Page 113 of The Twins

“Fylox, I let them fly on my plane. This entire operation cost me three million dollars, and you want to lock them up?” Alex asks his friend, the man he shares his woman with.

“Kamila’s pregnant. I’m not letting any persons related to Máximo Martí, an official enemy of the state from Ecuador, or a former contract killer mess with my peace,” Fylox utters, his gaze alert. He steps forward, and before Charles can react, he stabs him in the neck with a syringe. Mind you, Charles was stripped from his weapons before we boarded the private jet. We have no weapons to defend ourselves.

This development surprised Charles–no weapons whatsoever. Fylox charged at him with a syringe in a moment of vulnerability. The one time Charles lets down his guard, thinking that we’re here as friends of the royals.

Internally, I feel at home, but my anxiety won’t let me show Fylox that I worship using syringes as weapons.

When Fylox turns to me, I let him do whatever he needs to do.

I’ll save the world later.

For now, I’m out.

* * *

There’sa disgusting dry taste in my mouth when I wake up.

“Fylox, how dare you treat our guests like that!”

“I did what I had to do.”

“Baby, please. Calm down. Think of our little princess.”

“They flew all the way from Los Angeles to save this girl! How could you sedate them—”

“We don’t know them. They might be terrorists. Criminals. Spies. They might want to buy Carey Jean from Hugh Abbott for their sick fantasies,” Fylox utters, and I retch. I open my eyes in a hall that resembles a church. Rows of seats surround me, and there’s a podium coupled with a stage upfront. I’m somewhere in the middle of the corridor that leads to the stage.

Next to me, Charles remains asleep.

“Fylox, listen to me. I’ve been there, and I did that. I already questioned him in LA. He confessed to being sent to assassinate Aris. He fell head over heels for Máximo Martí’s wife the moment he saw her. He witnessed her being abused and horribly raped, Fylox. Of course, Vegas feels anguish being back in Katantia. He only has traumatic memories of his time here. At the time, Martí almost killed his wife in his rage. Our doctors deemed it a miracle that she survived.”

“I don’t care. I want you safe,” Fylox insists, and I relate to him for that, but I wish he’d recognize that I’m not the enemy.

“I know you do, and I love you for it. Please, trust me on this,” Kamila coaxes her man, and I instantly miss my woman. We left her behind with my brother so that they could talk about Remo’s revelations and because she’s pregnant. As low-risk as her pregnancy is, we don’t want to risk her health by forcing her to travel for a day to Katantia.

Besides, if we’d taken her along, and Fylox had sedated her…

Something’s poking my brain, driving a knife into the back of my head and twisting it. I can’t focus with my headache, and I don’t know how to get out of it.

“I’m sorry, Vegas,” Kamila addresses me. My vision’s blurry, but I see the shadow of her cherry-red hair. She’s thicker than she was almost two months ago when I took my sugar puff for dinner at our favorite restaurant. She’s pregnant, idiot.

“S-Sugar p-puff… She w-wanted me to tell y-you… You’re beautiful.”

“Fylox, relax.” Kamila steps between one of her husbands and me. All three of them are so tall, and I feel tiny. I’m not tiny. I’m full of trauma in this godforsaken place. “That’s Grey, the woman I talked to you about. She’s the hottie with the fire nails from LA. No need to attack a man for being the messenger.”

“Why the fuck would you sedate us?” Charles hisses from next to me. He’s coming back to his senses quicker than I am. “Are you trying to help a pedophile escape? Do you want another child to go missing?”

“Please, sir. I beg you. Don’t curse in the presence of Fylox,” Kamila begs Charles, and I’m battered with her sense of fear and horror. What is she afraid of?

“Your Fylox poisoned me—”

“I hardly poisoned you. You’re up and running again, so there’s no need to make a fuss about it,” Fylox utters, an impatient sneer escaping him.

“Fylox suffered abuse in his childhood, and as a result, he can’t cope with certain words. Please, respect my wish.” She bows her head, inhaling a sharp breath. After a moment of thought, she rises again. “I made them take you out of the nasty cellars. You don’t deserve to be locked up with other enemies of the state. I trust Grey’s judgment to date you.”

“She’s pregnant,” I tell Kamila, and the woman hoots. She claps her hands, pacing around her men. “She’s sorry that she couldn’t come.”

“You need to fly here when your baby’s born,” Kamila suggests. “You can stay at my former home. I have all the furniture you need for a baby during a vacation. Please? I want to see her face again.”

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