Page 6

Twins. A boy and a girl. My children.

The realisation hit me like a sledgehammer to my chest, knocking the air from my lungs and weakening my legs—that night. The night I thought of, dreamt of—the burst condom. Me spilling myself inside of her, but she was gone. Without a word, she snuck out like a thief carrying my seed inside of her. Now, she was here, in Dublin. She was with them.

My children, my blood.

I clenched my hands to stop them from shaking. I wanted to scream at her. To demand answers but I couldn't take my eyes off my children. They weren't babies anymore. I traced every detail of their faces, bodies and eyes. They were a perfect blend of both of us. They were mine.

Love surged through me, fierce and overwhelming, mingling with the anger. I wanted to hold them, to whisper sweet promises that I didn't know how I could keep. I was a stranger to them. The thought tore at my insides like a raw, open wound.

“You—” I hissed at her but forced myself to stop.

I raised my hand, but she flinched and placed her body before the stroller, shielding the children as if I were a threat. The action gutted me, but I also felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over me.

“Please,” she whispered. “Not in front of them.” Her eyes darted to the children, their tiny hands clutching their toys, oblivious to the brewing storm around them.

A woman stepped forward, her expression cautious as she gently took the stroller from the blonde. The blonde hesitated, her gaze flickering between me and the woman taking the stroller. My jaw tightened, and my alpha instincts roared to the surface. I would not let her walk away again. Not now. Not ever.

“Take them home,” she whispered before she bent down to whisper to my babies, kissing them.

I grasped her wrist to ensure she didn’t take off, but I watched as the older woman began to walk away with my children briskly.

“No.”

Yet even as I said the word, I knew I needed to speak to her.

“You left,” I said, my voice low and rough. Each word was laced with accusation and pain as I thought about the twins. “You left before I could tell you that the condom burst.”

Her eyes widened until I saw that obstinance in her. The same one from that night. She yanked her wrist from me to cross her arms over her chest.

“We agreed,” she said, her voice steadier now, though her eyes betrayed her unease. “No names. No strings. That was the deal.”

“The deal didn't include this,” I said, pointing in the direction in which the children went. “You kept them from me. You kept my children from me.”

“I didn't know you,” she said, her voice rising. “I didn't know who you were, what kind of a man you were.”

“Did you even try?” I demanded, stepping closer and towering over her.

She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came from her. All I saw was guilt. Maksim stood by the hotel door with Artyom now beside him. They knew something was wrong and waited for my instructions.

“What is your name?” I said through clenched teeth before I took hold of her wrist again.

“Mariya,” she said, trying to twist her wrist out of my hand.

“Mariya, what?” I asked, checking the road before dragging her behind me.

“Look, I’m on the run trying to avoid my—well, my ex-fiancé and my family,” she said, almost making me stop in the middle of the road.

“Book me in, bring me the key,” I told my men.

Maksim went inside, but Artyom didn’t move. He had my back, and it helped calm me as I soaked in the woman infuriating woman before me.

“You were saying about your fiancé?” I said sarcastically.

She gave up trying to pull her wrist out of my hold.

“When I met you, I was due to fly to Romania the next day. I was forcibly engaged to an absolute creep who was in my life since I was sixteen—”

“Oh, god. What age are you?” I said, looking her up and down in horror.