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The bullet whizzes past my head, skimming my hair.
She smirks.
Silently, she turns on her heels and starts walking toward the stairs.
My heart races.
My body aches for her.
Who the hell is Rialta Corsi?
I don’t know, but I do know one thing, and I can’t keep it inside anymore.
“I love you, Rialta Corsi.”
She pauses at the base of the stairs. “And I hate you, Lennox Corsi.”
Chapter 4
Rialta
I shut my mind off, focusing on the tap of my heels as I walk up the stairs to my bedroom. I pass several of Andrea’s men down the red-carpeted hallway with gold-framed paintings on the cream-wallpapered walls. The whole mansion is hideously gaudy. It probably hasn’t been updated in decades.
I’m just thankful to have my own suite. It’s a large bedroom with a sitting area and an expansive ensuite bathroom.
I shut the door behind me and immediately turn the lock. It won’t be enough to keep anyone out. I know that, but it gives me a tiny bit of security.
I’m still gripping the gun I fired at Lennox’s head as I walk to the bathroom.
These clothes are suffocating. While I kick off my heels, I set the gun down on the marble counter and unzip my dress. I unhook my bra and push down my panties, finally naked.
I step into the large shower, and only then do I flick the water on. Cool water hits the top of my head, and I shiver. But it numbs me—just what I need—and washes away the sweat and pain for a few seconds before the water turns warm.
I stand under the shower head, letting the water hit me without the energy to wash anything. I’m tired—so fucking tired. I’ve never felt this tired in my entire life. I don’t know if it’s from the grief, the pain, or…or possibly being pregnant.
Despite not having a positive test result, I know the truth deep in my bones. I have no idea what I’m going to do.
I’m pregnant with Kit’s child.
Kit, who is now dead.
It’s the last piece of him I have.
But I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t want a child. I’ve never wanted to be a mother.
And my life is complicated. I don’t know who I am or how much time I have left of this life. I’ve been running from danger for so long that I don’t know if I’ll even live long enough to birth this child. And if I do live that long, I’ll never live long enough to raise the child to adulthood. My child will forever have a target on his or her head until the danger is gone, until I find a way out of this life for all of us.
No, I can’t be pregnant.
And yet, I’m exhausted. I could sleep for hours on end. Every smell of food I encounter makes my stomach want to hurl. My boobs are heavy and sore, and I swear they’ve grown a size or two overnight.
I run my hands up my face and over my hair, trying to wash away the thought. I don’t know for sure, not until I test. And then what?
I don’t know what my next move is. What do I do with Lennox? What about Andrea? How do I convince my father to let me make my own choices? And even if I could make my own decisions, what would I choose?
I flip off the water and grab a fluffy white towel hanging outside the door, wrapping it under my arms before stepping out. I instantly freeze, feeling his presence before I look up.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to enter a woman’s bathroom while she’s showering without knocking first?” I snap as I walk to the connected closet Andrea had filled with women’s clothes.
