Thriving,Azlyn thought wearily, staring at the ceiling.Just like his father.
Big.Strong.Hungry.
She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face.Where could she go?Where could she hide with an infant in tow?It wasn’t as if she could just disappear—not with diaper bags, feeding schedules, and that little snort Griff occasionally made when he slept.
It was impossible to plan when she didn’t even know who the enemy was.
She closed her eyes.Just for a moment.Just five minutes.That’s all she needed.Then she’d wake up, make a list, and figure out a plan.A real plan.Something solid.Something that would—
Her thoughts broke apart as sleep overtook her, too sudden to fight.
Azlyn drifted off there on the floor, curled against the front door of her small home, one arm wrapped protectively around her son.
Chapter 17
“Where the hell is she?”Zayn demanded, glaring at his guards.
They stood alert behind him, several more fanned out around the perimeter of the small Chicago house.He’d flown right after watching that video—determined to find Azlyn and confirm whether the tiny baby bundled in that scarf was his.
Assuming she’d returned home after the crash site chaos, he’d ordered his team to drive straight to the address on file.
But no one was answering the door.
“Break it down,” he snapped, then wiggled his fingers at the doorknob with a flick of frustration.“Or just… I don’t know, does anyone know how to pick a damn lock?”
One of his guards immediately stepped forward, pulling a lock-picking kit from one of the many utility pockets on his cargo pants.Of course he had one.These men were always prepared—dressed today in full tactical gear, which wasn’t typical for domestic visits, but Zayn had insisted.
Until he knew the paternity of the child in the video, he wanted them ready for anything.Enemies weren’t just political or foreign.Not anymore.Whatever had happened at that crash site was no accident—and if someone had killed Olivia, Azlyn could be next.
He shifted his weight, jaw clenched, watching the guard work two wire-thin tools into the lock.A few tense seconds later, there was a soft click—but the door didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong now?”Zayn growled.
Two guards leaned in and gave the door a solid push.Nothing.Not even a creak.
“Stop!”came a voice from inside the house—familiar, furious, and female.
The guards snapped to attention.One even drew his weapon.
“No!”Zayn barked.“Holster it.”He lifted a hand.“Stand down.That’s her.”
And then, over the ringing silence, an unmistakable infant’s wail reached their ears.
“Don’t you dare come through that door!”Azlyn shouted.“I have a gun, and Iwillshoot anyone who steps into my house!”
Zayn’s stomach dropped, but he kept his tone steady.His guards were frozen, weapons secured but still visibly on edge.
“Azlyn!”he called, stepping closer to the door.“Put the gun away.I’m not here to hurt you—I’m here to protect you.”
There was a long pause.
Then, the edge of a curtain twitched.A single eye peeked through.
Moments later, the door flung open—and she was there.
Before he could process anything else, she was in his arms.Sort of.Zayn reached for her, but the baby wedged against her chest made it impossible to pull her fully in.Still, he gripped her face with both hands, grounding himself in the sight of her flushed cheeks and wide, furious eyes.
She was still wearing that grey-blue scarf contraption, the one she’d turned into a makeshift hammock for the screaming, terrified baby—hisscreaming, terrified baby, if the universe was as cruel and ironic as it tended to be.
