Am I… happy?
“I just—- what if Killian isn’t? So much is going on right now it’s the worst timing. I don’t want to be in competition withBlair.”
And a baby when the Russians are so close, so fresh in our lives? I don’t need to be an even more lucrative target.
Sadie’s snort derails my thoughts and I lift my hands, palms swiping over my eyes to clear the tears.
“What?”
“Cara, Killian is so in love with you that a baby could never be bad news,” she states firmly, “and 90% of children are never conceived at a good time. Maybe it’s a clause for parenthood, I’m not sure but either way, this has to be the best news right?” She rubs at my knees, trying to soothe me and her smile is open and honest. “You were his fucking world at that wedding, I don’t think anything from you could ever bebad.”
“Yeah,” I whisper softly and it’s easy to picture his face melting at the news, sweeping me up into his arms and proclaiming his excitement for the world to hear. Despite this, my mind, as light as it was moments ago, crashes with the intrusive thought of Blair.
Blair, who is the only other person that’s been in this house, who is the only person I suspect in Killian’s poisoning - despite no evidence other than my gut - and who is brushing off my texts with cool notes of only wanting to discuss Samuel with Killian.
Killian, who is too busy with the shifts in our world to focus on Blair right now.
“Come on.” Sadie stands and gathers up the tests, shoving them back into the bag along with their boxes. “We need to get some food in you girl. You look like you’re in shock.”
“I think I am,” I murmur softly, the tears easing as a gentle hiccup of emotion escapes me. After a moment, I stand like Bambi and follow Sadie out of the bathroom, and back down to the kitchen.
Sadie busies herself among the equipment making a pot of tea as I sit on one of the stools and study the score carved into the countertop.
How did this get here? What made this? Why was it never patched?
No, Cara, focus.
We need a plan.
Blair can’t avoid me forever and with Killian wrapped up in the new peace negotiations, I can’t let her slip through the cracks once more. She needs to get out of my life picture… or resolved in some regard before I eventhinkof bringing up the pregnancy to Killian.
Then again maybe we could ignore her and she’ll just fade into oblivion.
I’ve never been worried aboutstealing the limelightbut the timing definitely makes it seem like I’m insecure about Blair and her son.
I don’t need her using that against me for the rest of my life.
23
KILLIAN
Leaving Cara alone is always a difficult decision. She was ill again this morning but assured me that it’s nothing more than a stomach bug and that Sadie had brought over some old home remedies yesterday to help her. It soothes me a little but not enough to fully calm my heart by the time I reach the club Dante and Sienna have chosen as the meeting place tonight.
The music thrums around the building, pulsing through the floor and fuelling the bodies that swarm, dance, and grind over the dance floor. I ignore them all, slipping through the neon lights like a shadow as I weave through the crowd and head for one of the more secluded back rooms.
Dante, Sienna, and Owen are already there when I step through the velvet curtains and Sienna greets me with a warm smile, pressing a glass of something sparkling into my hand as the other two recline in red velvet couches.
“Killian! I was beginning to wonder if I should send someone out looking!” she exclaims, clasping my shoulder with her free hand and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek. “Don’t worry,” she adds in a softer, lower tone, “it’s non-alcoholic.”
Alcohol might not cross my mind anymore but my past transgressions certainly linger on the minds of others.
“Sorry, Cara’s feeling a bit under the weather so leaving her was harder than I care to admit,” I explain as Dante rises and claps my shoulder. Owen greets me with a tilt of his glass, something as sparkly as the walls swimming inside.
“How romantic,” Dante teases, “nothing serious I hope?”
“No, just a stomach bug. Stress no doubt,” I say and all three of them nod in understanding. Life lately has not been kind to any of us, Cara especially.
“No Feliks?” I scan the small room we’re in as Dante and Sienna settle into the plush, black velvet seats, and Owen moves closer, balancing on the arm of another. Three bodyguards line the back wall like quiet mannequins but the Russian presence is obviously absent.