126: In The Middle Of Blood And Chaos
SERA
If someone had told me years ago that one day there would be a suggestion that my heavily pregnant self would act as bait for a deranged stalker with a God complex, I would've laughed in their face. But there we were.
Killian hated it. He hated it so much that he paced our living room like a caged animal when Ethan first suggested it.
"She is not doing it." His voice was the kind that could make grown men piss themselves. "She's carrying my children. You think I'll put her in front of Vincent like some cheap bait?"
I was propped against our pillows, eating grapes straight from the bowl, and watching my husband argue was more entertaining than television. Ethan didn't even flinch; that man had nerves of steel.
"Vincent won't come out unless he thinks he's got leverage," Ethan said calmly. "And Sera is the only person he considers leverage."
Killian stopped, his jaw flexing while his eyes blazed. "Then I'll carve him out of whatever hole he's hiding in."
"And risk him slipping through your fingers again?" Ethan arched a brow. "We corner him, or this drags on."
They both turned to look at me then. Well, one glared (Killian), and the other waited (Ethan).
I popped another grape in my mouth and shrugged. "I mean... it's not the worst idea."
Killian's head whipped around so fast I thought he might break his own neck. "Sera—"
"Relax," I cut him off, patting my belly. "I'm not exactly volunteering to fight him one-on-one. I stand in the room, looking all delicate and helpless. He comes swaggering in, thinking he's finally caught me. And then—bam." I snapped my fingers. "The trap shuts. End of story."
Killian's hands curled into fists. "You think it's that simple?"
"No," I admitted. "But I think it's necessary."
Because the truth was, I was tired. Tired of living with this shadow hanging over us. Tired of the thought that Vincent could show up on our doorstep while Rue was playing with her dolls. Tired of feeling like no matter how safe Killian made us, there was always a monster lurking behind the curtain.
Killian's fury cracked then, just a fraction, revealing what was underneath: fear. Not for himself. But for me. For the life inside me. For the family we had built brick by brick.
I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. "We do this, and it's done. We can breathe again. Isn't that worth it?"
He sank onto the couch beside me, pressed his forehead to mine, and whispered, "You're going to be the death of me, Sera."
"Not if I kill Vincent first."
That got me a rough laugh, the kind that rumbled from his chest. He kissed me then, and I knew he'd already lost the argument.
Ethan cleared his throat. "So it's settled. We draw him out tomorrow night. Sera plays bait. K lingers in the shadows. I'll be on sniper."
Killian growled low in his throat, still glaring at the man. But he didn't say no again.
And that's how I ended up slipping on a simple dress and preparing to waddle into a deserted hotel lounge to lure a psychopath out of hiding.
I was pregnant, hormonal, and very much armed with my husband's entire kill squad.
What could possibly go wrong?
....
The first rule of being bait? Look convincing.
So I did my best. Loose hair, soft dress, no weapons visible, just a heavily pregnant woman shuffling into the private lounge of the deserted hotel, clutching her belly. My pulse drummed with anxiety, but my lips carried a smile.
Vincent was already there, leaning against the window, his shadow stretched by the amber glow of the streetlamps outside. His smirk was the same as always. Arrogant as hell.
"You came alone," he drawled, his voice hoarse. "Either you're brave, or Killian's gotten sloppy."
I tilted my head, letting a lightheaded laugh roll out. "Oh, I've always been brave, Vincent. That's why you've never been able to keep me. It's why you had to wait until my memory was gone before you married me. Pathetic."
His eyes narrowed. He pushed off the glass and started toward me, every step echoing in the quiet room. "You think you're clever. But I'll take you and the brats in your belly, and when Killian arrives—"
I lifted my hand. "Pause."
Vincent froze, his frown deepening. "What?"
"Do you ever get tired of hearing your own villain monologues?" I asked, feigning boredom. "Because I do. Every time."
The flicker of irritation across his face definitely made me feel smug. And that was when Killian stepped out from the shadows behind him, silently.
Vincent's smile faltered.
"Hello, Vincent." Killian's voice was low and lethal, calm in a way that promised carnage. "You've been chasing my wife long enough. Tonight, I'm done running defense."
Vincent spun, his hand already twitching toward his gun. But Ethan's shot rang out first, shattering the lamp by his head. Glass rained down. Vincent ducked instinctively, only to find Roman and Adam blocking the exit.
The trap was in action.
I leaned my hip against the table, folding my arms across my swollen belly, enjoying the way Vincent's arrogance bled into panic. "Surprise," I said sweetly. "You're the main course tonight."
Killian advanced, his eyes burning. "I told you before. No one touches what's mine."
Vincent swallowed hard, finally realizing that he wasn't the predator tonight. He was dinner.
Even so, the plan went to hell in about five seconds flat.
Vincent didn't come alone. Of course.
Four—no, five—of his men swarmed inside, their weapons glinting under the bright lights. My pulse skipped. They fanned out in formation, one of them grinning when his gaze landed on me.
Well, shit.
Smoke hissed suddenly, flooding the room with white fog and a sharp chemical sting. My eyes burned. I coughed, waving my hand, trying not to panic. Killian had warned me that things could go sideways, but this was still unexpected.
The smoke thickened, swallowing the room. Shouts and gunfire filled the air as Killian's kill squad clashed with Vincent's men.
And then, Vincent was suddenly by my side. The bastard had moved like he'd rehearsed this moment, straight toward me as if the smoke and chaos were stage effects designed for his grand entrance. His hand clamped around my arm, his grip iron-tight.
"Still beautiful," he crooned, dragging me closer, pressing the cold muzzle of a gun against my temple. "Even fat with his child. I should've taken you sooner."
“Go and fuck yourself,” I hissed, annoyed. How dare he call me fat?
"You thought you could hide forever, Sera?" His voice was low, dripping with amusement. "I always take what's mine."
That word, 'mine,' was the last straw. Something in me snapped.
I wasn't a helpless, trembling woman. I wasn't just a wife or a mother or a pregnant distraction in this trap. I was an assassin. I had been forged in blood and pain long before I'd ever found Killian. And if Vincent wanted a monster, oh, I could be one.
My fingers found the knife strapped beneath my dress. The weight of it was familiar, like an old friend.
And then I moved.
With one sharp twist of my body, the blade slid into the side of his throat. His eyes went wide, shock freezing his features.
"You should've stayed dead the first time," I hissed, ripping the knife free.
Blood sprayed, splashing on me as the metallic smell assaulted my nostrils. He staggered, clutching his neck, but I didn't stop. Not this time.
I drove the knife into his chest, once, twice, three times, each thrust fueled by every fear he'd ever planted in me, every nightmare he'd made me live through.
My belly pressed heavy against him as I snarled through clenched teeth, "You. Don't. Touch. My. Family."
He gurgled, collapsing, but I wasn't done. Not until it was finished.
I crouched over him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and whispered against his ear, "Goodbye, Vincent."
Then I dragged the blade across his jugular in one clean, merciless cut. His body jerked and stilled, and that was it. The shadow that haunted us was gone.
The smoke thinned, revealing the carnage around me. His backup had all been neutralized. Killian and Ethan had carved through them with brutal efficiency while I was ending Vincent.
And when I finally turned, my chest heaving, blood dripping from my knife, there he was.
Killian.
Standing in the smoke with his broad shoulders tense, his blue eyes locked on me. There was no horror or anger in his gaze. Only raw, unfiltered adoration.
And that made my heart skip a fucking beat.
"It's over," I breathed, and he crossed the place in quick strides. All of a sudden, my stomach constricted dangerously. A gasp escaped my lips as something wet trickled down my legs.
I lowered my gaze, my eyes bulging in their sockets. Then I looked back at Killian, who suddenly looked terrified. Of course. My children would choose now, in the middle of blood and chaos, to come into the world.
"Killian...the babies are coming," I croaked. He scooped me off my feet into his arms right away, and I gasped in shock.
"You didn't notice? I've been bulking for this moment," he told me, and I buried my face against my chest, letting out a laugh.
"I'm scared," I finally whispered, and he quickened his pace.
"I'm with you, Angel..." I could hear his heart pounding harder. "...every step of the way."