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“I never thought I’d find love again,” Jani sneers at the man behind me, her face contorting into an expression of malicious delight. “Yet here we are.”
“You know, I still can’t fathom how you could abandon a child so easily when you have one of your own,” I snarl at Jani, the knife’s icy edge pressing against my neck.
“Pathetic. Any true heir of mine would have pulled that trigger by now,” my sperm donor whispers against my temple, the knife biting into my skin. “But clearly, you’re not.”
Jani frowns, peering behind me. “Cameron?”
“Don’t fret, my love. She won’t harm you,” my father assures her with twisted affection. “She lacks the resolve.”
Jani breathes a sigh of relief. “What do you plan to do with h?—”
I don’t let her complete her sentence.
I pull the damn trigger.
The gun erupts, its recoil jolting me unexpectedly. My body jerks back into my father’s, my wound igniting with searing pain.
Relief eludes me for now.
Summoning every ounce of willpower I have, I drop my weight, capitalizing on my father’s surprise that I shot Jani, and roll out of harm’s way, then I swiftly aim my gun at his chest, pulling the trigger.
The universe shifts in less than five seconds.
In those five seconds, my entire existence undergoes an irreversible transformation, a cataclysmic change in the very fabric of my reality.
The cavernous silence of the hangar envelops me as my father staggers back, colliding with the unforgiving wall. His eyes mirror the shock of his impending demise.
It’s a twisted kind of serendipity that the first time I meet the man who sired me, I shoot him without truly seeing his face—a face that bears a resemblance to mine.
I watch with detached dispassion as he slides down to the floor, clutching his bullet wound. His gaze locks with mine.
“That,” I wheeze, the words escaping through a pain filled breath, “is for killing my parents.”
“Didn’t think you had it in you,” he rasps out, his eyes glazing over as his breath rattles in his chest.
As he breathes his last breath, I kneel there, grappling with the reality of what I just did. The bitter satisfaction of revenge battles the hollow emptiness of loss. In this vortex of conflicting emotions, the rivalry that defined my existence dissipates into the shadows of the past.
Swallowing my fear, I fix my gaze on Jani, her lifeless body slumped against the wall. Brain matter and gore splatter around her, but her eyes still seem to taunt me from the afterlife.
The searing pain in my side is a stark reminder that I’m still alive and somehow okay. I summon every ounce of my strength to push to my feet and lean against the wall for support, my hand trailing a crimson path along the corridor. Then, amid the chaos and the aftermath of violence, I hear the sweetest sound.
“Lottie!” Milo’s voice rings out, cutting through the suffocating tension. I look up, my eyes locking onto his small figure as he breaks free from Desmond’s arms and dashes across the hangar.
Without hesitation, I open my arms as he launches himself at me, his tiny hands clutching onto me as if I were his lifeline. My body gives way, collapsing to the floor, utterly drained and battered, but I don’t care about my exhaustion.
Milo is in my arms, safe and sound. I hold him tightly, clinging to him as if he were the essence of my existence, while Desmond, bearing the signs of battle with his limping gait, makes his way over to us.
“You came for me,” Milo cries, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I wasn’t scared because I knew you’d come for me.”
“Always, tater tot. Always,” I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion, my heart swelling with fierce love and protectiveness.
All around us, the hangar is a grim tableau of lifeless bodies, their eyes forever closed.
I would do it all over again for Milo.
As my three men converge around us, I feel a hardening in my heart, a resolve forged through the awareness of what Desmond kept from me.
“What is it?” Desmond kneels before me, worry etched across his face. “You’re bleeding.”
