Chapter Sixteen
Mason
I frown at the drink and lift it back to my lips.
After downing another glass, I gesture to the nearest waitress.
In the background, voices float in and out of focus, punctuated by the occasional thump of the music.
Now and again, a laugh draws my attention, and I glance up to see one of the girls leading a client away, the two of them drunk on the promise of the night.
Idiots.
They have no idea what’s waiting for them.
None of them do.
You don’t believe London did any of this on purpose, do you? You’ve only been together a few months, and she knows you can’t promise her a family.
Except I had known when I laid eyes on her that it was something she wanted.
Her years with Noah together meant she wasn’t afraid of commitment. I want to kick myself for not being more careful, but I also want to blame London.
How could she not have noticed?
And why in the fuck didn’t she tell me sooner?
I have half a mind to storm back down there and demand answers, but I know it won’t get either of us anywhere.
With a grunt, I sink lower into my booth and snatch the drink before the waitress sets it on the table. I down the one in my hand and wince at the burn. Then, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. My fingers hover over Carlisle’s name as my thoughts clamor over each other.
My right-hand man can’t do anything unless he can convince London to go to Doctor Shepard.
Carlisle is a man of many skills, but I doubt this is one of them.
My headache has spread to the rest of my head, making spots dance in my vision. I stand up and push back against a wave of nausea. Then I place one foot in front of the other until I’m back in the office. When the door creaks open, I’m not surprised London isn’t there.
Why would she be when I was the one who stormed out?
She’s had time to wrap her head around all this, and she should’ve offered you the same courtesy. There is nothing wrong with the way you reacted.
Guilt and frustration rise within me as I sit behind my desk and prop up my feet.
When Katia finds me, I’m still rubbing my temples and muttering to myself. She lingers in the doorway, half-hidden in the shadows. I lower my feet to the floor. She doesn’t move, but the weight of her gaze is inescapable.
Is she here to read me the riot act?
I don’t know how or when Katia developed a fondness for London, but each day it’s proven more of a nuisance.
She’s my assassin, and she’s here to do what I tell her to, not braid hair and gossip.
“Either say what you came to say, or make yourself useful,” I say hoarsely. I pause to clear my throat and level her with a cold look. “What’s happening with Lond’s parents?”
I still have no idea how they managed to give Nadia the slip.
Katia steps into the office, her face still giving nothing away. “Nothing unusual. Nadia is keeping a closer eye out.”
“Good. She better not slip up again.”
Because I have no idea how many more eyes and ears my enemies have within these walls.
I hate second-guessing myself and operating in the darkness, but with Oliver’s betrayal still casting a long shadow over everything, I don’t have a choice.
We’re already on very thin ice, and the last thing we need is more missteps.
Like them learning that London is carrying the heir to the Payne empire.
Goddamn it.
I push my chair back and stand up. “Make sure the cook is feeding London well. She needs her strength.”
Katia frowns. “She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”
I step out from behind the desk and smooth out my shirt. “That’s not acceptable. Make sure he makes her that mixed fried rice and chicken she likes.”
“She either won’t eat or she can’t keep it down.”
I reach for the glass nearest to me and pause. “Bring me Doctor Shepard.”
Katia doesn’t reply.
I grip the glass tighter. “I know you’re not fucking deaf, Katia, so either bring me the doctor or I’ll have someone else do it.”
Katia studies me, her expression cool and detached. “I’ll bring you the doctor, but I think you should take a minute first.”
I stride angrily over to her. “Excuse me?”
Katia doesn’t flinch. “It’s been a long night. I think it would be wise to—”
I cut off the rest of her sentence by slamming her into the nearest wall and baring my teeth. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”
Katia’s hands hang limply at her sides. “You used to value my opinion.”
I growl. “That was before I found out how easy you are to sway. Who knew all it would take was one tiny blonde?”
Katia looks into my eyes, emotions dancing across her face. “We both know it’s not me you’re pissed at.”
I whip out the knife tucked in my sock and press it against her throat. “You aren’t here to psychoanalyze me. You’re my assassin.”
Why can’t anyone fall in line like there’s supposed to? Why does every problem I deal with only lead to a bigger fire?
Katia nods slowly and holds her arms away from her body. “I am, but I’m also one of the few people you can talk to right now.”
I press the knife tighter and think past the thundering in my ears.
I want someone, anyone, to bleed. Anything to take my mind off the knots forming in my stomach and the dread settling in my chest.
Hurting Katia won’t solve my problems.
It’ll make you feel better to draw some blood, and you know it. It’s always worked before.
I grunt and release her. She touches two fingers to her neck, and I catch a glimpse of the angry welt there before she shakes her hair out, and it forms a curtain between us.
I stare at her. “How long have you known?”
“Does it matter?”
“I was under the impression you were loyal to me,” I continue. “Clearly, I was mistaken.”
“This is between you and London,” Katia replies calmly. “It wasn’t my place to interfere.”
I snort and turn away. As much as I hate to admit it, Katia is right. I was just as likely to have her head on a platter as listen to her if she’d come to me first.
Silence settles around me, but it does little to drown out the roar in my head.
What the fuck am I supposed to do about all this?
London has made sure there’s only one option, hasn’t she? It’s not too late. There’s still some time.
I’m grasping at straws. I can’t make London get rid of the baby without her consent, and I hate that she’s forced my hand in this way.
Before I know what I’m doing, I throw the office door open and stride out, pushing past clients and women until I reach the back door. I step out into the brisk night air, inhale, and hold my breath. Katia matches my strides, apprehension crossing her face as we step into the manor.
I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the top.
I’m panting when I make it to my wing and see the door slightly ajar.
Through the crack, I spot London on the bed, puffy-eyed and curled into a ball. Her shoulders heave, and I move toward her, but Katia reaches out to stop me. I hold my breath when London flips onto her back. A few moments later, her breathing turns even, and she goes still.
I let my eyes sweep over her, and some of the earlier anger and frustration melt away.
I still want to shake some sense into her.
But goddamn if I don’t love her and want to offer her the world.
“It’s been hard on her,” Katia says as I move to face her. She withdraws her hand, and we’re standing across from each other. “I’m sure you can imagine.”
“She should’ve told you,” Katia adds. “I’ve told her as much, but she had her reasons, and with everything else going on, you can’t blame her for trying to give you one less thing to deal with. I can’t say I agree with the decision, but I understand why.”
I huff and turn her words over in my head.
Would it have been better if she had told me, and I had been forced to carry the truth around while dealing with Noah’s father and the city inspector?
She was trying to do you a favor.
I let one arm fall to my side. “We both know what happens if she keeps the baby.”
Katia nods.
“They’ll have a target on their back from their first breath,” I continue. “That’s if they make it that far. I have no fucking clue how she managed to keep it a secret for so long…”
I suspect my assassin had something to do with it.
Katia is one of the most skilled killers in our world, but she also knows how to handle the more delicate matters.
There’s no one else I trust to keep this under wraps.
For a moment, I’m thankful that London had enough common sense to bring Katia into the loop.
As far as confidantes go, she could’ve done worse.
I clear my throat. “You know better than most what our world is like. She can’t keep the baby.”
Katia studies me. “Are you prepared to give her up?”
“No.”
I can’t even handle the thought, much less imagine it.
You’d really force her to stay by your side and give up one more thing to stay together? How many more things do you think she’ll give up before she’s had enough?
I’m not sure I can make her do what needs to be done.
I don’t even know if I want to.
Fucking hell.
The look on her face when she told me replays on a loop in my head as I turn away from Katia and stare at London through the crack in the door with warring emotions.
I keep seeing her tear-filled eyes and the quiver of her lips, and it makes me feel worse.
Like I’m the monster everyone thinks I am.
“You need to talk to her,” Katia says finally, her voice jolting me out of my reprieve. She’s looking at London, too. “Whatever you two decide, you need to do it quickly.”
My chest is tight again as I turn away from London and storm back down the stairs.
This time, Katia doesn’t follow me outside.
My mood darkens when I reach the back door and look into the scanner. I hold out my arm, and a moment later, the door hisses open. I step into the shadows, and the smell of alcohol and perfume hits me. I continue forward until I’m in a hallway that spills out onto the main floor.
Somewhere to my left, a senator groans in pain and pleasure.
The sight of so much pleasure and depravity doesn’t give me the power and high it usually does.
I lean against the nearest wall, fold my arms over my chest, and watch.