Page 54 of Cage the Storm
I drag a hand down my face, the exhaustion settling in now that the adrenaline has faded. “Then there’s your answer.”
Mateo shakes his head. Grabbing the bottle, he sets it next to my empty glass. “You need to figure out what the hell you’re gonna do next, man.”
I already know that, but I have no idea where to start.
And as he finally turns around, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts, I realize it might be the most terrifying part of all.
He closes the door behind him, and the quiet gnaws at the edges of my sanity. I drag my hand through my hair, pressing my fingers hard against my scalp like I can dig out the thoughts that won’t stop shoving their way to the surface.
Luna said she was pretending this wasn’t real. Those words claw at me, twisting in my gut. She didn’t want this. Not me. Not my child.
She spent months pretending—burying it, ignoring it, hiding from something I didn’t even know existed.
Now she’s carrying a life inside her, and I almost tore it from her hands before she could tell me.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
LUNA
I collapse onto the bed,shaking with everything I can’t say out loud. My heads a mess and I can’t shut it off. Why does a part of me want to keep this baby safe, and the other part of me wants it gone? These are the kinds of thoughts that have been haunting me since I found out I was pregnant. What’s wrong with me?
I want to think it’s because this baby will be surrounded by ruthless men who hold all the power. And their women who have learned how to survive in the aftermath. What kind of life is that for an innocent child? Will they ever know peace, or will their first steps be taken on blood-soaked ground? My chest tightens with that thought. How could I possibly protect them if I’m just a prisoner serving a life sentence?
That’s why I spent months pretending this wasn’t real and avoiding the truth. I immersed myself in helping the women, so I had an iota of control in a life that had given me none. I never allowed myself to imagine what being pregnant in this world would be like. Now that I am, there’s no turning back, and this baby will never truly be mine since it’s a Caputo. And Nico made it clear that their traditions are written in stone.
Nico. Oh god, I told him I was pregnant. Now everything’s changed. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he’d killed us both. At least then, we’d be free.
Does he even want this child? Will he look at his child the way he looks at me? With venom in his gaze and hatred in his soul. Or will he see his brother—the blood I spilled, and the legacy he’s forced to carry in a way he never wanted?
Minutes bleed into hours, each one heavier than the last. I haven’t seen him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not out there, drowning in whatever grief’s tearing him apart.
I finally slip under the covers since I’m exhausted. But it has nothing to do with the pregnancy and everything to do with him. Afraid that if I close my eyes, he’ll finish what he started. He could still crash through the door, with hatred in his heart, and decide that tonight’s the night he finally takes revenge.
And what would I do?
I stare at the ceiling, but I can’t sleep. This baby’s innocent. Unaware. Growing inside of me, oblivious to the war that will dictate its future before it ever takes its first breath.
But Nico is not innocent.
And neither am I.
Memories rush in before I can stop them. Memories I’ve spent years trying to bury. It all started with my father. The man who dictated every step of my life long before I had a chance to take them myself. The man who decided my fate with a single stroke of a pen, sealing me into a marriage that was never mine to decide.
He started this war.
Reuben D’Angelo set it all in motion, stringing together alliances with blood-soaked hands, signing away his only daughter like I was nothing more than a pawn in his endless pursuit of power. And I let him because I had no choice. In ourworld, a daughter is nothing more than a bargaining chip; her value is measured not by who she is but by what she has to offer.
I married Giovanni because it was expected of me. Because it would strengthen our families and unite the two empires. But my father never cared about unity. He cared about control. About power. About ensuring his line continued, even if it meant sacrificing me in the process.
Now that Giovanni’s dead, I’m married to the heir to the Caputo crown. It’s proof that in this life, nothing goes according to plan. And my father’s decision so long ago was all for naught. Because no matter how much I want to believe I can change my future, one brutal truth remains.
It was never mine to decide because I was born into a story already written. And I’ve never held the pen.
The air grows clammy, settling over me like an unwelcome touch. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything except the slow, deliberate drag of footsteps across the floor.
Nico.
I turn, searching through the shadows, but he’s already there. Already watching me.
