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“No.” The man beside me voiced out, sitting forward on the sofa with his elbows on his knees. “Thanks, uh... boss. Thank you for this opportunity. I have no problem with the arrangement, and I swear on my life that I will love, protect, and take care of your daughter just as much as you have, and even more.”
Dad tried to gauge my reaction, but I kept a poker face, staying silent for a while.
A part of me wished Declan rebelled against the idea. I wanted him to because I knew I could never do it. I didn’t have that kind of courage.
“Ava?”
Dad’s voice was eager, expectant.
Sucking in a deep breath, I exhale. My shoulders sagged.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He wanted more; a solid response binding the agreement.
I nodded. If marrying Declan O’Malley was the solution that I needed to help my family, then I was going to do it in a heartbeat.
“Yes, I will marry him.”
Dad stood up from the sofa, satisfied. “Good.”
For the rest of the day, I didn’t speak with anyone, not even my husband-to-be. I wasn’t mad at him; I just was not in love with him. The arrangement sounded more like a business agreement and less like a future I was going to have with someone possibly forever.
My phone buzzed on the pillow beside mine and I opened my eyes, swiftly looking away from the ceiling. At first, I was hesitant. I thought Declan was trying to communicate, but then the phone went off, and the caller ID had no link to the blonde.
Sweat formed in my palms and anxiety gnawed at my nerves. I swiped on the screen and placed the phone on my ear.
“Doctor Ophelia,” I swallowed the lump that quickly formed in my throat. “What a surprise. I thought you were never going to call.”
She tittered and went straight to business. “I tried texting a few times but got no responses. Ava, the results came back positive.”
It was like something snatched all the air from my lungs. My fingers stilled on the phone and a well of tears rose to my eyes.
“Congratulations.” Her voice bounced back with more excitement than was necessary. “You’re pregnant.”
Chapter 13 - Viktor
Click...
Sparks turned to flames after the third click on the man’s Zippo lighter and he took it to the brown cigar stick between his lips. He sucked, inhaled, and let out a pathetic wheeze. The room was filled with smoke; it was hard not to choke. A flying buzzed over his head, and he whacked it with a folded black and white newspaper. His accuracy was impressive.
“I’m trying to understand why you came all the way here, Viktor.” The corner of his lips crooked to the side, with the cigar stick dangling halfway through. “We usually conduct our deals at places you are most comfortable.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“You sure?” His bushy brow went up and he brushed off the dead fly from the table. “You’ve been looking at the entire place like some douche with a stick up his ass.”
I deadpanned. “My discomfort has nothing to do with your shithole, Benjamin.” And that was the truth. I’d seen worse—lived in worse with my mother and sister, and we survived. The dilapidating building, leaking roof, and algae-infested walls were not my problem as long as he had what I wanted.
“If you say so. At least, you know I chose here because it’s the most convenient.”
The white fluorescent tube light hanging on the ceiling flickered and I tapped the glass of the silver Rolex on my wrist. “Our meeting should have ended fifteen minutes ago.”
Tossing the newspaper carelessly aside, she picked up a stack of cards and began dealing with and against himself while he talked. “But yet, here we are, enjoying the squeaks of fucking rats and the constant tapping of your shoes on the floor.”
My eyes narrowed.
I didn't like Benjamin Hawk; never had a time, and never thought I would ever be a fan. The stout man had snake eyes, the type that couldn't be trusted, and dirty fingers. I didn’t like dirty fingers. But Benjamin did business well and hadn't disappointed in any of his supplies in the past years working with him. He dealt in blow, and weapons, and was the best in the business.
