He laughs outright. “Girl, that woman was never yours, only your husband’s. Ask yourself why he likes to keep such a pretty woman around. Well, that’s probably obvious since you were never much to look at.”
I pull the phone away from my face and glare at it. Fucking bastard. Just because I wasn’t fawning over his son and his family, suddenly I’m ugly. No. He’s just trying to get a rise out of me. Along with his taunt about Andrea. I’m pretty sure both of them would rather gouge their own eyes out than sleep with each other.
“One million is my only and final offer.”
“Ten million,” he snaps, his breathing husky.
Gag.
Knowing what they will do with that money and who they will use it to buy, I can’t do it. I splay my fingers over my belly and shake my head. “No. One million is all I’m offering.”
“You called me, girl, not the other way around. I’m perfectly content to watch the council snuff out your entire lot. I’ll gladly sweep in, buy up the pieces, and destroy any legacy your husband might have left.” He spits the word husband like it’s something gross in his mouth.
“I’m not going to give you ten million to buy and sell more children on the black market. I just won’t do it.” I don’t need to explain myself to him at all. By this point, I should just hang up. I knew this was a bad idea in the first place. Except I had to try. For Adrian. For our family.
He laughs again, and then I hear others laugh. Of course, he’s had me on speakerphone this entire time. They are all probably huddled around having a good laugh about my groveling to make a deal.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll sacrifice my pride to keep people safe if I have to. It means nothing to me anymore.
“I think we are done talking,” I say, keeping my tone light and calm.
“See you soon, girl,” he growls into the phone.
I hang up and lean back into the pillows again. During the call, I’d sat up, intent on listening closely. I hadn’t even realized.
There’s a soft huff from the door, and I glance up to lock eyes with Adrian. His face is solemn, his eyes gentle as they meet mine. And for a second, there’s pride there.
Then he’s gone again, the doorway dark. I wrap my arms around myself and whisper a prayer of thanks that Sal’s family didn’t take my offer. Now, when they all die, I never lied to anyone. I won’t have that deceit on my soul.
Just their blood.
57
ADRIAN
No matter what I say or do, I can’t convince Valentina to run off and lay low either. She is determined to see things to the end with me. While I’m tempted to throw her on a plane and force her away, I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me if I did. And if by some miracle we make it out of this thing alive, I plan to live a very long and happy life with my wife. Which will be made easier by the fact she doesn’t hate me.
Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to ensure her safety because the council will no doubt try to use her against me. At the very least, they will threaten her safety to ensure my compliance—more like my confession, if they have their way.
It’s been two weeks since the summons, and the day is approaching quickly. I sit in my office, leaning back in the chair, my feet propped on the edge of the desk. My life is an aching hole right now without my people around me, and I worry about everyone’s safety. Feasibly, I can only worry about my own and Valentina’s, but it’s hard not to keep adding people to the mix the closer and closer they get to me.
Val walks into the office in a pair of jeans and a crisp white T-shirt. Like something out of a cleaning ad on TV. I drop my feet and give her a quick sweep with my eyes. “How are you feeling? Okay?”
She sits on the edge of the chair even as I ache to have her walk around and fold herself into my arms. “Nervous, I think. Not sick, though, if you’re asking about the baby.” Her hand automatically goes to her belly as if she can feel him growing there already.
I keep scanning her body from her head to her toes, looking for differences, but she looks the same. Her hair is still a beautiful riot of curls inviting my fingers to touch. Her body is still perfectly curved to fit my own.
“There is one thing we should talk about?” she says, drawing me away from my thoughts.
“Oh?”
“They are going to demand my presence at some point, right? At the very least to threaten you with. I feel like we need to update my wardrobe, make sure I fit in with you guys and look the part. Most of what I’ve stocked in the closet is soccer mom chic. Comfortable, but doesn’t exactly scream sophistication.”