Page 93 of Possession

The words ease some of the tension coiled in my chest, but not all. After she leaves, I pull up a chair and sit as close to Megan as possible.

“Turn on your side if you can,” I tell her. “I’ll massage your back.”

“Get under the gown,” she orders, a spark of humor lighting her tired eyes.

“Are you trying to seduce me in the middle of labor?” I tease, earning a weak chuckle.

But her laughter fades as another contraction grips her, and I hold her hand tightly, helpless but determined to be here for her.

A text lights up my phone.

Mateo:Assholes watching you at the hospital have been eliminated. Enjoy the night, vato.

Relief floods through me, though I quickly pocket the phone before Megan notices.

“Hunter?” Her voice pulls me back.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Can you get Mary? I think my water just broke.”

Chapter 30

The Wrong One

HUNTER

Abrief flash of artificial light cuts through the dim hospital room, casting fleeting shadows across the walls. I glance down, making sure the glow from my phone doesn’t disturb the two most important people in my life. Megan lies on the hospital bed, her breathing slow and steady as she sleeps, her body still recovering from the ordeal of childbirth. Cradled in the crook of her arm, our son is swaddled in a soft blue and white blanket, his tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with hers.

My chest tightens as I watch them, the weight of gratitude nearly overwhelming. They’re here. Safe. Mine.

I pick up my phone, silencing the screen quickly. Megan stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. She deserves this rest—God knows she’s earned it.

We chose not to find out the baby’s sex, wanting to be surprised when he arrived. The look on Megan’s face when the doctor announced,“It’s a boy!”was something I’ll never forget. It was as if she thought giving me a son was the greatest gift shecould ever offer as if that mattered more than the fact that she and the baby were alive and healthy.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m over the moon to have a son. Ason.The word feels strange on my tongue, like something precious I’m afraid to mishandle. And he’s beautiful, with a head full of lush dark hair, a button nose, and long legs that seem to promise he’ll outgrow me one day. His skin is the perfect creamy blend of Megan’s gorgeous brown complexion and my fairer tone.

When the nurse placed him in my arms after Megan held him first, I felt something powerful explode in my chest, shooting straight to my eyes and blurring my vision.

The memory still hits me like a freight train. I’ve never felt anything like it.

The phone buzzes in my hand, pulling me from my thoughts.

“What?” I whisper, assuming it’s Christian or Vaughn checking in.

“Congratulations,” comes a raspy voice on the other end, thick with a sneer. My stomach drops, ice shooting through my veins. I know that voice.

Fabre.

I stand immediately, careful not to make a sound as I slip out of the room. The hospital hallway is quiet except for the occasional beep of a monitor and the low murmur of voices from the nurses’ station. Lars isn’t at his usual post outside the door—he mentioned grabbing food from the cafeteria. Christian, Vaughn, and Lena are all at home, resting. I’ve shut down the Blue Whiskey for the first time since opening it, just to carve out a few days to bask in this fleeting love bubble with Megan and our son.

But of course, the bubble never lasts.

“This is starting to get creepy,” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm as I press the phone to my ear.

“Creepy?” Fabre’s laugh is like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me. Unfortunately, I’m already spoken for.”

---