103
ORION
“Hold still,” I snap, grabbing Cassian’s arm when he leans away from where I’m working. He makes a noise of complaint, but it’s so low that it could be a noise of pain.
“Sorry,” Cassian murmurs. “It wasn’t as sore when the cold was numbing it.”
“Probably because you were under water for so long that half your nerves went and gave up.” Another swift stitch and the bullet hole in his arm pulls closed. It’s messy, but we don’t have time to make things look nice. I cover the wound with tape while we talk.
“Fuck,” Cassian whimpers when I press on the wound. A few rivulets of blood roll down his bicep, leaving a glistening trail over bruised flesh.
“Don’t be such a baby.”
Cassian repeats the phrase back to me in Russian, adding an obviously mocking inflection to the words. I cover the wound with gauze and tape it down, then toss two painkillers into his waiting palm.
“Take those and then we’ll go save Lucian.” Sweeping the medical supplies off the kitchen counter, I open the trash and toss them inside. Only, something strange nestled in the garbage catches my eye and I freeze.
“How the hell are we going to get Lucian to believe us?” Cassian continues oblivious. “We’ve already seen that he’s not in the right mindset—and I don’t blame him at all but if we’re not careful, he’ll kill us. And then Vincent will kill him when there’s no one left to protect him. The strongest family in the Bratva will crumble and all the smaller families will end up fodder in a?—”
Cassian falls silent when I press my discovery into his open palm.
A pregnancy test.
It’s positive.
“Pregnant,” Cassian murmurs slowly. His eyes widen, and his fingers close over the test. Our gazes connect.
“Aurora?”
“Who else,” I snort. “Fuck. Fuck. This is all so fucked.” Aurora is pregnant. She’s the only person in the house that could be, and I don’t think Vincent would go this far trying to break Lucian’s heart. This is too gentle of a blow to be a trick or part of any plan. It must be legit.
“What…what does this mean?” Cassian looks just as lost as I feel, although that could be from the blow to the head and the near-death experience in the pool. I take the test back and shove it into my back pocket.
“We’ll have to deal with this after. One thing at a time or we’ll lose everyone. Hurry up and get dressed.”
“Right.” Cassian spurs into action and he leaves the counter, dressing himself quickly in the dry clothes I found in the hamper when we entered the kitchen. He scoops his long hair back into a ponytail and secures it with a band while my mind runs in circles, trying to work out how the pregnancy fits.
Why didn’t she tell anyone? Is that why she went to the pharmacy yesterday? How could I have been so blind?
“Is it true,” Cassian begins, deftly buttoning his shirt. “Lucian loves Aurora?”
I met his gaze. “Yes. I know it for a fact.”
“How?”
“Because I do too. And I know Lucian. I’ve known him long enough that I know when someone’s gotten under his skin.”
“Fuck.” Cassian shakes his head and picks up his pistol. “Me three. Never thought I’d be sharing my love with my two enemies.”
“We’re still enemies?” I lift a brow. “I’ll put you back in that pool if so.”
“You know what I mean.” Cassian rolls his eyes. “Does this make us fools, or will it help us?”
“Depends if we can get through to Lucian or not,” I mutter, sliding the safety back on my gun. “And I think I know exactly how to reach him.”
The plan to rescue Lucian wasn’t intricate by any means. In fact, we chose the simple approach of locating where he was on the security cameras and then headed there, killing anyone who got in our way. All we had to do was get Lucian to listen to me, and if that was successful, the second part of the plan—getting Vincent to confess—would go easier.
With several of Vincent’s men dead at my feet, I kick open the door to the study and stride inside with Cassian at my back. Lucian is near the window, and he jumps at our intrusion while Vincent sits at the desk as if he is once again, head of the family.
“What is the meaning of this?” Vincent barks.
My heart aches the moment Lucian’s eyes lock onto mine. He’s heartbroken, and the distress of his daughter’s condition is overruling any other logical thought in his mind. I can tell at just a glance. And I understand. Which is why I’m hoping he will listen to me.
The lone guard by the fireplace surges forward, weapon raised but I’m faster. I shoot him between the eyes and he crumples down dead on the Persian rug. Blood pools around his body when I step over him and face Lucian. In the reflection of the glass cabinet to the left of Lucian, I glimpse Cassian kneeling over the man I just killed, but it’s unclear what he’s doing.
I refuse to take my eyes off Lucian to check.
“You son of a bitch,” Vincent snarls. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were nothing but a feral beast but if you are this incapable of taking orders and following the will of your—you!”
His wrinkled eyes widen when he finally clocks Cassian standing behind me and his gaze turns wicked.
“You see, Lucian? One snake in your home has poisoned all the others. You dare to stand there and tell me Orion is the most loyal out of all your men. See how the traitor still lives!”
I lift my gun and aim it at Vincent, my gaze still on Lucian.
Fury passes across his face like a shadow and he steps forward, angling himself between me and his father.
“Don’t you dare,” Lucian growls. “Don’t you dare come in here and threaten my fa?—”
“Lucian, listen to me!” I yell as loud as I dare, cutting him off. “You’re angry at the wrong people. I know you’re in pain. I know you’re hurting. Believe me, I know. But your father turning up here like this isn’t some kind of incredible change of heart to save you. All of this, it’s all him!”
Vincent’s old teeth clack together in his indignation.
“I mean, sure. Maybe not Aurora but that’s a special case for…later, but everything else is him. Don’t you see? Please, Lucian. You know me. I need you to trust me, okay? All of this shit is your father’s doing!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” There’s still fury in his eyes, and he still guards his father with his own body, but the question is what I need. The slightest hint of doubt.
“All this time, I couldn’t remember who was trying to kill me or even why,” Cassian says, moving around me. “Any theories I came up with just didn’t make sense because I’m a small fry compared to someone like you. Despite my best efforts.”
“You lie,” Vincent hisses.
“No I don’t,” Cassian snaps back. “For the first time, I remember everything. It was Imro, and your father, that kidnapped me. Tortured me. Tried to kill me. What they didn’t count on was that I would escape, so they talked about their plan for a hostile takeover right in front of me.”
“A hostile takeover of this family,” I add, keeping my gun trained on Vincent. “He wants you dead, Lucian. He wants you dead because you ousted him and he can’t let go. And Imro, well, we all know Imro wants you dead because the scumbag is so power-hungry he doesn’t care who gets devoured.”
“They lie,” Vincent sneers. “It’s all a lie because Cassian is a coward and can’t die with honor.”
“If you do not believe us,” Cassian says calmly. “Then believe this.” He tosses something up into the air toward Lucian. For a moment, I don’t think he’ll catch it from how stoic he has been since we entered, then suddenly his arm darts up and he catches the small object as it glints in the air.
He breaks eye contact with me and stares down at the item, then he very slowly turns to his father.
“If they are lying,” he says, and his voice is more strained than ever. “Then why the hell are your men wearing Imro’s pin?”
A pin? My brows pull together. The Bratva haven’t used pins like that to identify loyalty in so long, but given how stuck Imro is in the past, it makes sense. I send a look to Cassian—good catch.
“You are forgetting,” Vincent says angrily, shoving Lucian’s hand away. “It was Cassian’s men that tried to kill you and put your daughter—my granddaughter— in the hospital! That pin is likely planted and you know it!”
My grip tightens around the gun. Of course he pulls the family card again. He’s going right for Lucian’s open wound and using it against him.
“I have been thinking about that, too,” Cassian remarks. “I know my men. If they did believe that I was dead or in harm's way because of Lucian, then a drive-by is not our style. It’s rather old-fashioned, actually, would you not agree?”
As Cassian speaks, Vincent’s hand disappears under the desk.
“I would not be surprised if those men belonged to Imro or to you yourself, Vincent, because I know my men. While yes, they would come for me if they could, they are covert. They would not risk killing innocents just to save me. You and your pal Imro are so stuck in the past that you cannot think beyond your archaic ways.”
I don’t trust it. Fearing Vincent is about to pull a gun on Cassian, I surge forward and dive across the desk. Pulling his arm free from where it is hidden, where I expect to see a gun, I find a mobile phone clutched in his claw—his personal one, judging by the larger buttons.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Snatching the device from him, Vincent tries to protest but his words fall on deaf ears.
Plan B is the last message sent to an unsaved number.
“What’s ‘plan B’?” I turn the phone toward Lucian. “What the hell have you done?”
“You are a fool,” Vincent sneers up at me. “You have no idea?—”
His words end abruptly when Lucian’s fist slams into his face. He grabs his father by the collar and hauls him out of his wheelchair, shaking him violently.
“Enough!” Lucian roars. “Enough with the games, enough with the lies! Tell me the truth, for once in your miserable life, tell me the goddamn truth!”
