"Yeah."
"It's scary as fuck," he admits.
I chuckle. "I can imagine."
Sean exhales and rubs his face. "You know what would make it less scary? If I could figure out how to change the Omnis' minds about Fiona."
My gut drops. "I can't believe they're going to make her marry Kirill."
He shakes his head, eyes tight. "Zara and I have tried everything. They won't budge. They want my sister as queen and tied to Kirill."
Kirill's scarred face appears. I wrinkle my nose. "He's not her type at all."
Sean paces a few steps, his jaw clenched. "If I push any harder, they'll think I'm questioning the table. I can't afford that now that the babies are here."
I lean forward, forearms on my knees, adding, "Imagine how Fiona's going to feel when she finds out you promised her to him."
He stops dead, then snaps, "Don't say it like that."
"How else am I supposed to say it? You agreed to it," I remind him.
His nostrils flare. "I didn't have a choice, Brax. They were going to kill Zara. What the fuck was I supposed to do?"
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, cracking a knuckle. "I know. Doesn't change the fact Fiona's going to lose her mind when she finds out."
He grimaces. "That's why I need your help keeping her calm."
I grunt. "I don't know how to do that."
"Do what?" Zara asks, and the women appear without the babies.
"Help Fiona stay calm," Sean states, with fresh guilt on his expression.
Zara's quickly matches his. She pins her eyebrows together, biting her lip.
Valentina's phone twists on the table, rattling against the wood. She grabs it. Her happy expression disappears.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Time to go," she informs.
I groan. "I just got back in town."
She shrugs. "I don't make the agenda."
"So I'm told," I mutter, and head toward the door, calling back, "You two make beautiful babies."
"Thanks," Zara says.
"Stay safe," Sean adds in a warning tone.
I glance back. "Later."
Valentina and I step into the hallway. Brutal silence forms, but it's nothing new. It's been months of silencing, distancing, and avoiding anything that breaks open the cracks between us.
She keeps her gaze fixed ahead. Her heels click softly on the marble.
I shove my hands in my pockets, my pulse hammering harder than it should. There's so much to say, but I don't know how to bring any of it up without her shutting down. And as much as she wants to pretend things are fine, I know they aren't.
