Chapter 167 Patient Wait

Chapter 167 Patient Wait
Cherry POV

In a rare pause amid our relentless probe into the family's shadowy betrayals, Nicholas and I carve out a moment to visit Sophia, bedridden in her quiet sanctuary.

"I'm just getting old, my dears," She rasps. "The body fails, and the mind... well, these past days have been a storm. I need rest, that's all."

Though she doesn't say it outright, I can feel the weight of what she's endured in her silence. Nicholas squeezes my hand, a silent anchor. "We've got news, Ma," he says, his tone softening. "Cherry's pregnant. We've known for a few days. Wanted to tell you sooner, but things got crazy. So we're here now, just to share this, hoping it cheers you up."

Sophia's face shifts, a flicker of light breaking through the gloom. Her lips curve into a faint smile, and for a moment, she looks less like the matriarch of a crime empire and more like any grandmother-to-be. "A child," she murmurs, her eyes finding mine. "That's a blessing in dark times. We've got to shield this little one from all the dangers circling us."

I nod, my grip tightening on Nicholas's hand. We ease into conversation, the room filling with the quiet murmur of shared burdens. I recount the swirl of chaos we've been wrapping—Justine's supposed suicide, the lingering suspicion around Anthony, the uncertainty about Russell's grief, and even Eric's petty schemes to drag Arthur and his mess back into my life.

Sophia listens intently. Then, unprompted, she turns to the past, her voice dipping into a well of guilt. "Anthony and Eric... they were never easy, even as boys. Anthony, especially, couldn't stand Nicholas from the cradle. Always whispering to Ronan, trying to paint him as weak, unworthy." Her hands tremble on the blanket, her confession raw. "And when Ronan died, Anthony saw his chance. He's wanted Nicholas gone ever since, to take it all for himself. Eric... he never stopped him. Just stood aside and watched. I failed them, all four of my sons. Only you, Nicholas, stayed true."

I feel the weight of her words settle over us, a shroud of regret. Nicholas leans forward, gripping her hand with a tenderness that contrasts with the hard lines of his face. "It's not your fault, Ma. They chose their paths. Anthony and Eric—they're not on you." His voice dips, carrying a memory I've never heard. "Before Donovan passed, he told me something. He knew someone had poisoned him, felt it in his bones. But he made me swear not to strike first, to keep the family whole. Only if they struck again, he said, then no mercy. I think it's time to settle that account."

Sophia's eyes harden, a spark of the old fire flaring. "I may be old, but I'm no fool to shield betrayal. In this family, those who turn on their own pay the price—even if they're my blood."

Her righteousness pierces me, a mix of awe and ache. I can't help but hurt for her, for the pain of watching her sons tear at each other. Her gaze softens as it falls to my belly, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "I just pray this little one grows up in a safer world than ours."

We bid her goodbye soon after, her words lingering as Nicholas and I return to our room. My mind churns, emotions raw and jagged under the weight of this pregnancy and the constant threat. I'm a mess of nerves, and seeing Nicholas sift through evidence against Anthony only frays me further. Papers and photos litter the desk, a map of betrayal I can't escape. "Why don't you just grab him?" I snap. "Haul Anthony in, make him talk."

"It's not that simple, Cherry. Anthony's Darcy's father. You drag him in, you drag a lot of folks into the mess."

I cross my arms, frustration boiling over. "Darcy cut ties with him ages ago, didn't she? She won't care if we deal with her dad." Inside, though, I'm already planning to check in with Darcy to make sure she's okay with whatever we do. I can't risk fracturing that bond.

"Even if Darcy's fine with it," Nicholas counters, his tone measured, "Anthony holds shares in the family business. Cleaning him out takes time and strategy. You can't just snap your fingers."

His logic grates on me. I'm tired of waiting, of scheming, of living under this shadow. "If you don't handle this soon, you're not sleeping in my bed," I threaten, half-serious, half-desperate for some control.

A smirk tugs at his lips, and before I can react, he scoops me up, settling me onto the sofa with a gentleness that belies his strength. "Fine. We'll sleep here instead." His voice drops, teasing, and his hand brushes my arm, sending a shiver through me.

I can't help it—my irritation melts under his touch. We curl into each other, his warmth a balm against the storm in my head. I lean in, murmuring, "Tonight, I want..." My words trail off, suggestive, but his fingers find my belly, a soft, protective stroke.

"Easy, sweetheart," he whispers, concern lacing his tone. "You're carrying our child. Your body's got enough on its plate right now."

I pout, but he shifts the conversation, cooling the heat between us. "Lennie's awake," he says, his voice steady. "But only for a short while."

My heart lurches. "I want to see him," I insist, sitting up.

"Not now." Nicholas shakes his head. "I promise, once Lennie's fully recovered and can stay awake steadily, I'll arrange for you to meet him."

I lean closer, my voice softening as I plead, "I should've been there when he woke. He'll be upset I'm not around. Please, Nicholas, take me to him. If you do, I'll let you handle Anthony your way."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, but there's a reluctant smile in his eyes. "This weekend. I'll take you myself."

I beam, hooking my pinky with his in a childish promise. Excitement bubbles up, and I wriggle against him, nestling closer. He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "Rest, Cherry. You're more active than a kitten, and you need to take care of yourself."

I roll my eyes, but inwardly, I know he's right. Besides the morning sickness, I've been lucky. My body hasn't rebelled much against this pregnancy. Still, as I rest against him, I can't shake the tangle of fear and hope that knots my chest.

A child, in this world of ours. Sophia's wish for safety echoes in my mind, a prayer I'm not sure we can answer.