"You took care of her," Vadim says, his voice echoing strangely. "You did well."
I try to nod, but my head is secured in place. "She didn't know," I mumble through broken teeth. "About what I was doing."
Vadim shakes his head. "Mothers always know, little brother."
"She had that instinct," I agree, tasting copper. "That I was in bad business. But I made sure she had everything. The best care. I paid for everything."
Mother steps forward, her expression softening into the one I remember from childhood. "Kirill," she whispers, "open your mouth. You know I don't allow cursing in this house." Her hand extends toward my face. "You need to eat this. To clean your soul."
I feel hands, real hands, prying my jaw open. Anton comes into view, and he speaks to me. "This ends now. She never has to feel this again."
Pain detonates, blinding, absolute. I scream, but no sound comes. Blood floods my mouth, hot and metallic, pouring down my throat faster than I can choke it back.
I convulse against the restraints, lungs burning as I drown in myself.
When Anton stands upright again, he places something wet and bloody into Lorenzo's waiting hand.
My tongue.
Lorenzo examines it dispassionately, like a butcher inspecting an organ before discarding it.
Panic seizes me as I struggle for air. My lungs burn. My chest heaves against the restraints.
The darkness pulls at me, stronger than before.
The room fades. My body fights for air it can't find.
The darkness closes in, heavier than before. Final.
I let it take me.
Chapter 24
For Keeps
Fee:
I watch Moira smile as Eden checks her vitals, her hand protectively curved over her baby bump.
"Blood pressure's completely normal," Eden confirms, her warm gaze on Moira as she removes the blood pressure cuff from her arm. She looks at the baby's monitor. "Baby's heart rate is perfect, too."
The three families had the entire floor secured after everything happened. There are Basov, Carlucci, and Quinn guards everywhere in this hospital wing.
"I was so terrified, it felt as if I was having the baby early. The contractions were so strong," Moira says.
"There are no signs of contractions. But you've started dilating already. You'll need to be monitored every other day until delivery." Eden glances at her tablet. "At thirty-two and a half weeks, we want to keep this little one cooking for at least another four weeks, if possible."
I try to focus on their conversation, but my brain feels like it's been run through a blender and poured back into my skull.
Eden hangs her stethoscope around her neck. "The doctor is going to put some restrictions on what you can and cannot do."
Moira groans, her hand still curved protectively over her bump. "Bed rest?"
"Probably limited activity at minimum. No stairs, no lifting, nothing that could trigger contractions or raise your blood pressure. That includes sex."
Moira sighs dramatically. "Lorenzo is going to lose his mind over this no-sex rule." Her hand traces gentle circles over her belly. "That man is insatiable."
Eden laughs. "He'll survive. Though when you hit thirty-eight weeks, and we're still waiting for this little one to make an appearance, sex would actually help get things going."
