But she wouldn’t win with me.
Because I was the one who had taught her how.
She spoke in that overly sweet, high-pitched voice—feminine to the point of infantilized. Like a little girl playing innocent in front of the executioner. “Yoursons are fine.”
I frowned. “We don’t know if they’re mine.”
I knew those words cut her cleaner than a blade ever could. But I needed to say them. Not for Kiko, but for Nyomi.
Because truth mattered.
Sighing again, Kiko returned her voice to normal, telling me that I had knocked her off her little game. “These precious babies growing within my womb are yours. I feel this deep in my heart and soul.”
Hiro’s voice cut in from behind. “But they could be mine too.”
Like a bomb dropped, the whole room detonated into reactions. My Fangs and Claws snickered. Many Scales exchanged glances with others. It was clear this gossiped theory had reached many ears.
However, Kiko’s crew turned in unison—snapping their heads toward Hiro like a flock of startled birds. Even Tet, still backed against the wall and dripping sweat, blinked at him with disbelief.
Aww. She didn’t tell you that she fucked us both in the same week?
I checked my Tiger. Nyomi’s eyes had gone wide and her mouth was parted. For a few seconds, she flicked her attention between Hiro and Kiko, then over to me, and blinked.
I put my view back on my Ear, ready to end this conversation.
Kiko’s lips parted, but no sound came out. No denial. No scolding. Just a tight, stunned little breath that gave her away more than words ever could. And then she slowly turned toward him, eyes wide, fury and fear dancing in her lashes. “K-kenji. . .can we speak alone?”
“We cannot.”
Hiro chuckled. “As the possible father, I definitely think I should be present. In fact, should we call other men in this room too? There has to be at least three more guys that dropped a load in you that month.”
Kiko’s entire face crumbled into rage. “They’re not yours—”
“How do you know?” Hiro’s words were calm. “It was twice. Right?”
“They’re not yours. A woman knows.” Kiko jabbed her finger his way. “And you don’t get to talk to me that way!”
“Hmmm,” Hiro said. “Perhaps, we don’t count the second time. You swallowed.”
The twins coughed, yet I knew they were holding back laughter.
“You are disgusting!” Kiko spat.
“How am I disgusting? I didn’t tell you to swallow,” Hiro barked back. “Wait. Maybe I did tell you to swallow.”
The room erupted in low, strangled laughter—half of it shocked, the other half uncontainable.
I looked back at them.
They went dead silent.
I returned my attention to Kiko.
She was trembling now. Hands on her belly. Eyes darting. A woman used to control, realizing the script had flipped. Realizing a large amount of the audience no longer believed her performance.
And worst of all, realizing the spotlight was no longer hers.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “If the babies are fine, then you shouldn’t be standing in front of me.”
