Page 183

…creation and destruction are two sides of the same coin…

“When I leave here,” I announce, “I’m going back to West End with my family.”

There’s a tense moment where I see it sink in. Wicker looks away, fists flexing, but he doesn’t even look surprised. Pace’s nostrils flare like he wants to argue, but in the end, he releases a sharp breath without bothering.

It’s Lex whose stare pins me, the quiet fury obvious in his eyes. “Let me get this straight,” he says, eyes narrowing into slits. “We can’t take our son away from you, but you can take him away from us?”

That voice, smooth and venomous, makes a chill run up my spine. “Right now?” I don’t back down. “Yes.”

Marching over to the bed, he rips the metal chart from the foot of it, holding it up. “Like there’s anyone in West End who’s going to give this baby a fraction of the care I would?” He runs his finger down the first page, fuming. “Who’s going to monitor his heart, Verity? Perilini? Maddox? Bruin? Who’s going to watch over you while you’re on bed rest for two weeks, or—”

He flips over to the next page, but suddenly, his words clip off. The gnarled anger on his face blinks to slack confusion.

“What the…” he flips another page, and then another, eyes zeroing in on something that makes him deflate entirely.

“Lex?” Pace says, frowning at his brother, whose eyes are glued to the chart.

Wicker pushes past Pace. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…” His eyes drag up, darting from Pace to Wicker, then over to me. “These records are more extensive than the ones I have back home.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, dread curdling in my gut. I’ve gone through so many exams tonight—so many blood tests. Maybe one finally came back that wasn’t what we wanted to hear. Urgently, I demand, “Tell me, Lex.”

His gaze meets mine, and all that fiery rage from before is gone. “Father must have updated your and the baby’s records with paternal medical history,” he explains, eyes wide with awe. “It has the paternity results.”

Pace shifts, the sound of his shoes shuffling nervously against the floor acting as an anchor. “Who?” he asks.

Lex looks at me, the question clear in his eyes.

Am I ready to know?

That’s an easy question for me to answer. “The last thing we need between us is another secret.”

Mechanically, he slots the chart back into place, glancing at his brother. “It’s you,” he says, and if someone had told me five seconds ago that I’d ever see light in Lex’s eyes again, I wouldn’t have believed it.

But it shines like the fucking sun.

“It says Wicker is the father.”

* * *

Mama sleepsin my room that first night.

I’m not sure how because the sound of the monitors is maddening, not to mention the nurse coming in to check my and the baby’s vitals all the time. I watch her for a while, curled on my side as I struggle to find a comfortable position. She looks older than she did in January, when I left home, although I can’t really explain it. Her hair and skin are as flawless as ever. There’s just this tightness around her eyes that never really goes away.

Maybe this is what it’s like to be a mother to a Royal.

And maybe also the father to one.

I can’t get the memory of Wicker’s shell-shocked expression out of my mind. The way he stared at Lex like he wasn’t hearing him right. How his stunned gaze pinged between us before shuttering, offering me and his brothers only a single, limp response.

“I guess practice really does make perfect.”

Not exactly confetti and cigars. I try not to be hurt by the memory of him slowly detaching from the rest of us, easing back against the wall. It was no surprise he was reeling from the news, but at that moment, I was too exhausted to fight for him.

At some point, Whitaker Kayes has to learn to fight for himself.

Pace, for his part, just seemed happy to know at all. “One less thing to wonder about,” he said, eyeing my belly with that same, possessive glint. “Security is going to be a bitch. God knows how the Barons are going to take it when they find out.”