Page 105 of Santa Daddy
We stared at each other across the kitchen island and the wreckage of everything we’d already done together. Tree lot. Shower. Wall. Bed. Car. That ugly, cheap cabin of a church.
“I don’t sleep with murderers casually,” I said. “You’re the only homicidal maniac I’ve been stuck with.”
My laugh came out short and rough. It didn’t feel like humor. It felt like something breaking.
Something in his face flinched, like the words had actually cut.
“I had to ask,” he said quietly. “This is…big thing to say.”
“Yeah, well.” My fingers dug into the edge of the counter. “Next time maybe lead with something better than a paternity test.”
He raked both bandaged hands through his hair, wincing when the gauze caught. For the first time since I’d known him, Konstantin looked less like a machine and more like a man who’d just had the ground rearranged under his feet.
“You were never supposed to stay,” he said, almost too low to hear.
There it was.
The truth under all the mines and the threats and the wedding vows.
I’d always been a temporary solution. A convenient lie in a green velvet romper. A way to get the council off his back without having to change his life.
“And you were never supposed to feel anything,” I said back, voice softer but no less sharp.
We hung there for a moment, caught in a web neither of us had meant to spin.
He wasn’t looking at me like a hostage now. Or a shield. Or even just a lover.
He was looking at me like I’d just handed him a weapon and a weakness wrapped in the same skin.
The mother of his heir.
I wasn’t just another problem he’d dragged in from the snow.
I was his future, whether he’d wanted one or not.
“Dani—” he started.
The universe did not care about our timing.
The first bullet came through the window before he could finish my name
21
SHATTERED GLASS, SPILLED BLOOD
DANI
Everything happened at once.
The “I’m pregnant” had barely left my mouth. His “Is it mine?” still hung between us like a bad joke. I hadn’t even finished being furious when the world tore open.
The first shot screamed through the window. Then another. Then a full burst.
The so-called bulletproof glass lasted half a second.
The giant pane to our left shattered inward. A wall of ice and splinters crashed into the kitchen. Cold air knifed across my bare legs. My knees slammed into marble hard enough to send sparks up my spine.
Before I could even breathe, Konstantin hit me.
