Page 45 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

“I can handle it.”

“You might get hurt⁠—”

“I said, I can handle it.” This time, my voice is sharp enough to leave no room for argument. I look over my shoulder at Cesc, who comes to a halt just behind me, eyeing me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

And it might be a shock, coming to know this part of me. But this is the part of me I need right now, the one willing to fight for what is right, the one willing to kill if it means giving my child a chance at life. I might not have expected to be a father again, not after everything that happened with Andreo, but now that the chance has arisen, I’m not going to fumble it. I refuse to. I have a glimmer of hope for a future that I would never have been able to imagine, and I will not let anything in the world stand in the way of it.

I step out into the cold, clear air and make my way back to the car, already planning my attack. I know I have the element of surprise on my side, which is something, but I have no idea if it will be enough to stop Andreo.

There’s still a part of me that wants to believe I can get my son out of this alive, but I know I have to let go of that if I stand a chance in taking him down. It might be hard to wrap my head around, but my son is gone, at least the one that I raised as a worthy heir to my business, the one that I have poured all my care and attention into.

And the man who remains?

The man who remains is in my fucking way.

24

JULIA

When I first hear the noise outside the room, I barely even raise my head.

Why should I? There’s nothing worth getting out of bed for, anyway.

I’ve been hiding out in this room for what feels like a lifetime now, though it can’t have been more than a day. I just can’t stand the thought of having to look at Andreo, knowing what he has planned for me and this child, the sheer horror of realizing everything he intends to inflict on us.

Because I want to believe that he can’t be serious about it. He never showed any interest in being a father during the time we were together, not in any meaningful way, at least, and it’s hard to believe that it would have changed since he has abandoned his own family and turned his back on everything he knew.

But I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not about being a father in his own right, no—that would be too easy for him. This is something much, much darker.

He wants to take something from Antonio, from me, steal the one thing that speaks to our connection and corrupt and poison it beyond all recognition. That’s his game, as twisted as it is, as sick as it makes me to imagine what he will do given the chance.

I clutch my belly again, trying to remind myself that none of it has actually happened yet. Which…which is what matters, right? I have to believe that.

As long as the child is not out there in the world, then there’s a chance I can turn this around. There has to be. And even if Andreo somehow manages to keep me here beyond the day when they’re born, I’ll still be an influence on their life, right? I mean, it’s not like he can just shut me out entirely. I can try to teach them how to be a good person, the kind of person I could be proud of…

But at the back of my mind, something else is nagging at me. I can’t stop thinking about my own parents, and how poisonous they became just putting up with each other. What if that happens to me too? What if I become infected by resentment to Andreo to the point that I can’t hide it from my child? That’s the part that terrifies me the most, the part that I’m struggling to make sense of. I have always sworn to myself that I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure my child has a better life than me, but that desicion, it seems, has been wrested away from me whether I want to admit it or not, and I have to contend with what’s left behind in its wake.

But the noise sounds against from outside the room, and this time, bleary, I lift my head to see what might be causing it. It sounds almost like a banging—not like a banging on the bedroom door, there would be no need for that, anyway, since Andreo has been letting himself come and go as he pleases since we got here. I’ve even woken a couple of times to find him standing over the bed and watching me, the chill of his gaze on me at my most vulnerable enough to make my hair stand on end.

No, this sounds as if it’s coming from outside the apartment.

But…nobody knows we’re here, right? I haven’t heard the movement of any neighbors in the apartments below, so I just assumed that we were the only ones in here. Did one of them hear me in here, wonder what was going on?

I swing my legs out of bed, pricking up my ears, praying that I’m going to get some kind of break from this nightmare, if only for a moment. There’s no way that Andreo will be able to keep up the front with a normal person there before him, I’m sure of it, and maybe⁠—

And then a huge crash explodes through the quiet air, and I spring back toward the bed, clamping a hand over my mouth in shock. What the hell is happening? I press my ear to the door, trembling, forcing myself to stand my ground.

Is it…?

“Where is she?”

I collapse to the ground as soon as I hear his voice.

I know that voice. I would know it anywhere.

It’s Antonio.

He’s alive.