“I don’t know. What day is it?”
“Sam.” He squeezes my hand weakly. “You can’t sit here forever beating yourself up over something that’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault. The stress I caused with everything?—”
“Stop.” He cuts me off with more force than I’d expect from someone who nearly died. “I’ve had this condition for over a year. I’ve been hiding it and refusing treatment because I’m a stubborn idiot who thought I could handle it alone. This was always going to happen eventually, and it has nothing to do with you.”
“But the timing?—”
“The timing is just timing. If anything, maybe this is good because now everyone knows, and I can actually get proper treatment instead of taking pills under a fake name like some kind of drug addict.” He shifts slightly in the bed and winces. “Besides, you want to talk about stress? Try watching my father fighting with Logan, or dealing with Donovan when he’s in one of his moods. That’s stress.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“A little.”
“Good. Because I need you to stop looking at me like I’m about to die. The sad face is depressing.”
He pauses, studying my expression. “Sam, you should know—you’re a terrible spy.” He says it with such genuine amusement that I actually laugh despite the tears streaming down my face.“Like, genuinely awful at this. You were supposed to destroy us, and instead you’re sitting here crying because I had a heart attack and blaming yourself for everything that’s ever gone wrong in the history of the world.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You’re worse. You couldn’t even take the abortion pills. You just hid them in a drawer and hoped the problem would solve itself.” He shakes his head slowly. “If Robert wanted a competent operative, he chose the wrong person.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny. In a tragic, completely fucked up kind of way.” He squeezes my hand again. “Listen to me. What happened with Robert and your mother and all of that, that’s not your fault. He manipulated you when you were grieving and vulnerable, and he used your pain as a weapon. But you figured it out, and you chose us over him. That’s what matters.”
“I still lied to you for months.”
“Yeah, and we punished you for that. Extensively, remember?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are we done now? Can we move forward?”
“I don’t know if it’s that simple.”
“It is that simple. You trust us to handle Robert, and we trust you to never lie to us again. That’s the deal.” His expression grows more serious. “Can you do that? Can you trust us?”
“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. “I trust you.”
“Good. Because whatever my dad and Donovan are planning for Robert, it’s not going to be pretty. And you need to be okay with that.”
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Grant walks in with Donovan behind him. They both stop when they see Kai awake, and something like relief crosses Grant’s face before his expression smooths into calm control.
“You’re awake.” Grant moves to the other side of the bed, his hand immediately going to check Kai’s pulse even though the monitors are right there. “How do you feel?”
“Like I should have told you about my heart condition six months ago.” Kai’s voice is dry. “Before you say it, yes, I’m an idiot, and yes, I’m sorry.”
“We’ll discuss that later.” Grant’s tone makes it clear that the discussion will not be pleasant. “Right now, we need to talk about Robert.”
My stomach drops. “What about him?”
Grant looks at me directly. “He’s been texting you asking for the information he demanded. We need to respond, but it has to come from your phone to maintain the illusion that you’re still cooperating.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you have the offshore account information he wanted, and you need to meet in person to hand it over safely.” Grant’s expression is cold in a way that makes me shiver. “We’re going to lure him here and end this permanently.”
“Here? To the estate?”
