Page 16 of Runaway Queen

“You’re just like Leonora, your mother. She was stupid, too,” he said, turning to stare out the window. His hands looked like gnarled old tree roots, balled up on his lap. “So, here’s what’s going to happen.”

As he turned back, there was a look in his eyes I recognized well. It was the look he gave me when he was about to dispense his discipline, but now he wasn’t able to smack me around. I was stronger than him. Instead, he looked satisfied enough with whatever he’d dreamed up to torture me.

“You get rid of the bastard as soon as possible, quietly. We don’t speak of it again. You marry Moroni, as planned, someone who understands the code and our way of life. This way, you might still be of use and fulfill part of your role to the family, instead of being completely useless.”

“No.” The word left me with quiet conviction.

“No?” Antonio repeated, his neck turning red.

At this rate, I’d give him another heart attack, and not be the least bit sorry.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I won’t have an abortion, and you can’t make me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he suddenly shouted.

“Father, she said no,” Renato interjected.

He was still standing right there behind me, and his weight behind my refusal gave it weight. I might not be able to do a damned thing on my own, but Ren was the heir, and if he disagreed with Antonio, then he could protect me.

Antonio sneered at both of us, disdain dripping from his words when he spoke. “How weak my children have become. Weak and softhearted. No heads for business, or survival either, for that matter.”

He looked out the window for a long moment, his mind working so furiously I could practically hear it.

“I won’t have my daughter bear an illegitimate Chernov son,” he said finally. “If you do that, it means you are no longer my daughter.”

“You were happy enough to marry me off to Kirill Chernov not too long ago,” I reminded him.

“Marrying the heir to a powerful family is one thing. Getting knocked up by the black sheep brother is another. I get nothing from this match, and that little fuck, Nikolai, gets everything. I won’t allow it. I’ll see him answer for it in prison. He won’t live to be released.”

I found myself on my feet. “You won’t go near him or pay anyone else to.”

“And what will you give me in return?” Antonio pounced, waiting for my calm to break.

“What do you want?”

“You’ll go away. You won’t speak to Nikolai again, or me. You’ll disappear, no, you’ll die. Since I don’t want Nikolai to know he has a child, you’re dead as far as anyone else knows. That will be my revenge on the man who blew my fucking house up and defiled my daughter. To everyone except me and Renato, you’re dead, including Nikolai. Talk to him, try to see him, or send him any kind of message, and I won’t just kill him… I’ll wait until you give birth and kill his bastard as well. Do you understand, Sofia? Don’t think your brother could stop me. This family is mine more than ever, after I put down Franco. Don’t test me.”

The room swirled with horror. Antonio loved a good vendetta, and he liked to plan the perfect retribution. He was exactly the spiteful sort of monster who’d die with a smile, knowing he had fucked up everyone else’s life. I had nothing to hold on to except my brother’s hand on my shoulder and the urge to vomit right there on my father’s desk. The hand that I’d pressed to my abdomen felt like an anchor. I wanted to scream and rage. I wanted to kill him, but Antonio had already expected that. I couldn’t afford to be emotional. I had something else to think about. Someone else. A new purpose.

I would lose Nikolai; he would think I was dead. Just that fact was so painful, breathing hurt. But I didn’t doubt my father. He was cruel and vengeful, and now I was on the receiving end.

“Tell me you agree, Sofia, or we have no understanding,” he started.

“I agree.” The words left me before I could consider them. Could I live without ever speaking to Nikolai again? It seemed utterly impossible, and yet, his life hung in the balance-his life, and his child’s.Our child.With my hand pressed to my abdomen, where a tiny bundle of cells was growing, part of him, part me, I knew I had no choice.

“I’ll do what I have to.”

* * *

Now

“Mom?”Leo’s voice called to me along the hall.

I was making my nightly rounds, where I wandered the house, locking up, picking up random socks and toys and returning them to their rightful places. These days, I valued the slow and predictable. There was comfort in numbing familiarity.

“Yes?” I poked my head into his room. “You are supposed to be sleeping,” I reminded him.