands me the mug, his gaze locked on my face as I take my first sip of the rich, warm brew.

The heat spreads down my throat, comforting and familiar. “Mmm,” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second as the rich flavor hits my tongue. “Thank you. That is heavenly,”

“Always,” Locke says. His hand comes out to rest lightly over my knee through the blanket, his thumb stroking in slow, soothing circles against my leg. “So… talk to me, Zara. Where’s your head at today? We didn’t get much time to process yesterday between the clinic visit and coming home dead on our feet. How do you want to handle things going forward?”

My chest tightens slightly as the reality of our situation settles over us once more. I look down at my coffee mug, tracing the smooth ceramic rim with my thumbnail before meeting his attentive eyes.

“I want to wait,” I say. “I want to wait until three months to tell anyone, Locke. Until the first trimester is over, and we know for sure that everything is stable.”

Locke doesn’t hesitate for a single second. He reaches out, taking my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face so I meet his steady gaze.

“Done,” he says, his voice quiet, absolute, and devoid of any pressure. “Whatever makes you feel safe, baby. Three months. We keep it strictly between us, Doctor Mercer, and your obstetrician until you’re ready.”

A wave of relief washes over me, loosening the tight knot that’s been sitting in my chest since yesterday. “You’re okay with that? Even with Mayhem and Jade hovering? You know Jade is going to know something is up if I turn down a glass of wine at dinner or skip a coffee at the garage.”

“They can hover all they want. Your timeline is the only one that matters. Nobody pushes past me on this, Zara. Not even the formidable Jade Callahan.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

“Now… that three-month timeline brings up another thing we need to figure out, Locke continues, shifting

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closer to me on the bed and crossing his forearms over his knees. “How are we going to handle your time at the garage without raising suspicion?”

I pause, looking at him carefully. Working at the MC garage is deeply physical: wrenching on heavy bikes, pulling engines, lifting parts, bending over frames for hours, and inhaling exhaust fumes and solvent cleansers.

It’s gritty, exhausting work, but it’s work Nove. It gave me my purpose back when I was recovering from leaving Knox and my treatments.

“I know I shouldn’t be breathing in harsh chemical solvents or lifting engine blocks right now,” I admit, my brow furrowing as I think through the logistics. “But if I suddenly step back from the shop completely, the guys are going to ask questions, and Dad too. They all know how much I love working down there. They’ll know something big is going on.”

Locke reaches out, catching my hand and sliding his fingers through mine. “I’ve been thinking about that exact problem since yesterday… and I have an answer. A reason that gets you completely out of the garage, protects you and the baby, doesn’t make a single person in the club suspicious, and actually puts your best skills to work.”

I look at him, intrigued, “What kind of reason?”

“A full pivot. But first, finish your food, wash up, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I want to lay this all out for you properly.”

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