Her face goes through several stages of processing. Shock. Fury. Calculation. Something that might be fear. I don’t stay to watch the full sequence. I take my coffee and my cinnamon rolls and walk out of the diner.
I built this life once from nothing. I can do it again if I have to. But this time I’m not alone. This time I have Sai and whatever small life is growing under my palm and the certainty that no blank check in the world is going to change that.
Once back in my apartment, I sit on the edge of the nest beside Sai, my Alpha sitting up with his hair sleep-mussed. He looks up when I come in and the smile that crosses his face is the one that still surprises us both, the smile of a man who spent thirty years not smiling and is making up for lost time.
“I was about to come find you. You disappeared.”
I hold up the coffee and the bag. “Provisions.” I kick off my shoes and crawl into the nest fully dressed with my jacket still on and the coffees held carefully above the blankets. I burrow into the warmth and the scent and the safety of the space we’ve built.
Sai laughs. “I can do breakfast in bed, you know. But you didn’t have to go on a mission.”
“I wanted cinnamon rolls.”
“You hate sweets.”
“I know.” I shove a cinnamon roll into my mouth and the sugar hits my bloodstream and the baby, the maybe-baby, the probably-baby, the bean, seems to settle. The nausea eases.
Sai watches me with those photographer eyes that miss nothing. “Why do you smell stressed?”
I chew and swallow before taking a sip of the coffee. “I don’t smell stressed.”
His gaze narrows as he swipes the coffee from me, reads the side, and then hands it back. Good to know I won’t be able to get anything by him when it comes to things Ishouldn’tbe having during a pregnancy. “You smell like adrenaline and sugar and something happened.” Sai’s voice shifts into the protective tone. “Who hurt my Doll?”
I put down the cinnamon roll and lick the glaze off my thumb before looking up at my Alpha. “Your mother found me at the diner.”
Sai goes very still.
“She handed me a blank check. Told me to name a price and disappear. Offered bond removal services.” My voice stays matter-of-fact like I’m giving a debrief instead of describing the most invasive moment of my life. “She’s the one, by the way. The paintings. The rent. The platform. Her. I confronted her and she just... she told me I’m not good enough for you.”
Controlled rage flows through the bond, Sai’s gaze darting to the bedroom door and then back at me. His fists curl at his sides but he stays put, something I’m grateful for. “What did you say?”
“I told her I don’t give a fuck about her. That you’re mine and I’m not leaving. That she’s already tried to destroy my career and I’m still here and that should tell her something.”
Sai stares at me. The awe on his face is the same expression he wore when he looked at the painting I made of him, the recognition of being seen by someone extraordinary.
“And then I told her I’m pregnant.”
A beat passes. Sai’s eyes go wide. “You told my mother before you told me?”
“To be fair, I told you first last night. I just also told her. As a weapon.”
Sai’s mouth twitches. The rage and the awe and the absurdity of the situation collide and what comes out is a laugh, startled and helpless and the kind that hurts.
“They really don’t like me,” I say quietly. Underneath the bravado and underneath the sugar, the truth sits there. The Hollis family has tried to erase me the way my own family erased me.
Sai reaches for me and pulls me into his chest into the nest into the warmth. “This time they don’t get to choose,” he saysagainst my hair. “They don’t get to choose for me anymore. And they sure as hell don’t get to choose for you.”
