Chapter 40
EVERLEIGH
A week later, I’m sitting alone at some ridiculously expensive bar in New York wearing a white dinner dress that probably cost more than it should have.
Soft music hums through hidden speakers while rich people around me laugh over hundred dollar liquor pretending their lives are perfect.
I sit near the end of the bar with a glass of red wine between my fingers, staring out toward the street outside while my thoughts spiral through everything that’s about to happen.
Chloe’s kidnapping.
The Sidorov’s ruin that I have planned.
My father’s impending death.
And.. Dante.
Everything’s in motion now after the long wait.
My phone suddenly buzzes against the wooden countertop beside me.
At first, I barely look at it, but then I see the notification.
Medical test results available. Clink the link below to access your record.
For a second, I just stare at the screen without touching it. The bar noise around me starts to sound distant while my heartbeat slowly starts picking up inside my chest.
Finally, I unlock the phone and log into the portal.
The loading screen takes forever, causing my anxiety to worsen.
But then the results finally open.
Pregnancy Test: Positive.
Everything inside me goes completely still.
I stare at the words for several long seconds like maybe I somehow read them wrong the first time.
But I wasn’t ignorant enough to believe that.
It is positive.
A quiet breath leaves me while I grab the wine glass beside me and down the rest of it in one swallow. The bartender notices immediately when I slide the empty glass back toward him.
“Another?” He asks.
I stare down at the countertop for another second before nodding once. “Yes.”
My voice sounds strange.
Disconnected.
The bartender walks away to refill the glass while I lean back slightly against the stool and drag one hand across my mouth, trying to process what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this information.
Pregnant. With Dante’s child.
The thought of the results keep surfacing inside my head over and over again.
I let out a quiet laugh underneath my breath and shake my head slightly in disbelief as I take the full glass back from the bartender.
Because of course this happens now.
Right before everything completely detonates.
My eyes slowly drift upward towards the television mounted behind the bar.
Swirling my hand, the red wine kisses the rim of the glass, almost sloshing over the edge. The television drones on about sports until a black-and-white photo fills the corner of the screen.
A thick headline reading Politician’s Missing Daughter suddenly materializes underneath.
New York was never safe. Never had been. But lately, it felt like the city had started feeding on itself.
Too many people vanishing, too many stories ending with silence instead of closure.