“You know I have hands, right?” I say around a strawberry.
“Yeah. But mine are bigger.” He pops a grape into my mouth. “And I like doing this.”
My throat tightens. “You’re too good to me.”
“Nah. I’m exactly as good as you deserve.” He feeds me another strawberry. “Which is pretty fucking good, if I’m being honest.”
I laugh and settle deeper into his chest. Let him feed me chips, cookies, and pieces of melon while we sit in silence.
He feeds me the last cookie and sets the tray aside. Then he just holds me, his hand resting on my stomach where our baby grows.
25
GHOST
The envelope sits in the center of Ash’s desk like a live grenade.
White. Standard size. Nothing special about it except for what’s inside.
The answer to the question that’s been eating at all of us.
I stand near the window, arms crossed, watching Bonnie. She’s perched on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tight in her lap. Her knuckles are white. She hasn’t looked away from that envelope since Dr. Wise’s courier delivered it ten minutes ago.
Ash sits behind his desk, staring at it too. His jaw works like he’s chewing on words he won’t say out loud.
Titan leans against the wall beside the door, arms crossed over his chest. His usual grin is gone. He’s as tense as the rest of us.
Nobody moves. Nobody speaks. The envelope just sits there.
“Someone should open it,” Bonnie says finally. Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Yeah.” Ash doesn’t reach for it.
More silence.
I run through the scenarios in my head. Military training kicking in—analyze all possible outcomes, prepare for each one.
Scenario A:It’s mine. I’m the biological father. Bonnie’s carrying my child. My DNA. My responsibility.
Scenario B:It’s Ash’s. He’s already her husband. The baby being his makes the most sense politically. Strengthens his position as president.
Scenario C:It’s Titan’s. The oldest of us. The most experienced with violence and protection. Not a bad father to have.
Scenario D:It’s none of ours. It’s Marcus Stone’s. The nightmare scenario. The one that changes everything.
I watch Bonnie’s face, trying to read which outcome she’s hoping for. But her expression gives nothing away. She just stares at that envelope like it might explode.
Maybe it will.
“I’ll do it,” Ash says. He reaches for the envelope.
Bonnie sucks in a breath. Holds it.
Titan shifts his weight. The floorboard creaks.
I don’t move.
Ash tears open the envelope. The sound is loud in the quiet office. He pulls out a single sheet of paper. His eyes scan the text.
