I pulled out my phone and called Boris.
Whatever it took, I'd find the truth.
Three days later,Boris finally made it to San Francisco and caught the real culprit at an underground casino.
The interrogation room reeked of blood and fear.
The man we'd grabbed was named Marcus. Big build, brown hair. Right now, he was strapped to a chair, shaking all over. His face already showed several bruises—clearly Boris's men had welcomed him properly.
"Name," I said.
"M-Marcus..." he stammered, forehead drenched in cold sweat.
"Marcus," I repeated the name. "Tell me—who sent you to beat that male nurse?"
His eyes flickered. "I-I don't know what you're talking about..."
I didn't speak. Just lightly drew my knife across the back of his hand. A line of blood appeared. He gasped in pain.
"You know I can do much worse," I said calmly. "Who?"
"Okay! Okay! I'll talk!" He finally cracked, voice so shrill it nearly broke. "It was Mr. Dante! Julian Dante sent me!"
My hand stopped.
I'd suspected it, but hearing the name from the killer's own mouth sent my bloodlust straight to my skull. "Details," I commanded, voice low as a beast's growl.
"He—he had me impersonate you," Marcus said, voice shaking. "Black coat, Russian accent. Find the nurse who delivered the scarf. Beat him within an inch of his life. He said—he said he wanted your woman to hate you completely, to never believe another word you said..."
I stared at him, gaze sharp as a poisoned blade.
"What else?"
"Mr. Dante—he's been targeting that woman from the start! He knew she was your wife, knew she—knew she was carrying your child, so he deliberately got close to her!"
My movement stopped abruptly.
"What did you say?" My voice changed. Even I could hear the tremor in it. "What child?"
Marcus flinched at my suddenly altered tone and stammered. "That woman, Harper... she has a child, born in November..."
My brain felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.
Buzzing filled my ears. The world lost all sound in that moment.
Harper had a child. She didn't leave alone—she left with my flesh and blood.
She left New York pregnant, bore everything alone. Her brother's death, the pain of my betrayal, the hardship of pregnancy, the danger of childbirth...
And what was I doing? I didn't even fucking know she was pregnant.
A bitter sensation surged from my chest, lodged in my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. I gripped the chair back, knuckles white from pressure.
"Keep talking," I said, voice so hoarse it didn't sound like mine. "What's Julian planning to do to them?"
Marcus saw my expression turn terrifying and shook harder.
"He-he said that woman was a good bargaining chip... could use her to threaten you, deal with you, even make you hand over your New York territory. As for the child..."
