Chapter Nine
London
“Having that politician show up is a setback, but at least you got the message across.” Olivia stabs her eggs and lifts the fork to her mouth. “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, but we’re getting somewhere.”
“Are you sure Noah’s father didn’t see anything he shouldn’t have?”
Noah Sr. has already caused more trouble in two days than in the entire time I’ve known him.
I hate that he’s planted another seed of doubt between Mason and me, but I know it’s not entirely his fault.
Noah’s father saw an opening and took it, but I have no one to blame but myself for the growing distance between Mason and I.
I know I need to come clean and leave him to deal with everything.
It’s the right thing to do, and now that my circumstances have changed, I have to stop being reckless.
I can’t bring myself to leave Olivia to her own devices, not just yet.
Not when it feels this good to have some sort of control.
I feel an almost pathological urge to see it through.
With Mason watching even more closely, I know time is running out.
He’s not wrong for wanting to keep you safe. You’re just annoyed because he isn't being unreasonable—you’re the one being reckless. You’re taking too big a risk.
I’m supposed to be the level-headed one.
I’m supposed to find a way out that doesn’t involve scheming and back-alley deals.
I’m not even sure what the hell I’m doing, or what I’m hoping to accomplish, because the deeper I get sucked in, the more I realize how ridiculous it all is.
Olivia means well, but her history with one of the warring families won’t be enough to make a dent, much less end the war.
Unless there’s something she isn’t telling you…
Olivia shoves a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I know it isn’t your fault, but look, we just need to cool our heels for a few days. I’ve got another plan, just in case this didn’t work out. It’s riskier, and it will take longer, but it beats the alternative.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
Olivia picks up her plate of half-eaten food and takes it to the sink. “It means no more playing dress-up until I know what’s happening.”
A lump rises in my throat. “I see.”
“Look at the bright side, at least Mason will be off your case for a bit.”
“What about…you know who?” I press. “She’s not going to get in any trouble or anything, is she?”
Olivia shakes her head. “She can handle herself, don’t worry.”
I move toward her, the marble kitchen counter still between us. “Alright. Why don’t you and I go anyway? Blow off some steam.”
“Everyone is on high alert,” Olivia says, “so I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Sorry.”
The protest dies on my lips as Olivia’s phone rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket.
She offers me a sympathetic smile and leaves the kitchen.
Once she’s gone, I walk over to one of the counters and reach for the coffee pot. I curl my fingers around the mug and take a few sips. Then, I shift so I’m standing closer to the window with a few particles of late-morning sun warming the bridge of my nose.
Without Olivia, I don’t have a hope of seeing Miss Deveroux without a good excuse.
You do not need to talk to her. The less you say for now, the better.
Miss Deveroux might be the only person who knows the truth about my pregnancy, but it doesn’t mean I should spill my heart out to her.
I don’t even know how I feel about the whole thing.
I finish half of my coffee before my stomach grumbles. Slowly, I pour the contents of my cup down the drain and hang my head. After several deep breaths, I bolt up the stairs and into Mason’s bathroom, where I empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
My throat is still burning when I cup my hands together under the faucet to rinse my mouth with some water.
Tears stream down my face as I place one hand on either side of the sink. I lower my head and take several more breaths. When it no longer feels like my lungs are on fire, I push myself off the sink, turn on the shower, and wait for the water to heat up.
Then, I scrub my skin raw and let my mind wander.
You need to make a decision, London. Help Olivia or back out. Keep the baby or give it up. One way or another, these things are going to catch up to you.
Guilt, frustration, and uncertainty are gnawing at me when I turn off the water and secure the towel around me.
I use the back of my hand to wipe steam from the mirror and stare at my reflection, but I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me with dark circles under her eyes and a flush to her skin.
I let the towel fall and peer at my stomach in the glass.
With a sigh, I bend over to pick up my clothes and nearly fall when I catch sight of the bright smear of blood in my underwear. In a daze, I carry my clothes to the hamper and ignore the hammering in my chest. Then, I dress hurriedly, cross over to the bedroom door, and wrench it open.
Without looking up, Katia continues to examine her blade. “Partying too hard, Blondie? You look like shit.”
“I need a doctor.”
“No can do, Princess. Best I can do is Advil, some water, and maybe a coffee.”
“None of those things will help.”
Katia snorts but still won’t look at me. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“Katia, I don’t want a doctor. I need to see one, so either you figure out a way to get me someone, or I will.”
Katia finally looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Doctor Shepard wanted to look at my wound. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
A short while later, there’s a knock on the door, and Katia motions to me.
In silence, I follow her downstairs and to the restricted area of the manor, walking a long, meandering route until we reach a set of double doors.
I’m momentarily blinded by the fluorescent lights before I make out a hospital bed in one corner, a few machines in the other, and a man with gray hair at his temples in front of me.
He snaps on a pair of latex gloves and nods to Katia. “Ms. Callahan, I understand you wanted to see me.”
I wrap my arms around my stomach. “I... I’m not feeling well.”
Doctor Shepard perches on the stool and nods. “Why don’t you lie down, so we can do a proper exam?”
“I’ll be outside,” Katia says to no one in particular. Once the doors swing shut behind her, I shuffle over to the bed and hop onto the table gingerly as the doctor’s dark eyes move over me.
“I found blood in my underwear a few hours ago,” I begin.
Doctor Shepard motions for me to continue as he unwinds a stethoscope from his neck.
He presses the cold metal against my flushed skin, and a furrow appears between his brows.
Then he picks up the nearest hand and presses two fingers against my wrist. I open and close my mouth several times, losing my nerve each time I come close.
“I’m pregnant,” I say quietly. “At least, I’m pretty sure I am.”
Doctor Shepard draws back and slides the stool across the room. He pulls one of the machines closer and rummages through a drawer. “Let’s take a look.”
I force myself to hold still as he squeezes some gel onto my stomach. Then, he presses a few buttons and places the wand over my center. A long moment passes where nothing happens, then there’s a loud galloping sound filling the room.
“Is that…” I pause as tears fill my eyes. “Is that the heartbeat?”
“You’re about seven weeks along, Ms. Callahan,” Doctor Shepard replies gently. He peers at the screen and pushes a few more buttons. “Everything seems to be good.”
There’s a strange ringing in my ears when he turns the screen toward me. “I… is… they’re healthy?”
Doctor Shepard smiles. “So far, so good.”
I wring my fingers together and look away. “What if I want to… to… take ca—”
Doctor Shepard cuts me off with another press of the button. “You’ve got until you’re twenty-four weeks along to change your mind.”
I swing my gaze back to his. “Okay.”
Doctor Shepard pats my hand and snaps off the gloves. “I’m going to prescribe a multivitamin and a pill to help stop the bleeding. In the meantime, please avoid any high-stress situations.”
I still can’t look him in the eye when he writes something down, rips out the paper, and hands it to me. With a weak smile, I shove it into the pocket of my jeans and slide off the bed. Doctor Shepard crosses the room and knocks on the door to summon Katia.
“Don’t move,” she says tightly. “I’ll be right back.”
I lean against the nearest wall and try not to think about being sick again.
You can’t seriously be thinking of keeping the baby, London. Those are just your hormones talking. That baby deserves a better life, and you know you can’t be the one to give that to them.
Mason is going to think I made this happen on purpose.
It’s bad enough that things are strained between us because of what I’m trying to help Olivia do. I don’t think our relationship can handle the weight of one more secret.
I’m fighting the panic within me when Katia returns with Mason in tow, and I’m forced to summon a smile. “What are you doing here? I told Katia it was nothing to worry about.”
The assassin glances between us and then disappears.
“If it’s nothing, why did you need to see a doctor?”
My heart jumps into my throat. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I like to get regular checkups. It’s not a crime.”
Mason covers the distance between us and frowns. “Then why didn’t you come to me?”
“I…” I trail off, unable to force the words out of my mouth. Finally, I clear my throat and clasp my hands behind my back. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Mason’s expression softens as he reaches for my hand. “I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not your call to make.”
I glance away again. “I know.”
Mason tugs on my hand and leads me back to his room. He waits until I’m inside before slamming the door and turning the lock. He turns around to face me, and I know the look in his eyes.
It’s the same look that would’ve scared the old me, but even though I’m not the same frightened girl anymore, I still feel terrible.
He deserves the truth, London. This should be his decision, too.