Chapter 401 403

Chapter 401 403
Because, God help me… I believe him.

Infuriatingly, I feel tears spring to my eyes, but I try my best to force them back down. Emotion would only take up more time. And I’m pretty sure I’ve already used up half of my allotted ten minutes.

“Kian, that’s not all.”

His expression goes hard. “Tell me.”

“Rokiades gave me an ultimatum. I have to choose: you or the baby.”

He puts his hand against the partition, and I join my fingers with his instinctively. “It’s an easy choice, Renata,” he whispers urgently. “Pick the baby.” He says it as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

“He’ll kill you, Kian,” I point out in horror. “It’s not just a threat.”

“He was going to kill me regardless. This just gave him the excuse he needed.”

I shake my head. “I can’t…”

“Think of our child, Renata,” he says.

Our child. The words are strange, but I want to get used to them. I desperately want that.

“What’s to stop him from killing the baby after it’s born?” I ask.

“Three things,” Kian says confidently. “One, it’s going to bode well for him to have everyone think he impregnated you so quickly. Second, he needs an heir and he’s not guaranteed a second baby. Third, raising the child as his own and keeping the child close to him will guarantee that you are tied to him. He’s going to want to use the baby to keep you in line.”

He takes one look at the expression on my face and his fingers tighten around mine. “It’s not going to happen, Renata,” Kian assures me. “I promise you. That’s his plan. Mine is different.”

“You’re in a cell right now, Kian,” I say. “Any plans you might have aren’t likely to be of much use.”

He smiles. “I still have a clan out there. And brothers. And friends. Just because nothing has happened yet, doesn’t mean nothing is going to. There’s not going to be a wedding, Renata. You’re not going to be a slave to that fucker for much longer. I will free you.”

“Can you free yourself first?” I ask in a small voice.

He smiles. “I’m working on it.”

“Renata!” Rokiades’s scream echoes across the warehouse space. I flinch instinctively.

“Don’t let the old man fool you into thinking he’s powerful,” Kian tells me. “It’s all an illusion.”

I reach up and graze my fingers against the scabs of old wounds his face. “Those don’t look like an illusion to me.”

“These?” he scoffs. “These are nothing. I’ve had much worse for much less.”

“Renata! Don’t make me drag you out of here!”

I see the blatant fury in Kian’s eyes. “Go,” he says to me.

I give him one last nod and head back over to where Rokiades is standing impatiently. “I wouldn’t have expected you to make a fool of yourself over a man,” Yannis remarks.

He’s trying to insult me, but the words have no effect on me whatsoever. I say nothing.

“What did he say when you told him the joyous news?” he seethes.

Beneath the mocking tone, I can sense the curiosity… and the insecurity. But before I can tell him to mind his own fucking business, the door to the warehouse is pulled open with a loud creak that makes the roof above us shiver.

“Sir?”

“What the fuck is it now?” Yannis barks.

“Drago Lombardi is asking to see you.”

“Drago Lombardi?” Rokiades spits, like the name tastes bad. “That son of a bitch is dead.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sir,” the guard explains. “We vetted him. He is who he says he is.”

Rokiades turns to me with that manic glint back in his eyes. “Well, well, well… your brother seems to have nine lives, Renata,” he says. “How about we go see which life he’s on now?”

53

Kian

About fifteen minutes after Yannis drags Renata away from me, my door is thrown open. I get to my feet as a guard walks in with a pair of cuffs in hand.

“You medical check-up is here,” he says, keeping his distance. “Turn around.”

The size difference between us is enough that I can sense his fear. But I stand and let the guy do his work. I’m still reeling from everything Renata told me.

I’m pregnant. It’s yours.

I dared once to let myself feel something. But opening up to Annabelle almost broke me when she left. She took part of me with her that I never thought I’d get back.

But I feel it again now. That warm glow in my chest. It’s unmistakable.

And it’s all because of Renata Lombardi.

After the guard has cuffed me, he steps out of the cell and Dr. Lenore walks in.

“Evening, Mr. O’Sullivan,” she says smoothly.

I wait until her expression tells me the coast is clear. Then I lay into her. “Is it true?” I demand. “Is it fucking true?”

“We don’t have much time,” she says, as though I haven’t even spoken.

“Sarah.”

“Yes, it’s true,” she says with a heavy sigh.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I snarl. “You knew. You’ve been here. You could’ve said something. And yet it was radio fucking silence. Explain yourself.”

“I did know. And I made the choice not to tell you,” she says stubbornly.

Some women, like Aisling, were nearly broken by their experiences. Other women, like Dr. Sarah Lenore, were made tougher because of it. When I saved her from the Lombardi trafficking rings many years ago, she was an altogether different woman. Skittish and wary, it took a long time for me to earn her trust. But her potential was obvious, even back then. She’s always been steely-minded. Sharp. Unwavering.

“You chose not to tell me,” I repeat, dumbfounded and raging. “What gives you the goddamn right to do that? You’re supposed to tell me everything.”

“As it pertains to business, yes,” she says unapologetically. “But this isn’t business. It’s personal and I made a call.”

“You made a call… about my life? About my child?”

“And I’d do it again,” she replies, still icy and calm even in the face of my hot anger. “You’re too close to the situation and I couldn’t trust that you’d keep cool.”

Jesus. Talk about the student surpassing the teacher. Not that I’m in any hurry to admit that.

But ironically, this is exactly the reason I knew she’d be fucking great at this. She’s strong. Carved from rock. She’s not the kind of woman who wants to forget her past trauma. She wants to learn from it. Rise from it…

So that she can go back and break the chains of suffering that once pinned her to the dirt.

That determination is why it took next to no convincing to get her to join the ranks of the Clan. Who better than me to give her the weapons she needs to hurt the people who hurt her? Who better than me to help her free the poor women falling into the same shadowy places that once entrapped her?

It took years to position her within the enemy’s reach. But even I never imagined quite how vital she’d become.

“I’m always fucking cool.”

“Except, apparently, when it comes to this woman,” she says, meeting my eye. “Your men talk, Kian.”

I roll my eyes. “Bunch of schoolgirl gossips. Fine. We’ll circle back on this topic. What’s the play right now?”

“Your brother is in the city.”

“Took him long enough.”

She smirks. “We’ve come up with a plan to get you out of here. But we need to move fast. I’ve already wasted time answering your damn questions.”

“I’m guessing there’s a diversion set up.”

“Already in play,” she replies. “Drago is at the front gate asking for Rokiades.”

“Drago Lombardi?” I ask incredulously.

“That’s the one.”