The pain doesn’t ease. My heart keeps stuttering in my chest, and the tingling in my arm has spread to my jaw. I know what that means. I know enough about heart attacks to recognize the symptoms even though I’m only twenty-five and this isn’t supposed to happen yet.
But here I am, on my knees in my bedroom, possibly dying because I was too stubborn to tell anyone about my condition.
The thought cuts through the physical agony. Dad doesn’t know. Donovan doesn’t know. Samantha sure as hell doesn’t know. They’re all going to wake up and find my body, and they’ll have no idea why because I kept this secret like it was something I could handle alone.
I should have told them.
The regret is almost worse than the pain crushing my chest.
My vision narrows to a pinpoint. The wheezing sound I hear takes a moment to register as coming from my own throat. I try to stand, to get to the bed, to do anything except die on the floor like this.
My legs won’t work.
I pitch forward, catching myself on one hand while the other presses against my chest like I can physically hold my heart together. The irregular beating feels like it’s tearing itself apart inside my rib cage.
This is it. This is how I die.
Alone in my room while everyone sleeps, drowning in my own pride.
I think about Samantha, who just confessed everything to us and submitted to our punishment. She’s finally starting to believe we’re keeping her, and now one of the men who claimed her is going to be gone. She’ll wake up, and I’ll be dead, and she’ll think it’s somehow her fault.
I think about the baby she’s carrying that might be mine. I’ll never meet them or teach them to ski or tell them about their grandmother.
I think about Dad and Donovan, who just dealt with Samantha’s betrayal and are trying to figure out how to handle Robert and Volkov. Now they’ll have to deal with this too, and it’s my fault for hiding it.
My chest seizes again. This time, I can’t hold back the sound that tears from my throat, raw and agonized.
“Kai?”
Dad’s voice. He’s in my doorway, and I manage to lift my head enough to see him. His face goes white when he sees me collapsed on the floor.
He’s beside me in seconds, hands checking my pulse while his eyes scan my face with fear I’ve never seen there before. “What’s happening?”
“Heart.” The word barely makes it out. “Can’t breathe.”
He’s already dialing his phone, his other hand pressed against my chest. “Dr. Morrison, this is Grant Hale. I need you at the estate now. My son is having a cardiac episode.”
The room spins faster. Dad’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater, even though he’s right here. I want to tell him I’m sorry. Sorry for hiding this. Sorry for being too stubborn to askfor help. Sorry for doing this when we’re already dealing with everything else.
But words won’t come.
My body goes limp. Consciousness slips away like water through my fingers. The last thing I see is Dad’s face hovering above mine with absolute terror written across it.
He’s shouting for Donovan now, and I can feel him shaking me, or maybe that’s my body convulsing.
Then there’s nothing but pain and darkness and the distant sound of voices I can’t quite hear anymore.
I’m dying.
35
GRANT
Donovan shakesme awake at three fifteen in the morning.
“Dad. Something’s wrong with Kai.”
I’m out of bed before he finishes the sentence, my mind already running through possibilities while my body moves on autopilot. Samantha stirs beside me but doesn’t wake, and I leave her there as I follow Donovan down the hallway toward Kai’s room.
