But something tells me this is bigger than Logan. The fear in her voice wasn’t about an ex-boyfriend. It was about something that genuinely terrifies her.
I sit at my desk and pull up my secure contacts. The investigator who handles sensitive matters for the family. The one who doesn’t ask questions and doesn’t leave trails.
I type out a message.
Me: Need a comprehensive background on Samantha Allen. Previous investigation was surface level. Go deeper. Family connections, friends, any communications from the past year. Focus on her stepfather Robert and any Chicago contacts. Also check if she’s been in communication with Logan Hale. I need to know who she’s talking to and what she’s hiding.
The response comes within minutes.
Davis: Understood. I’ll have preliminary information within 48 hours. Full report by end of week.
Me: Make it 24 hours for preliminary. This is priority.
Davis: Done.
I set down the phone and lean back in my chair.
I don’t want to spy on the woman carrying my child. Don’t want to investigate someone I’m falling in love with. But I also can’t ignore the evidence in front of me.
She lied about the phone call. Lied to my face without hesitation, which means she’s been lying about other things too.
Her relationship with Logan never made sense. She’s too smart, too capable, too interesting to have stayed with him through multiple instances of cheating. People don’t tolerate that level of disrespect unless they’re getting something else out of the relationship.
What was she getting?
Access to the family? Information? Something else entirely?
And who is she reporting to?
I pull up the background check we did when she first arrived. It’s clean.
I need to know what she’s hiding before this goes any further. Before the baby comes and binds us together permanently.
Because if she’s a threat to my family, I need to neutralize that threat.
Even if it destroys me to do it.
26
DONOVAN
Two days before Christmas,I find myself googling “what to expect when pregnant” at two in the morning.
I stare at the search results for exactly thirty seconds before closing the browser.
This isn’t me. I don’t panic-research on the internet like some anxious teenager. I hire experts. I delegate. I handle problems through systematic analysis and strategic planning.
But Samantha is pregnant, and I have no idea what that actually means beyond the obvious biological facts.
I lean back in my chair and rub my face.
The truth is, I’m terrified. Not of the baby. Not of becoming a father. But of this feeling in my chest that won’t go away.
I’m in love with her.
The realization still catches me off guard, even though it’s been weeks since that night I held her while she slept. Since I asked Kai to explain what love feels like, and he told me I was already experiencing it.
He was right.
