“Fucking hell.” He lets out a frustrated groan. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling close to the gates of Hampton Kean’s estate and we’ve brought an army.
As we approach, I can see Kean’s men outside the gate take notice. We pinpoint where they are, outside and inside the fence. Marco and Thomas, feeling like shit that they let Hannah down, take the lead and one by one start picking the guards off like the sharp-shooters they’ve been trained to be.
Pandemonium breaks out with Kean’s men. Some of them return fire, but the element of surprise is on our side and soon, Kean has enough men down that Phoenix and I are able to drive up to the gate. We unload our package. I use the fucker’s knife to stab the note for Hampton into his dead chest.
Then I wave to the security camera. “Your time is coming, Hampton. You'd better sleep with one eye open because I’m coming for you.”
We get back into the car and speed off just as a new group of Hampton’s men approaches the gate.
“That was a stupid idea, but holy fuck, it was quite satisfying,” Phoenix says as we get back in the car and zoom away. He’s right, but not satisfying enough. Until Hampton is dead, I won’t be satisfied.
When I arrive home, I have several fingers of whisky to take the edge off the day. Now feeling more settled, I head upstairs, slipping into our bedroom. Hannah is curled on her side, breathing softly. Good.
I’m careful not to wake her as I ease onto the bed. Her bandaged arm rests on top of the covers, a reminder of how close I came to losing her today. Just like Meghan.
There’s no stopping the memories. The fire. Knowing Meghan was in the house and unable to escape. Picturing Hannah on the street, targeted by a killer. In both cases, I wasn’t there to protect what’s mine.
Hannah shifts in her sleep. My hand hovers over her shoulder, wanting to touch but afraid to disturb her peace. She looks so damn innocent, just like Meghan did. Too pure for the darkness of my world.
The Keans used Meghan to destroy me once. Now they're targeting Hannah, and the thought of history repeating itself makes me physically ill. I couldn't save Meghan, but I can protect Hannah. I have to.
Yet as I watch her sleep, I realize the danger isn't just physical. Somehow, this arranged marriage has become something more. Hannah's light has seeped through the darkness of my soul, making me feel things I never thought I’d feel again. I didn’t want to feel again.
It terrifies me. If I lose Hannah too…
I close my eyes, fighting the warring instincts inside me. It’s time to face the truth I’ve been trying to deny. I don’t only care about Hannah. I’m in love with her. A part of me wants to retreat in the darkness, hide my heart. But it’s too late. I’m fully, irrevocably in love with my wife.
23
HANNAH
Istare out the window from the window seat of our bedroom, watching raindrops trail down the glass. It's been three days since the attack, and Ash hasn’t let me leave the house. His protectiveness would be sweet if it didn't feel like he's using it as another excuse to pull away from me.
Since bringing me home from the hospital, it seems like Ash is retreating further into himself and away from me. Is it because he senses my growing feelings? I promised I wouldn't ask for his love, promised I could accept being just another woman in his bed.
I've tried so hard to keep that promise, to stick to our arrangement of physical pleasure without emotional attachment. Of course, it was impossible not to fall for him. And now I’m carrying his child. But as he pulls away, it’s clear that Meghan is still between us. She was the one he wanted to marry and have children with, not me.
Sometimes, I catch him watching me when he thinks I'm not looking. There's heat in his gaze, yes, but also conflict. Like he's fighting against feeling anything deeper than desire. It would beeasier if he truly felt nothing. This push and pull, these glimpses of possibility before he shuts down again, are breaking my heart.
Of course, I don’t see him much these days. Now Ash spends his time in meetings with his brothers, plotting their next move against the Keans. When he comes home, his mind is elsewhere. At night, he tucks me in but then retreats back to his office.
I get it. I really do. The attack scared him, brought back memories of losing Meghan. It’s why he’s keeping his distance. Until this issue with the Keans is settled, I need to go along, living my days locked up at home, keeping a secret I’m too afraid to tell.
My pregnancy test results weigh heavily in my mind. I should tell him. He has a right to know. But how can I when he's barely looking at me these days? When he's so focused on revenge that everything else seems secondary?
I know this is what I signed up for when I agreed to this marriage. But I want more, want him to see me as more than just an asset to protect. I want him to trust that I'm strong enough to stand beside him in this fight, not someone to be sheltered and hidden away.
Antonio brings me tea, his concerned expression matching the rest of the staff’s. "Mrs. Ifrinn, would you like anything else?"
I shake my head, managing a weak smile. Even the staff tiptoe around me now, as if I might break.
The loneliness hits hardest in these quiet afternoon hours. I wander from room to room not sure what to do with myself. Even my art room doesn’t bring me the level of joy it once did. Thank goodness Ash hasn’t found me a new teacher yet as I can’t bring myself to paint right now.
My phone buzzes, my friends asking to meet up. I don't bother responding. What's the point when Ash won't let me leave? Besides, I can't face them knowing I'm hiding such big news. They'd see right through me.
I rest my forehead against the cool glass, watching raindrops race down the pane. How long can I keep living like this?
