I take another turn and nearly collide with a tree.
She won’t leave the baby, and you know it. London didn’t just keep it to herself because she knew you had a lot to deal with.
If I send London away, I don’t think I can make her come back. What use is dragging her back somewhere she doesn’t want to be, anyway?
Whatever love she has for me, her maternal instincts are already stronger.
As if we needed one more problem to deal with…
You just want to think of the baby as a problem to avoid the truth.
Sometime later, I pull up outside the manor with no memory of how I got there. I slowly release the steering wheel and push the car door open, get out, and stride up the stairs. In the kitchen, I retrieve a pack of ice and place it over my knuckles. When I close the refrigerator door, Olivia is leaning against the counter, her hair pulled into a bun on top of her head.
“Don’t.” I brush past her and sit in an armchair overlooking the double French doors. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“I know that you only know how to push people away.” Olivia comes to stand next to me and folds her arms over her chest. “But this is different, and you know it.”
I press the ice against my knuckles and frown. “Does everyone but me know?”
Olivia sighs. “It isn’t about that. London didn’t tell me. I figured it out.”
“You think I should’ve noticed.”
“I think it doesn’t matter whether you did or didn’t. What matters is that you know now, so what are you going to do about it?”
I look back at my sister and scowl. “You realize there’s no version of this where London and I ride off into the sunset together, right? We are not going to raise this baby and spend the rest of our days watching them grow up.”
“Why not?”
I stand up and let the ice pack fall to the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me? Am I the only one who remembers who we are and the kind of world we live in?”
I don’t like being the only one thinking clearly.
I also don’t like being made to feel like I’m the bad guy.
Olivia waits for me to look at her. “I know it won’t be easy to leave, but you can. You’re Mason fucking Payne. If you want to start over, you can, and you know it.”
Chapter Seventeen
London
“No, please. He’s just a baby.”
“He’s not just any baby. It’s Mason Payne’s son and heir.”
I thrash, but the restraints dig deeper against my skin. “He has nothing to do with any of this. Please.”
The bald man steps forward, holding my baby.
Fear and panic claw their way inside my chest, but I can’t move.
I need to get to my son.
But the harder I struggle against my binds, the more the man laughs.
Suddenly, he pulls the white blanket away and reaches inside. My heart races as he holds my son up to the dim light, and I see his stormy eyes looking at me. I thrash again, pausing when I hear a distinct snapping sound. Searing-hot pain races up my arm, but I push it back and fix my gaze on the man standing a few feet away.
There must be a way to get to him.
