“I’ve already lost you,” I whisper, a sob escaping my lips.

  He turns back to the road. The silence is long and heavy. “You’re the one walking away,” he mutters. “Just because you pretend it didn’t happen doesn’t erase the fact that it did. You can tell yourself that you don’t love me, but we both know you do. Just like nothing will change the fact that you’re mine still, Taylor. You will always be mine.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but instead, all that comes out is a heart-rending sob.

  I scramble out of the car and slam the door. I run a few paces before my legs give out and I’m collapsed on my hands and knees in the dirt while tears turn the world into pixelated diamonds.

  It’s impossible to blink them away. They just keep coming, and falling, and blinding me.

  Get your shit together, I demand of myself. Mom…help me.

  But I don’t feel an instant burst of strength or courage. I don’t even feel Mom’s presence around me. All I feel is alone, caught between when I want and what I know I have to do.

  The question is…which one is which?

  Hell if I know. So I let out the scream I’ve been holding in since that damned phone call.

  When my throat is raw, I feel Ilarion approach from behind me. I hate how so much of me is comforted by his closeness. I’m not allowed to feel that. Not from him. Not anymore.

  Not ever, whispers the guilt in my mind.

  I scream again. And again. Until, eventually, I’m all screamed-out. The tears have ebbed enough to let me see straight. I stand up and turn around to face him. The skies hang above us, dark and dense, promising thunder and lightning, but no rain.

  The rain has only ever been good luck for us.

  That’s how I know there won’t be any.

  72

  ILARION

  The sudden shift in her demeanor is alarming. She blinks at me as if there aren’t any tears still glistening in her eyes or smeared down her face. She talks as if I can’t hear the rough aftermath of her gut-wrenching screams and wracking sobs.

  As if I didn’t just watch her fall the fuck apart.

  My god, what I’ll do to never witness that again.

  But if there’s one thing Taylor is always consistent with, it’s being a glutton for inflicting pain and torment on herself. Which is how I know the answer before I even ask the question.

  “I assume you have a plan?”

  She sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes. But you’re not going to like it.”

  “No shit.”

  She tenses but stands her ground. “It’s the only way.”

  “No,” I disagree, “it’s not the only way. But you’re too self-destructive to see anything else.”

  “If it was a choice between Celine and me, what would you do?” I see that flash in her eyes, that knowing she thinks she possesses. She’s so sure there is only one path.

  I take a step forward and she backs up immediately, terrified of getting too close to me. I hate that even more than the bullshit she keeps spouting.

  “You,” I answer. It’s impossible to keep my own torment out of my voice, but maybe it’s time she fucking hears it. “I would choose you.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “It’s not.” I shake my head, but I don’t look away. “That’s my truth. And I’m not scared to let Celine know it, either. Fuck, she probably already knows it. And you know what? She won’t hold it against me. Maybe you and Celine aren’t as close as you think you are.”

  Her expression twists. “You don’t know anything about my relationship with my sister.”

  “I know enough.”

  “Right.” Taylor nods. “You already told me. She doesn’t trust me around her boyfriends, is that it? Is that what she told you?”

  “No, that’s not it.” I know she’s not going to ask, so I tell her. “Your sister loves you, Taylor. She thinks the world of you. Which is probably why she thinks you’re so much better than she is.” She furrows her brow as I continue. “She’s not scared that you’re going to steal away the men she wants; she’s scared that the men she wants will want you instead of her.”

  Taylor’s eyes go wide. “That’s insane.”

  “Is it?” I ask. “It’s happened to her twice now.”

  “No, it hasn’t,” Taylor says firmly. “Because this isn’t happening now.”

  “Fucking hell, Taylor, don’t you see?” I am literally baffled by how completely blind this woman is. Those beautiful eyes see nothing, even and especially when it’s all right in front of her. “Celine doesn’t want a man who’d rather be with you. She wouldn’t want to be with me if she knew how I feel about you.”

  Taylor chews on her cheek. “We don’t know that.”

  I momentarily wonder if I can bang my head against the Hummer hard enough for any of her so-called logic to make sense. “Do you want to be with me, knowing I wanted to marry your sister?”

  She scoffs. “Absolutely not. I’ve been chanting that since Day One.”

  I nod. “Right. So what makes her any different?” I see her hesitate, and a glimmer of hope is on our horizon—or at least it’s the dawn of her finally understanding. “How is she so different from you that she wouldn’t feel the same way you do? How come you get to turn down a man who was going to be with someone else, but she can’t?”

  I revel in the frustration that rolls across her face and balls her fingers into fists. My point has landed.

  Fucking finally.

  But then she takes a step toward me, her face flaring with determination. “Do you love me?”

  This time, I’m the one who wants to take a step back from her. “Taylor…”

  “Why can you say everything else but that?” she demands. “Why can you claim me, possess me, and work your ass off to keep me, but you won’t say that? Why can you demand that I say the words, but you’re too afraid to say them yourself?”

  The words are literally caught in my throat. She doesn’t know how many times I’ve wanted to say those three damned words. Or how terrified I was when they first flared to life in the back of that damned car.

  She doesn’t know.

  Because I just…

  Can’t.

  Say.

  Them.

  Taylor nods with a sigh and smooths her hands over her sides. “I get it. I do. You think you love me and you don’t want to lose me. You equate love with possession, but that’s not how it works. Love is sacrifice.” Her eyes meet mine. “Love is letting go.”

  A memory I’ve tried so fucking hard to forget over the years suddenly floods my brain.

  Mila’s tear-stained face. Blood flecked around her mouth. A fresh bruise blooming across her cheek.

  “Please, Ilarion,” she sobbed. “Please…if you love me…if you love me…let me do it.”

  I dropped to my knees in front of her, begging the only way I knew how. “It will eat you up from the inside out, Mila,” I pleaded with her. “It’s not an easy thing to look a man in the eye and pull the trigger.”

  “I want to watch him die. I want to watch that poisoned soul leave his body.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I’ve had years—fucking years—to think about what to ask when the time came. I know what I want.”

  “Let me do it for you,” I said. “Let me carry this—”—

  “I’m stronger than you think,” she insisted. “Please, Ilarion. If you love me…let me do it.”

  “Ilarion.”

  I blink, and I’m staring at Taylor, not Mila. As different as the two situations are—“night and fucking day” doesn’t even begin to cover it—it doesn’t feel that different. It feels like I’m being asked to prove my love, all over again.

  “What’s the plan, Taylor?” I ask.

  She shuts her eyes. “She loves you. Benedict knows that she’s your fiancée. You need a wife. All three things suggest that marrying Cee is the right thing to do.”

  “And where does that leave you?”

  “When she’s recovered, I will tell her that…that I’m pregnant.”

  My eyes harden as I understand where she’s going. I hate it now with a thousand times more white-hot intensity than I did the first time around, when I already fucking despised it. “You still want to pass off the baby as someone else’s?”

  “It’s the only way,” she says again, as if repetition will make it tolerable. “You will have a niece or nephew, not a daughter or son. You’ll still get to see them grow—”

  “But I won’t be able to claim them as mine.”

  “No.”

  “That baby in your belly is my heir.”

  She shakes her head. “Make heirs with your wife, Ilarion. This baby has to be mine and mine alone.”

  “You think it’s going to be easy? To watch my child grow and act detached from it all?”

  “You do pretty well already.”

  She might as well have slapped me across the face. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Taylor runs a hand through her hair, and for a moment, the gesture distracts me. I want so badly to touch her hair, to run my fingers through it. To just hold her and forget this whole conversation ever happened.

  “I don’t mean it to be cruel.” She smiles at me sadly. “You’re just really good at not expressing your emotions. You’re practiced at hiding how you truly feel.” She lets out a crazed little laugh, but I don’t know what’s so funny. “You and Cee actually have that in common. It’s how we landed in this mess, isn’t it?”

  Stop pointing things out. Stop making sense. Stop fucking seeing me, goddammit!

  “This city might just be too small for all three of us, Ilarion,” she adds softly. “After the baby’s born…after the…the wedding…” Her voice sticks on the final word. “After that, I’ll leave.”

  My blood runs cold. A fleeting image of a future without Taylor in it flashes before me, and I want to vomit.

  But, as she said, I’m very good at pretending. “Where to?”

  “Not far.” She shrugs. “Just one or two states over. Iowa, maybe. I always thought it was pretty out there. But it doesn’t really matter where. Just far enough that we don’t have to see each other all the time. But not so far that we can't visit now and then.”

  I grind my teeth. “You’ve got it all worked out, don’t you?”

  “Ilarion—”

  “No.”

  “‘No’?” she repeats. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that your plan is short-sighted and idiotic. What happens if the baby looks exactly like me?”

  “I’m willing to take that risk if it means preserving Cee’s feelings.” She shakes her head. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “Then allow me to make mine,” I snarl. “When Celine has properly recovered, I’m going to sit her down and tell her the truth.”

  Taylor’s eyes go wide. “No—”

  “I’m going to end our engagement and allow her the opportunity to meet and marry a man who truly loves her the way that she deserves to be loved.”

  “Please, Ilarion, don’t do this.”

  “And under no fucking circumstances am I forfeiting the right to my own child,” I add in a menacing growl. “That is not happening. If you want to move states, you go right ahead. But our baby is staying with me.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  I lean in. “Watch me.”

  “My sister—”

  “I don’t give a damn about your sister!” I shout before I can stop myself.

  Her eyes cloud over for a moment. “I don’t care what you give a damn about.”

  “Clearly.”

  “The only thing I care about here is Celine. As long as she wants the marriage to continue—”

  “She’s not going to want to marry me when she knows the truth.”

  “Ilarion, please, you can’t tell her.”

  “To protect you?”

  “I’m not worried about me. I want to protect her!”

  “You want to lie to her!” I exclaim. “What kind of fucking sister are you?” Hurt and doubt pool in her eyes, but I don’t give her a chance to respond. I grab her arm and haul her back to the Hummer. “Get the fuck inside and be quiet. We’re done talking.”

  She’s quiet when I get into the driver’s seat and lock the doors. Tear after tear rolls down her cheek. It rips me apart inside to pretend I don’t notice.

  “I don’t know what she ever saw in you,” she whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know what I saw in you.”

  I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say, really—it’s a mystery to me, too. Voicing it out loud is just her way of inflicting the kind of agony I know she’s enduring.

  Pain has a lot in common with misery.

  They both love company.

  73

  ILARION

  Mila and Dima are both in the foyer when Taylor and I enter.

  “Where’s my father?” Taylor asks immediately, rushing toward Mila.

  “He’s in the medical wing with Celine,” she replies. “He’s a little worse for the wear, but otherwise, he’s doing good.”

  Taylor’s back goes rigid. “They hurt him?”

  “He’s okay, Taylor,” Mila reassures in a comforting tone that I haven’t often heard from her. “Just focus on that, okay? He’s a tough man. The only thing he wanted to know is if you and Celine were safe.”

  Taylor frowns. “Did he ask about Mom ?”

  Mila sighs. “Of course he did.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “He was…not in the greatest state of mind when we found him,” she admits. “So no, I didn’t tell him about Fiona. I figured you might want to.”

  “And Celine?”

  “She’s still groggy and disoriented from all the drugs. She hasn’t really asked much of anything.”

  Despite herself, Taylor glances over at me. Then she seems to remember the fact that she currently hates my guts, because she turns away almost as fast. “What does Dr. Baranov say? Is she expected to recover?”

  “Based on his initial tests, she’ll be okay,” Mila assures her. “She’s going to need a little physical therapy where her limbs are concerned. Just to regain her strength. But she’s going to be just fine.”

  Taylor's breaths come out heavy and labored. One after another, faster and faster, like a train rushing down the tracks with its brakes cut.

  “Hey,” Mila interrupts, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. “You need to calm down.”

  “I…I have to tell them… I have to…”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” asks Mila.

  “No!” Taylor shakes her head, though she sounds uncertain. “No. I’ll… I have to do it myself.”

  She gives Dima a passing nod and goes upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. The moment she disappears through the passageway, Mila and Dima turn to me.

  “What the hell happened between the two of you?” Mila blurts. “You might as well have walked in with your fists raised. I’m guessing Celine’s miraculous recovery didn’t feel so miraculous?”

  “Taylor is relieved her sister’s okay.” I say it as diplomatically as I can and try to avoid the rest, but I can’t stop my jaw from clenching. It’s been doing that since our last leg home.

  Dima arches a brow. “But…?”

  I don’t respond. I don’t know where to even begin to explain the insanity. The shitshow I’m buried neck-deep in.

  Mila’s eyes go wide. “Ilarion—”

  “I was willing to break off the engagement and come clean with Celine.” Sticking to the facts is easier than voicing the pain. “She’s not.”

  “Shit,” Dima hisses under his breath. “How’s she going to explain the baby?”

  “Some random one-night-stand.” I want to punch a wall just saying that out loud. “All I get to be is an uncle and a goddamn mysterious, nameless, one-night-stand.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Mila spits. “It’s a waste of three people’s lives.”

  “You know how Taylor can be.” I shrug, even as I’m boiling inside. “She’s fucking stubborn.”

  “So are you,” Mila scoffs. “But in this case, you happen to be right.”

  “You can talk to her.” Dima turns to my sister. “Talk some sense into her.”

  Mila frowns. “Me? Why me?”

  “Because the two of you have a special bond. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  “You’re her fucking toffee Santa Claus. You talk to her!”

  “Enough.” I hold up my hands to silence them. “There’s no point in talking to Taylor. I’ve already made my decision and I’ve informed Taylor of what’s going to happen.”

  “That’s not going to end well,” Mila warns gently.

  “No, I don’t expect it will.” I sigh. “Now—the mission. Tell me everything.”

  Mila and Dima exchange a glance.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Celine has been asking for you nonstop since she woke up. You don’t want to—?”

  “I’ll give Taylor some time alone with her family and then I’ll go up there. First, I need to know where we stand with Benedict.”

  They exchange another meaningful glance. I fucking hate when they do this nonverbal shit in front of me.

  “The alarms were ringing when we left the extraction site,” Dima explains wearily. “He would almost certainly have been informed shortly after. The warehouse where Archie was being kept was heavily guarded, but neither Benedict nor his brother were there.”

  “So they weren’t expecting it.”

  “They didn’t have a goddamn clue.”

  That is the first thing to bring a smile to my face in what feels like ages. I wish I could’ve been there to see Benedict’s jaw hit the floor when he realizes that he just lost his only source of leverage.

  “He’s going to try to get to Celine,” Mila suggests.

  “Or you,” Dima adds.

  I roll my eyes. “I fucking wish he’d try.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” I turn to see one of my security guards at the entrance with a solemn frown. “A car approached the gate a minute ago. They threw out a body and drove away.”