It’s been one month since my bloodwork came back as normal. No signs of foul play. So when I woke up this morning with severe nausea and an aversion to the smell of coffee, I knew it wasn’t some delayed side effect of whatever happened to me in Colorado.

Just as Jason had promised, a doctor came in and looked me over, claiming that I was okay. This did little to appease an overprotective Jason, but between the security at the property and the men of WRATH looking into the incident, he felt it was safe enough for me to be alone on the trip back to Florida.

And here I am, living in a massive penthouse, complete with a fully armored G-wagon. Like some sort of princess in a tower, all with my very own rotation of security guards.

Hopefully that’ll change when I move to Montana next month.

But this morning, as I leaned over the toilet bowl and relieved myself of whatever I could stomach last night, I wondered if that’s even going to be possible.

I’d been ignoring the signs—chalking them up to PMS and heartache—but as the second wave of nausea hit me, I knew it was time to go to the doctor.

And who did I call? Dr. Pengraff, of course.

I know it might be weird for me to seek out my mother’s OB. But she’s the best in her field and I know her already, having accompanied Catherine to one of her appointments in the last month.

It’s hard to replace a doctor you trust, let alone like. And besides, they follow HIPPA, right? It’s not like they can tell Catherine about my visit unless I expressly allow it.

So, yes. I booked an appointment and snuck out of the massive fortress I call home.

There’s no way I could have told the security detail where I was going. They’d report it to Jason in a heartbeat, and then I’d really be screwed.

As if I’m not already. I fidget with the strap of my purse, sitting in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, waiting to be called. Waiting for them to tell me if my life is irrevocably changed.

Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it in stride, of that I have no doubt.

“Mila Kournikova.” A tall brunette in scrubs calls my name from the door and my knees wobble as I stand.

Stride my ass. I’m nothing but a shaking bundle of nerves as she hands me a cup.

“Bathroom is down the hall to the right. Fill it up to the line and then place it in the window.” She’s shutting the door behind me as we step into the hall. “Once you’re done, make your way into room three. Dr. Pengraff will be with you shortly.”

I nod and do as she says, walking straight toward the door marked as the bathroom. God, I wonder why I didn’t take a pregnancy test before coming here. Now the suspense of not knowing if I am is making my stomach turn even more than normal.

But I know, don’t I?

My mind is a jumble of thoughts as I quickly fill the cup before placing it on the window as instructed, wondering how things will change if I am, in fact, with child.

But I haven’t even finished washing my hands and clearing my head when the bathroom door pushes open. What the hell?! I thought I’d locked it.

Taking in the brunette that’s just walked in, I see that she’s wearing scrubs. She must work here, but this can’t be normal. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Mila Kournikova.” Her brows are pushing together as she looks me over. “Catherine Kournikova’s daughter, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. Tell that bitch she still owes me my money.” She’s glaring at me as if I were garbage.

“What?” I’m truly confused. Jason said he’d be covering all of her expenses, so I have no clue what this crazy woman is talking about.

“You heard me. She owes me my money.” She’s cracking the door open, peering out to ensure no one is outside. “She begged me to use an old ultrasound recording on her first visit. But every time she’s been here since, she’s ghosted me. Refusing to pay up the ten thousand she’d promised.”

My eyes are as wide as saucers as the petite blonde steps half-way into the hallway. “Look, I see you had no fucking clue. But tell your mother that if she doesn’t pay up, there’s no way in hell I’m helping her out on her next visit. She’s on her own.”

And with that, she’s exiting the small bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaving me with my heart in my throat.

Holy-fucking-shit. She isn’t pregnant. Catherine isn’t pregnant.

Oh my god. I have to tell Jason. I have to confront my mother.

I can’t stay still knowing what I do now. Needing to take action right this minute, I rush into the hallway and past the entrance to Dr. Pengraff’s office.

My mind is a blur of thoughts as I step onto the sidewalk, wondering whom I should tell first. Will my mother deny it? Will she have some sort of excuse?

I have no clue. All I know is that this changes everything. If I am pregnant with Jason’s baby, then we can actually be together. But will he still want me? I rejected him. Made him feel as if his love wasn’t enough.

God. I need to fix this. All of this.

And I will. As soon as I—

Screeching tires have me whirling around, just in time to see a blacked-out van stop right beside me. What—?

As the back door slides open, two muscular arms covered in ink reach out and grab me, the last thing I see being a dark set of eyes beneath a ski mask. Darkness takes my vision once more, and I’m left wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to make things right. I want to. God, how I want to.

So as my consciousness fades, I throw out one last prayer to the powers that be. Please, if you’re out there, give me another chance.

Jason

“Sir. She isn’t in her vehicle.”

Pressure builds behind my lids, and I swear I’m about to shoot laser beams with how furious I am. “What the fuck do you mean she isn’t in her vehicle? Where is she?”

Armando’s features take a bleak turn from concerned to scared. Armando is never scared. “Jason. I think she’s been taken.”

My heart stops and the world slows around me. I couldn’t have heard right. Not possible. I have security around her 24/7. The idea that they took her is laughable, right?

“By the time her detail figured out she’d slipped out of the penthouse, it was already too late.” He rubs at the back of his neck, his fingers squeezing at the guilt he undoubtedly feels. “When they reached her vehicle, it had been parked for quite some time and there was no sign of her anywhere.”

My eyes narrow, ready to rain down hell on him for letting this happen. “And where the fuck were you? You were the one in charge of her detail. I trusted you.”

“I know, sir. I’m sorry.” He takes two dangerous steps forward before he’s dropping a folder on my desk. “I was on the phone. Raul is missing and they think he’s back in the states.”

Fuuuuck.” I’m ripping the envelope open and staring at photos of someone who looks like Raul boarding a commercial flight, the switchboard in the back showing that he is, in fact, back in the states. Yes, it says California, but who knows if that was just a connecting flight on his way to Florida. “When were these taken?”

“About forty-eight hours ago. But sir, there’s more.”

“Of course there fucking is.” I throw my head back and growl.

“Based on the location of Ms. Kournikova’s vehicle, we believe she was at Dr. Pengraff’s office before she was taken.”

For the second time in ten minutes, my heart stops and world turns. Is she? Could she be? It’s been over a month, and yes, like some psycho, I’d been telling my men to keep an eye out for early pregnancy symptoms. I didn’t buy the bullshit she said about not having ovulated or whatever.

Look at what happened to Catherine. She’s in her forties, I double-gloved, and she still got pregnant. Clearly, I have super sperm. Those suckers probably waited around for her egg to drop, attacking it like little baby infusing vampires.

Oh god. If she is pregnant and something happens to that child because of Raul, so help me god, I will end him, once and for all.

“Find her. You need to do whatever it takes to get her back to me in one piece, or it’s everyone’s ass on the line. I don’t give a shit. I’ll paint this town red with the blood of everyone who let her down.” Crumpling the photo of Raul in my hand, I glare at my old-time friend. “I don’t care what it takes. You hear me? Bring her back to me.”

“Got it.” And with a nod, Armando moves to leave my office.

He might be my confidant and friend, but if he fails me one more time, he’s as good as dead.

There’s a knock at my door and I’m about to rip Armando’s head off. “What?!”

“Jason?” Catherine’s voice has my tone softening, but just a bit. The news I’m about to deliver can’t be easy, even if she isn’t close to her daughter.

“Catherine. Sit down.” I point toward a chair in front of me.

“Is everything okay? I heard shouting.” Her brows furrow and face pales.

There’s no easy way of saying this, so I just spit it out. “Mila is missing.”

“Missing? Are you sure she just hasn’t gone off somewhere? You know how independent she is.”

I’m rubbing a palm over my face, wishing it were that simple. That she’d just gotten tired of being trailed by my men. But the crumpled-up photo of my nemesis tells a different story. “No. We think she’s been taken.”

“What?!” At this she startles, her previously pale face going even paler, if that’s possible. “How? When? Who?”

“We aren’t one-hundred percent sure, but my men are on it. We’re doing whatever it takes to bring her back. Of that you have my word.”

Catherine is up before I’ve even finished my sentence, rounding my desk and inserting her slender arms around my waist. “Jason, oh god. Thank you.”

I give her a comforting pat on the back.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” I’m the reason she’s missing in the first place. Of that I have no doubt. I brought her into my world, one where this damned feud with a cartel has stolen her and our child’s future.

No. Don’t think like that. We will replace her. And we will bring her back.

I’d been too lost in my thoughts to notice Catherine’s hands slipping to my belt, her red-tipped fingers now trying to undo my zipper.

“Catherine, what the fuck?” I’m pushing her hands away forcefully, taking two steps back for good measure.

“Jason, I—I just wanted to thank you. Properly.” She takes a step forward, but I hold up my palm. “You’ve been so good to me and my daughter. I wanted to show you how much that means to me.”

“No, Catherine. Do not mistake my actions for something they’re not.” I round the corner of my desk, putting even more distance between us. “Mila is my world, and as soon as we get her back, I plan on letting her know this. I’m not letting her out of my sight for one goddamn minute, and that’s something you better get used to. I’m sorry this is how you had to replace out, but I can’t live a lie this big anymore. I love your daughter, and I plan on building the rest of my life with her.”

“But Jason. Our baby!” She’s clutching her abdomen, big fat tears spilling down her face.

“I’ll still be there for my child, but I can’t continue to pretend that I’ll lead a happy life by your side as anything other than a co-parent.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a long breath. “I will always be that child’s father, but living a farce with their mother will only do it more harm than good. I just can’t do that.”

“You can’t possibly mean all of that.”

“I do. Now, I understand if you don’t want to live here anymore, but I promise I can set you up in whatever home of your choosing. For now, stay as long as you need. In fact, it’s probably better. That way you can stay constantly informed with our search for Mila. Shit. I can’t believe that’s even something I have to say.”

“Look, Jason.” She drops her arms to her sides, a steely resolve coming over her features. “I see that you’re upset right now. Probably not thinking clearly.” Catherine walks toward the door but continues to speak. “Just know that I will be staying here, and we can revisit this once you’ve calmed down. Hopefully, you’ll have come around once you’ve realized Mila is just off somewhere asserting her independence like she always does. That child isn’t reliable, and that’s something you best learn now before you drop me over her.”

She’s raising a brow as if I’m crazy, but the only crazy one here is her. She must be if she thinks I’ll ever choose her over Mila. Hell, the only reason I slept with her in the first place was because she looked so much like her daughter.

But she doesn’t give me the opportunity to respond because she’s left my office as soon as the last words slip past her delusional mouth.

It’s for the best. I’m in no state to talk down crazy. I’m barely hanging on by a thread and it’s a miracle I could be as gentle with my news as I was.

Heading over to my phone, I know it’s about to get a whole lot crazier. I’m getting ready to unleash WRATH’s lethal sector on Raul and whatever minions he has left.

We annihilated his cartel’s henchmen, killing off what we thought was every last one of them, save for him and his brother. It appears we must’ve missed a few.

Well, no more of that. Like men on death row, their fate is sealed and their blood marked as mine.

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