Chapter Seventeen
London
“No, please. He’s just a baby.”
“He’s not just any baby. It’s Mason Payne’s son and heir.”
I thrash, but the restraints dig deeper against my skin. “He has nothing to do with any of this. Please.”
The bald man steps forward, holding my baby.
Fear and panic claw their way inside my chest, but I can’t move.
I need to get to my son.
But the harder I struggle against my binds, the more the man laughs.
Suddenly, he pulls the white blanket away and reaches inside.
My heart races as he holds my son up to the dim light, and I see his stormy eyes looking at me.
I thrash again, pausing when I hear a distinct snapping sound.
Searing-hot pain races up my arm, but I push it back and fix my gaze on the man standing a few feet away.
There must be a way to get to him.
The man chuckles and steps closer to me, still holding the baby. The baby begins to cry, each sound a dagger through my heart. I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the moisture slide down my face and onto my shirt.
No, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
And where is Mason?
The man kneels in front of me and holds out the baby. “You have no idea how easy you’ve made all this.”
I whimper when he presses the baby against my chest, and my son’s crying eases. “Just let us go.”
The man throws his head back and laughs, and it sends chills through me. “As long as Mason cooperates, you’ll both be okay. Who would’ve thought it would be a woman who led to Mason Payne’s downfall?”
I glance up at the man. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The Payne empire will fall,” the man continues. “You’re going to help me bring it down.”
I scowl. “I’m not going to do anything for you.”
“You will for the sake of your son.” He steps behind me and undoes my restraints. I lunge for him, but he holds out my baby. He reaches for a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans and holds it up in the pale light of the moon.
I look directly at him. “You won’t kill us.”
The man continues to examine the gun with a smile. “Not yet, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun.”
My baby cries again, and I tentatively reach for him, never taking my eyes off the man’s face.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
Without waiting for a response, he spins on his heels and unlatches the door.
He gives me one last look before he throws the door open, and I catch a glimpse of a hallway with dirty walls before the door slams shut. I hurry to the door and press my ear to it.
There’s nothing but cold silence on the other side.
I press my baby against my chest and sink to the floor. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. Daddy will find us.”
I gasp and bolt upright, my heart racing a million miles a minute.
It takes a minute for me to realize where I am and release my viselike grip on the sheets. I blink, and the room shifts into focus. A cool breeze drifts in through the open window, and moonlight illuminates a soft patch on the rug. Heaving a sigh, I let my hand fall to my stomach.
A few more moments pass while I lay there, drenched in sweat and trying to shake off the cold dread.
It was just a dream. You’re here, and you’re both safe.
But it still takes a few tries to get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. There, I flip on the light and wince. I cup my hands together and splash cold water on my face. After patting my face dry, I grip the sink.
I’m terrified of looking at myself in the mirror, of setting foot outside this room.
You have every right to be afraid. You’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to the kind of danger lurking outside the estate.
It hasn’t been long since Mason’s rescue, and I still wake up in a cold sweat, remembering what it felt like to be locked up in that quiet, damp room.
When I go back into the bedroom, I cup my hand over my stomach and pace.
On my fourth turn, I stop in front of the window and stick my head out.
The cold wind lifts the hair from the nape of my neck and brings tears to my eyes.
Still, I don’t retreat, unsettled by what’s waiting.
Finally, when I start to shiver, I take a few steps back and rub my hands up and down my arms.
I can’t shake the chill that’s settled in my bones.
I keep replaying the nightmare until I feel sick.
I cross over to the door and wrench it open.
I glance down each side of the empty hallway, reaching back inside to retrieve the robe from behind the door. My hands are shaking as I tighten the sash and step into the hallway. Katia steps forward, and her eyes sweep over me.
“Let me guess, you’re going to tell me not to do anything stupid.”
Katia raises an eyebrow. “I’d say we’re way past that point, Blondie.”
“Then you know that you have better things to do than play babysitter,” I say. “I need to find him, Katia. We need to talk.”
She studies me. “You didn’t handle any of this well.”
“I know.”
“He needs time,” Katia says. “The best thing you can do is wait for him to find you.”
“No offense, but this isn’t your call. You have to let me through.”
“I have my orders.”
I throw my arms in the air, and a rush of anger bursts through me. “Like hell you do. You’ve broken the rules for less important reasons. We both know he shouldn’t be off doing… whatever he’s doing to process all of this. He needs me.”
Katia chuckles, irritating me more. “You make a passionate case for yourself, Blondie, but it doesn’t change the facts. I work for him, not you.”
I swallow. “He could be in danger.”
Katia’s expression remains smooth and impassive. “He isn’t.”
“It’s past midnight,” I press. “If anyone else gets wind of this…”
“If I were you,” Katia says, “I’d spend less time worrying about him and more time trying to figure out my next move.”
I reel back as if I’ve been slapped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means.”
“I am not going to get rid of the baby,” I hiss, color creeping up my neck and cheeks. “That isn’t your call.”
Katia frowns. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Blondie. The baby will affect everyone here. It’s not just your call.”
“Fuck you.”
“You can get yourself all worked up if you want, but you know it’s the truth,” she says evenly. “If you won’t give up the baby, you can at least give them a better life.”
“Give them up?”
“Offer them a chance at a good life with someone else,” Katia replies, her expression softening slightly. “You know it’s the right thing to do. They won’t have any future in this world, at least not one where they aren’t hunted.”
I swallow. “But I… it’s my baby.”
“And you have to do right by them.” Katia shakes her head. “Clock’s ticking, Blondie.”
I grab Katia’s arm. “Where is he?”
One by one, she pries my fingers away. “I have no idea, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Neither of you is in a state to talk.”
I grab at her again, but she steps out of reach. “Damn it, Katia. This is humiliating enough. Just let me pass.”
Don’t make me beg, please.
Katia and I aren’t friends, but she’s the closest thing I have to one within these walls.
I know some part of her has sympathy, even if she won’t admit it.
She would’ve sold you out a long time ago, but it doesn’t mean she won’t do it now. Katia might like you now, but it doesn’t mean she’ll keep putting her ass on the line for you.
Especially not with Mason’s father lurking in the shadows.
One wrong move, and Katia will find herself on the receiving end of Jack Payne’s wrath, and there won’t be a thing Mason can do to stop him.
I hate knowing how little control I have over any of this.
“Go back inside, London,” Katia says in a steely voice. “Get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
I try to get past anyway, and she throws out an arm to stop me, drags me back, and stops in the doorway to the room. Then she leans back to look at me, and the gleam in her eyes sends a wave of unease through me.
“You know that I can force you into the room.”
“You won’t, though.”
“Don’t test me, Blondie. Pregnant or not, I will do what needs to be done.”
I shove Katia away. “You’re making things worse.”
“Katia is following orders.” Mason steps out of the shadows, hair in tufts on top of his head, his shirt wrinkled, and his eyes bloodshot. “You should take a page from her book.”
Katia steps back.
I stare after her before turning my attention to Mason. “I was worried about you.”
He grunts and storms past me and into the room.
I step inside after him and let the door close behind me. Mason is wrestling with his tie. With a growl, he rips it free and throws it onto the floor. Then, his fingers move to his pants. They fall into a heap on the floor, and he steps out of them.
Half-naked, he fumbles with the buttons on his shirt.
“Where were you?” I walk up to him, my fingers moving to the first few buttons on his shirt. “I know you need some time to think, and I don’t blame you. It’s a lot to take in.”
Mason’s expression darkens.
I move to the next few buttons, and Mason’s head snaps up. He holds my hands in his as his eyes move over me. Then he leans forward, and I can smell the whiskey on his breath. I remain still as his free hand moves under my shirt and over my bare skin.
Goosebumps break out across my flesh, and I shudder.
“Mason.”
“No talking.” Mason’s mouth is a breath away from mine. “Just be quiet.”
Suddenly, his hands are everywhere, making me feel feverish and desperate. When my robe falls to the floor, and he hoists me up, I wrap my legs around his waist.
Then he’s carrying me to the bed, and I’m raking my nails over his bare back.
I need him to consume me, to drive out every thought and doubt I’ve carried around for weeks.
Mason’s mouth is hot and unyielding, each stroke of his tongue sending another wave of desire through me. He sets me on the bed, and his eyes sweep over me, leaving heat in his wake. In nothing but my bra and panties, I sit up and reach for him.
Mason runs his hands up and down my sides. “Fuck. You have no idea how crazy you make me.”
“I have some idea.”
Mason huffs and leans back to look at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “No, you don’t. I…”
“What’s wrong?”