Chapter 31 Sera
Sera
I've been staring at the same page for twenty minutes.
The manuscript in front of me is beautiful.
Fifteenth century, illuminated margins, gold leaf that still catches the light after five hundred years.
Normally I'd be lost completely in the pages of this.
This type of thing is my dream. The type of manuscript I never thought I'd get my hands on, and yet, I can barely focus on it.
My eyes keep drifting to my phone. To the time. To the blank screen with no new messages.
Adrian always checks in. Always. Even when he's in meetings, he'll send a text. Something short. How are you? How's the baby?
Hell, lately, he'll send something dirty that makes the space between my thighs ache until I'm ready to jump him the moment he walks through the door.
I've become used to him being in constant communication. He never goes an hour without something. And maybe, that's co-dependent, but it's what I've become used to.
Today, nothing. It's been four hours since he left, and I feel like I am going to jump out of my skin. Where the hell is he?
"You're fidgeting."
I look up to find Leo leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with that knowing expression he gets.
"I'm not fidgeting."
"You've picked up that magnifying glass four times and set it back down without using it." He pushes off the doorframe. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just..." I gesture vaguely at the manuscript. "Restless."
"Restless." He studies me. "I've never seen you restless in front of a book."
I roll my eyes. "You don't know me very well."
Leo doesn't crack a smile. "True, but your work focus is admirable and something notable."
I blush at the compliment. Leo isn't one to give them out freely. Still, I can't handle the unease in my stomach.
"Have you heard from Adrian today?" I ask, tapping my fingers against my thigh.
"He's in meetings. These things take time."
"I know. But he always calls."
"He will." Leo's voice is certain. "He's probably just dealing with something that requires his full attention. You know how he gets."
I do. When Adrian is focused on business, everything else fades. We have that in common. But still. The silence feels wrong. Heavy.
"If something happened, his guards would have alerted me."
Unless they were dead.
"Or the car system."
I raise a brow. "I have multiple levels of security on the family. Adrian is in meetings."
I sigh, but I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.
"I need a break," I say, pushing away from the desk. "I need to feel the sun on my face. Breathe fresh air. Something."
Leo's expression shifts immediately. Cautious. "Sera—"
"I'm not asking to leave the property. Just a walk around the garden." I press my hand to my stomach. Our son has been kicking all morning, restless like me. "I feel like I'm going crazy in here."
Leo sighs. I know he doesn't want me to leave the room—it's secure. But Adrian didn't say I was on house arrest, which means there's no reason for me to not go on a walk.
I snort as I see Leo's hesitation. Jesus, my husband is overprotective. "You can stand right next to me if it makes you feel better."
"Thank you."
The garden behind the mansion is my favorite place on the property outside of the nursery and my workroom.
There's something magical about it. Not because of its loveliness but because it really shouldn't exist. Not in Manhattan.
Not surrounded by buildings and noise and chaos.
But somehow, tucked behind high stone walls, there's this pocket of green with roses and jasmine, and large trees that provide shade.
It's beautiful. Peaceful. A little slice of something softer than the world around it.
It's a sign of immense wealth—this much green space in Manhattan, but it's one I've come to particularly enjoy.
Leo opens the door from the kitchen, and I step outside. The afternoon sun is warm on my face. The air smells like earth and flowers and summer.
I close my eyes, breathing deep.
"Better?" Leo asks.
"Much." I move toward the fountain, listening to the water. "Do you ever wish you could just... disappear? Go somewhere quiet and never come back?"
"Every day."
I laugh. "Really?"
"Really." He leans against the fountain's edge. "This life isn't for everyone. Some people are built for it. Others just survive it."
"Which one are you?"
"I'm still figuring that out." His eyes scan the garden, the walls, always watchful. "But I know which one you are."
"What's that?"
"You're built for it." He looks at me with intense eyes. I open my mouth to argue with him. "You're tougher than you think, Sera. Tougher than Adrian gives you credit for sometimes."
"Most days, I don't feel tough," I admit. "I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, waiting for someone to die."
"No one does when they're in the middle of it." He shifts. "But you're still here. Still fighting. Still protecting your son. That's strength, and it's the type that this family needs."
I want to respond, but my phone buzzes.
Finally.
I pull it out, but it's not Adrian. It's an unknown number.
I almost ignore it, but that feeling in my gut tells me to answer it.
"Hello?"
Silence. Then breathing.
"Hello?" I say again.
The line goes dead.
"What was that?" Leo asks.
"I don't know. Wrong number, maybe."
Leo's hand goes to his waistband, where he keeps his gun, and his free one takes my arm. "We need to go back inside."
"Leo—"
The explosion cuts me off.
It comes from the front of the house. The sound is deafening, and I feel it in my chest, in my bones.
"What the fuck—" Leo pulls me toward him.
Then the second explosion hits.
This one is behind us. At the back gate. Where the security station is.
The shockwave slams into us like a physical force. I'm thrown forward, hitting the ground hard. My ears are ringing. My vision blurs. I taste copper and dirt.
"Sera!" Leo is beside me, trying to pull me up. Blood is running down the side of his face from a gash above his eyebrow. "Get up! We need to move!"
I try. My body won't cooperate. Everything is spinning, and my ears are ringing painfully.
Smoke is everywhere. Thick and black and choking. I can hear screaming. Gunfire. Chaos.
Leo hauls me to my feet, his arm around my waist. "Stay with me. We're going inside. Now."
We make it three steps before I see him.
Gabe.
He's coming through the destroyed back gate with armed men. Maybe eight. Maybe ten. I can't count. Can't focus.
But I see him. My brother. Looking wild. Desperate. Determined.
"Leo." My voice comes out strangled.
He sees them too. Pushes me behind him. Gun already drawn.
"Run," he orders. "Back to the house. Get inside. Lock the doors. Don't open them for anyone but Adrian. They're safe secured, so they lock from the inside."
"Leo—"
"Go!"
But I can't move. I'm pregnant and injured and scared, and I stay frozen, unable to leave.
Gabe is walking toward us. Gun raised. Aimed at Leo.
"Don't," I hear myself say. "Gabe, don't." I step between Leo and the gun, ignoring the way he tries to move me. His arm is shaky, and I can feel the stickiness of his blood. He's hurt badly—I can see it in how unfocused his eyes are.
Gabe doesn't lower the gun. "Get out of the way, Sera."
"No."
"Move. Now."
"Gabe, please—"
"He's in my way." Gabe's voice is hard. Cold. Nothing like the brother I knew. "Move, or I'll shoot through you to get to him."
Leo's grip on me tightens. "Sera, do what he says—"
"Wait!" I step forward, hands raised. "Wait. If you shoot him, you're giving me a chance to run, and you and I know that I'm a fantastic piece of leverage."
"Sera, no—" Leo tries to grab me, but he is weak enough that I can ignore his attempts.
"I'll go willingly," I say, looking at Gabe. My voice is shaking but clear. "Just don't hurt him. Don't hurt anyone else. I'll come with you."
Gabe's eyes narrow. "You're lying."
"I'm not. Look at me. I'm pregnant. I'm tired. I can't run. I can't fight." I take another step toward him. "You want me? Take me. But let Leo go."
For a moment, no one moves. The chaos around us continues. Smoke. Gunfire. Screaming. But in this moment, it's just us.
Gabe lowers his gun slightly. "You'll come? Willingly?"
"Yes."
"Sera, don't do this—" Leo's voice is desperate. Blood is pouring out of his head, and I can see he's barely on his feet. I suspect he hasn't used his gun because he's terrified of hitting me. He can't shoot cleanly, which means he's hurt—badly.
"I'll come. Just let him go."
Gabe studies me. Then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a syringe.
My blood goes cold.
"Prove it," he says. "You want me to believe you'll come quietly? Take this."
"What?" My voice cracks.
"You heard me." He tosses the syringe. It lands at my feet. "Inject yourself. Show me you're serious. Show me you're not going to try to escape or fight or cause problems."
I stare at the syringe. At the clear liquid inside.
My mind races through the options:
Option 1: Refuse. Gabe shoots Leo. Then shoots me or beats me unconscious. Takes me anyway. Leo dies. Baby at risk from violence.
Option 2: Run. Gabe shoots Leo. Shoots me in the leg or back. Drags me out bleeding. Leo dies. Baby at massive risk from gunshot wound.
Option 3: Comply. Leo lives. Sedative enters my system. Risk to baby exists but is controlled. I stay valuable to Gabe, which means he keeps me alive. Adrian will come.
It's not a choice. It's a calculation.
And the math is brutal.
"Sera, don't—" Leo tries to step forward, but he stumbles. Whatever hit him, did a number on his head.
"What is it?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"Midazolam. A sedative. Short-acting." He sounds almost clinical. "Won't cross the placental barrier in significant amounts at this dose. It's what they give pregnant women in hospitals for procedures."
My hands are shaking as I bend down. I need to buy time. Need to think.
That's when I see it. Leo's phone. It must have fallen from his pocket when we hit the ground. It's partially hidden in the grass.
I lean down, pretending to steady myself. My work apron has deep pockets. I slip the phone into one of them, then grab the syringe.
"Sera." Leo's voice breaks. "Please. Don't do this. Adrian will—"
"Adrian isn't here." I stand slowly, syringe in hand. My voice is steadier than I feel. "And if I don't do this, Gabe will kill you. Then he'll beat me unconscious or shoot me. Then he'll take me anyway. At least this way, you live."
I look at my brother. At the man who used to build pillow forts with me. Who I sang lullabies to. Who became a stranger.
"I don't trust you," I say clearly. "But I trust that you need me alive and undamaged. A sedative is better than a bullet. Better than being beaten. Better than whatever else you'd do to force compliance."
"She's smart," Gabe says quietly. "Now do it. Before I change my mind and shoot your boyfriend here."
"He's not my boyfriend." My voice is firm. "He's my friend. And my son's godfather. And I won't let you kill him."
My hand moves to my stomach. My son is still kicking. Still alive. Still depending on me to make the impossible choices.
"I'm not doing this because I believe you," I say, meeting Gabe's eyes. "I'm doing this because it's the least terrible option you've given me. And because Leo doesn't deserve to die for your mistakes."
Gabe's face flickers—something almost like shame crosses it. "You're still my sister."
"Then act like I'm your sister," I say. "Tell me the truth. Is this really what you said it is?"
"Yes." His voice is quiet. "I looked it up. I'm not trying to hurt you or the baby, Sera. I just need you to come with me."
I want to believe him. I don't. But the alternative is worse.
I find a vein. My hand is shaking so badly I almost miss.
"He needs a doctor," I say, looking at Leo one last time.
"That's on the Neros," Gabe says. "But if you do this, I'll make the call. He'll have a chance."
Leo's eyes meet mine. There's understanding there. And forgiveness.
I press the needle into my skin.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. To him. To Adrian. To my son.
I press the plunger.
"Sera, no—"
Leo's voice is raspy.
The drug hits fast. Burning through my veins. Making everything heavy. Blurry. Wrong.
My last thought is clear: Adrian will find me. And when he does, everyone here dies.
I see Gabe moving toward me. See Leo trying to get up from where he's fallen, blood still streaming down his face.
See the world tilting.
Falling.
Then nothing.
Just darkness.
And the terrifying thought that I might never wake up.
That my son might never be born.
That Adrian will come home to find me gone.
The darkness swallows me whole.
And I'm gone.