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“It was brought to the Council’s attention over the weekend that the doctor that was supposed to give you your birth control implant was murdered.”
I gasp. “What the hell? Why?”
“From what we’ve uncovered so far, she didn’t follow instructions,” Thomas replies. “Leading us to believe one of two things, either Dr. Lambert was a double agent, pretending to work for whoever tried to hire her, or she refused to be bought and was murdered once she failed to do what was asked of her.”
The day at the doctor’s office replays in my mind. It was so long ago I can’t recall much of what transpired other than her telling me the implant was in. “Are you saying she intentionally didn’t give me the implant?” This was the same conclusion Dr. Jaffri came to, but it’s still too wild to believe.
“All evidence points to Dr. Lambert purposefully not giving you the implant. She kept detailed records. My guess was for insurance purposes should she need to save her own ass,” Dad explains.
Hanging my head, I rub the bridge of my nose. This shit can’t be life. If I wasn’t living it, I’d swear this shit is fiction. Between secret organizations vying for power, stupid patriarchal traditions, and endless backstabbing, this was the perfect recipe for daytime soap opera.
Once I lift my gaze, Dad continues, “We know in the end, she decided to work for Elise and Filiae Bellonae in the hopes of you getting pregnant. However, it’s still unclear if she doubled-crossed the mystery person, going to Elise for a better payout, or if she was always working for Elise and used the scheme to suss out the mystery person.”
“So what does this all mean?” I inquire, needing to get to the bottom line. Why was Granddad here, and how did Thomas become my guard again?
“I’ll take this one, gentleman,” my grandfather says. “It means the Council is aware of your pregnancy, and with the danger of a mystery organization, the Fraternitas will not risk the next Heirs’ lives. So, Thomas is now in charge of your security. Elias, Reign, and Fernando will remain your main guards, but Thomas must always be with you whenever you leave this house.”
I mull over his words. “How did the banshee, I mean Samantha, take the news?”
“Quite frankly, the Council doesn’t care how she will react once informed. She may be the future wife of the current Heirs, but you’re carrying the first set of Heirs with the original family bloodlines,” my father retorts.
“My children will not be pawns,” I snap. “I’m happy to have you here, Thomas. You’ve been missed, but if having you here is some silent contract of my acquiescence, you can just go now.”
A proud smile crests their faces, but it’s my grandfather who addresses me. “That’s why I’m here, Dear. What did I tell you before you left Colorado?”
Recollecting his words, I repeat them verbatim. “We’ve been on defense for too long. Now, it’s their turn, and we won’t stop until they’re all dead.”
My grandfather beams with pride. “The offense has finally begun.”
25
SEBASTIAN
Ifix the collar of my shirt before adjusting my watch. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t donning a suit. I almost feel like a fish out of water.
Turning, I make one last adjustment to my belt and then slide on my shoes. I sneer at the sneakers in my closet—putting those on is a step too far.
“Bash! What the fuck are you doing up there, man? We need to get going,” Wyatt barks from the bottom of the stairs.
Rolling my eyes, I check my watch. We still have another two hours before class even begins. “Hold your fucking horses. I’m on my way down now.”
I hear Wyatt growl in frustration. “I’m trying to get there earlier so I can sit near Ariah before her guards cockblock. Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll have to sleep with one eye open.”
By the time I make it downstairs, Wyatt’s already outside. Before heading to the car, I grab my coffee, bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant, and some grapes.
“Took you long enough,” Wyatt whines.
“I’d tell you that you sound like a baby, but I think you already know how bratty you sound,” I mutter, starting my car.
Narrowing his gaze, Wyatt snatches my sandwich and licks the entire top of it. “Call me a brat again and see what happens.”
“What crawled up your ass and lodged itself?”
He snorts, “Gee, I don’t know. How about Riri’s been back for over a month, and we’re missing being part of her pregnancy? Let’s also not forget she thinks we hate her to the point she’s having nightmares that require in-home visits, and, oh, we still have to continue to breathe the same air as Samantha.”
I can’t argue with him. Everything’s been shit since the night Wes was forced to select Samantha as our Chosen. We haven’t had a moment’s reprieve. Now Ariah’s carrying our babies, and we have to pretend she’s less than pig shit.
The anguish I felt watching her beautiful face twist, tormented in her sleep because she dreamed that we thought the twins were better off dead—it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I’ll spend forever making it up to her. We all will. It feels selfish to want her to hold on, but there isn’t a scenario where Ariah doesn’t end up in our arms, where she belongs.
