Chapter 12 012
STEVE POV
I let out a deep, shaky breath as I finally got Freya settled on the bed. I never meant for things to go this far—I just couldn’t stand there and watch her completely lose control of herself. I still don’t fully understand what the hell is happening, but seeing her like this… It fucking breaks me.
Why does it have to be only tears? For the past few days I have met her.
Her tears keep replaying in my head, and every time I picture her face crumpled in pain, something inside my chest cracks a little more.
“Luna…” Freya mumbled weakly, her voice barely above a whisper as I tried to ease her down properly onto the pillows.
I paused for a second. Luna, her daughter. The way she said the name—so soft, so broken—it hit me hard.
I stayed patient, moving slowly so I wouldn’t startle her. I adjusted the blanket over her, made sure her head was supported right, then gently brushed the damp strands of hair away from her face. My fingers lingered there a moment longer than they should have. Every time I looked at her—and saw how shattered she was—that same sharp ache twisted deeper in my heart. Like something inside me was breaking right along with her.
I was still staring down at her, lost in my own head, when Diana’s voice sliced through the quiet like a blade.
“Who the fuck is that bitch?”
The door flew open with a bang. Diana stood there, eyes blazing, already stepping inside.
But in two quick strides I was in front of her, blocking the doorway completely. I put one hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back out into the hallway, pulling the door almost shut behind me so Freya wouldn’t hear any more of this.
“Quiet, Diana,” I said, voice low.
“What?”
I know my sister. Diana’s never been the type to take orders quietly. She fights every damn thing. No way was I letting her blow up right outside Freya’s door.
My hand clamped down on her shoulder, firm enough that she couldn’t shrug it off. I dragged her down the hallway, not giving her the chance to plant her feet or start yelling again. She stumbled a little at first, her heels clicking hard against the floor, but I didn’t slow down. My grip stayed tight.
We reached my office. I shoved the door open with my free hand, pulled her inside, then kicked it shut behind us. Only then did I release her shoulder.
She spun on me instantly, eyes flashing, voice low and venomous.
“Steve, what the fuck?” She growled, rubbing the spot where my fingers had been like I’d burned her.
"Sorry," I muttered, though the word felt too small for the weight in my chest.
“Seriously, Steve.”
The thing is I forced myself to walk away from that recovery room; I left Freya. It was more like pulling against a physical chain. My body was moving toward my office, but my soul was still back there, anchored to the woman breathing shakily on the table. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to turn around, to sit by her side, and to stay there until she woke up.
Since I can’t do that now, I do the only thing I can manage right now without looking like a complete psycho.
I grab the CCTV remote off my desk, flick it on, and punch in the codes for the recovery room cameras. All three monitors switch at once. There she is. Freya’s face fills the screens—clear, soft under the low lights, still pale but beautiful even when she’s wrecked. I zoom in just enough that I can see the slow rise and fall of her chest.
It all grew worse the night she walked out of this gym after that kiss—the deep, desperate kind of romance that branded itself into my bones. I told her to get rid of the scumbag who keeps putting tears on her face, but my body wanted to do it for her. I wanted to take her away from him myself, even if it meant ripping his surname off the little girl who matters more to Freya.
Luna. That's her child's name.
I won’t approve of that little girl being raised in shit.
I’m protecting them both. Mother and daughter.
Even if it sounds wrong—whatever the hell anyone said—I don’t give a shit. Freya’s already under my skin, and that little girl comes with her.
Nothing will stop me from taking her.
“Wow, that is… just wow,” Diana’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She muttered the words, stepping closer to the monitors. Her eyes flicked between the screens and my face, narrowing.
“Bro, who the fuck is she?”
I looked at Diana and gave her a quick, flat smile. I knew she would want me to explain everything, so I turned back and sat down. My eyes stayed fixed on the screen where Freya was still sleeping peacefully. But before Diana could say another word, my phone rang and cut her off.
I stared at the caller ID. Victor Kane. My jaw tightened. Victor was my right hand in the "other" business—the side of my life that didn't exist in the daylight. For him to call me here, at the gym, meant something was moving in the shadows that couldn't wait for nightfall.
I stood up, sliding one hand into my pocket as I turned my back to Diana. I faced the wall of monitors, my eyes locking onto the feed of Freya’s room.
"Speak," I said, answering the call.
"Apologies for the intrusion, Boss," Victor’s voice came through, gravelly and precise. "I know the sun is still up, but the shipment at the West Docks has been cleared. The 'insurance' we placed on the rival firms has paid off—they’ve backed out of the bidding. The territory is officially yours. We’re ready to move the assets tonight."
"Nice," I murmured. My voice was a low, cold vibration.
Behind the walls of this gym, I wasn't just a man who understood physical strength. Steve Hayes is the king of the city’s underbelly, the billionaire ghost architect of the black market. This gym? It was the only clean thing I owned. It was my mother’s last wish—a dying request for her son, the ex-special forces operator who had come home with too much blood on his hands, to have a place that was "light." She wanted me to have a legacy that wasn't built on fear.
But old habits die hard, and power is addictive. I had built the gym to honor her, but I built the empire to protect what was mine.
I stared at the screen, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Freya’s chest. She looked so fragile against the white sheets, a stark contrast to the dark report Victor was giving me in my ear.
She had no idea that the man watching over her wasn't just a trainer or a business owner. She was being guarded by the very monster the rest of the city was afraid of.
"Double the security at the docks, Victor," I commanded, my eyes never leaving Freya’s face. "And send a message to anyone watching. I’m occupied with something personal. If anyone interrupts my peace today, they won't live to see the sunset."
I hung up and leaned closer to the monitor.
You’re safe now, Freya, I thought, a dark, possessive heat blooming in my chest.