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“I know,” he manages wryly. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. Just help me sit down, and you can patch me up. I only want you.”
Part of me wonders if I can manage that. But I tell Ralph to go, helping Liam into the bathroom and to the edge of the tub, where he sits slumped as I get the first-aid kit out from under the bathroom sink.
“You’ll have to help me with my shirt,” he says. “My hand–”
He raises his right hand, and I feel faint. Some of the skin on his forefinger and thumb is burned away, the remaining flesh red, raw and blistered. “Liam,” I whisper in horror. “What happened? What did they do to you–”
“It was my punishment,” he says quietly. “For signing a document I intended to break. The lashes were for the disgrace done to the O’Sullivan family.”
“The lashes–” My eyes widen as I look at the blood-soaked shirt clinging to his back. “Oh god, Liam–”
I manage to get his shirt off, his groan of pain as I peel it away from his flesh, cutting straight to my heart. I feel faintly sick at what I see there–the welted, torn flesh from where he was struck bleeding down his now-marred skin. Tears well in my eyes, but I force them back. Liam needs me to care forhimnow, and I can’t do that if I’m sobbing.
It’s a long process. As I tend to his wounds, he tells me about the meeting–all of it. He tells me about Luca and Viktor siding against him, as Sofia and Caterina had feared, about Graham’s speech to the table, distracting himself from the pain as I clean the burns first with cold water, layering antibiotic ointment and loosely wrapping a bandage around the raw flesh.
“You’re going to have to have the doctor look at this,” I tell him sternly.
“I know,” Liam says contritely. “I just couldn’t right now–not today. I need you and only you right now, Ana.”
Gently, I start to clean the wounds on his back, hating each time he winces or sucks in a breath of pain. “So, is this the end of it?” I ask quietly. “Is it over?”
“No,” Liam says, and my heart sinks like a stone in my chest.
He turns to face me then, pulling away from my touch to hold my hand in his instead. “I’m sorry, Ana,” he says quietly. “It’s worse than I thought it would be. Some wanted to have me killed. Niall would have stopped them–or tried–if it came to that, but Luca and Viktor and a few others kept that from being a unanimous vote. Luca and Viktor prevented a unanimous vote to replace me with one of the other families’ sons–but only because Graham had something else up his sleeve.”
“What?” I look at him, frightened. “Liam, what are they going to do?”
“Graham says my brother is alive. They’re going to find him and bring him back. And if they do–there’s not a man at that table, including Liam and Viktor, who will speak up for me. It was always meant to be Connor’s, and they’ll likely give it back to him if they can.”
I stare at him, trying to let it sink in.Liam’s brother is alive.It should be happy news, but it’s not, and that breaks my heart anew for him, in addition to the rest of it. “What about Niall?”
“He’s not a King, only my friend and enforcer. He doesn’t get a vote, unfortunately.” Liam lets out a long breath. “I could try to stop it. But it would mean war, Ana. With my own brother–and very little in the way of allies to help me.”
He reaches for me then, pulling me into the circle of his arms, careful of his injured right hand. He looks up at me, and I can see the guilt and sorrow in his eyes, written on every line of his face. “I’m sorry, Ana,” he whispers. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now, if I’ll hold the Kings or lose them, who I will be–what our child’s legacy will be. But I swear to you, I will always love you. I will never leave you, so long as I draw breath. It won't matter to me if I lose all of it as long as I have you.” He lowers his head then, and I can see the slump of his shoulders. “Except for the fact that I will have nothing left to give you or our child.”
“Liam,” I whisper his name, tears welling in my eyes as I reach down, cupping his face in my hand and raising it so that he looks at me. His green eyes are glistening too, and I gently stroke his cheek with my thumb. “I don’t care who you are, Liam, an Irish King or an ordinary man. You crossed the world to find me. You’ll always be extraordinary to me. I’ll never leave you–and I will always love you, as will our child. What you are has never mattered–onlywhoyou are, a good man down to the depths of your soul.” I bend down, kissing him gently, brushing my fingers over his lips as I pull back. “That’s my husband and the father our son will have, King or no King.”
Tears slide down Liam’s cheeks, and I kiss them away, whispering that I love him repeatedly, as I sink down to sit next to him, clinging to his good hand. “Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, and I lay my head against his shoulder, biting my lower lip.
“Yes,” I admit. “I’ve seen what happens to an ousted man with no allies, to my own father, murdered by the Bratva. I was terrified for you today, Liam, terrified that I’d live my own mother’s life, a mob widow, running for her life with her child. I’m still afraid of that, afraid of the future and what it brings for all of us now. But what was our choice?” I sit up, my gaze locking with his. “You love me, and I love you. We’ll love our child together. And whatever comes of that, comes.”
Liam kisses me again, slow and gentle, and I stand up, turning him so that I can finish cleaning and dressing the wounds on his back. When he’s finally bandaged, I help him up and undress him, helping him to the bed so that he can lie on his stomach, with pillows under his head and hips to keep him comfortable.
I lay down next to him, brushing his hair away from his face, holding his good hand until he falls asleep. “I love you,” I whisper, and I’ve never meant anything more in all my life.
Despite everything, I could swear I see him smile even in his sleep.
—
FOUR WEEKS LATER
I stand in our living room, an envelope in my hand, Liam next to me. There’s an answer inside it, and I don’t know if it’s one I want to know.
We both had doctor’s appointments today–first Liam to check on the healing of his back and hand, and then me for the baby. The baby itself is fine, healthy, and growing nicely, according to the doctor, but we were handed something else on the way out–the results of the paternity test we’d requested.
Now, I’m holding it in my hand, wondering if we should open it.
Everything is uncertain. The Kings haven’t met officially since that last fateful meeting. Liam continues to run the business as usual, always aware that Graham is searching for his lost brother, making contact with those who know where he could be. We look over our shoulders on a daily basis now, waiting for the bad news to come.
