Page 112 of Emperor of Corruption

It won’t just bemejumping to my death. It’ll be meandmy baby.

I don’t care about the fact that it’s Killian’s—he forfeited his right to be a father long ago.

As emotions begin to return, one drip at a time, so too do physical sensations. Physical sensations likeextremeabdominal cramps. Ones painful enough to make me drop to my knees with a suddenness that rattles me. I clutch at my belly, lips parting over a cry of physical agony.

What the fuck?

What the hell is happening to my baby?The emotions that couldn’t penetrate the fog of shock have now transcended to physical sensations, like my body itself is rejecting my circumstances, vehemently. The pain doubles, then triples, then…

An ungodly scream escapes my lips. It feels like my abdomen is being torn in two. The cramps are the most painful I’veeverfelt…

Tommy shouts something on the phone, but I don’t hear him. All I can do isfeel.

Feel the agony that tears me apart from the inside out.

Feel the scream that grates on my throat…

Feel the liquid that trickles down my leg.

Shock and horror overcome me, enveloping me in a thick fog of sheer terror. My entire body is wrecked with violent tremors, a product of pain mixed with fear.

Dimly, I lay flat on my hardwood floor, hook a hand over my waistband and panties, and tug.

What sits in my panties finally brings the first tear trickling down my cheek.

There’s blood. Alotof blood—more blood than I’ve ever gotten on my period. The space around me looks like a massacre.

And in the center of the blood is aclot the size of my thumb…

Everything after that happens in a haze. I manage to pick the phone back up, lie to Tommy that I'm fine, and tell him to air the article. I hang up and go to my shower, rinsing off the blood. The cramps are still there, but they’ve subsided.

I know without a shadow of a doubt I miscarried… and the person at fault is the same person who’s just destroyed my life with a video. More than destroyed my life—he’s killedmybaby.

I barely feel anything as I throw clothes, the laptop and phone from Tommy, my passport, and a few wads of cash I keep under my mattress into a duffle bag. I know Killian will send someone after me soon—I’m surprised Locke isn’t already knocking down my door, which puts me on a clock.

I pocket a switchblade I haven’t touched since I first found it in my grandma’s drawers and stashed away in the case I’d ever need it.

I take the service staircase down to the ground floor, and niftily avoid any cameras on my way out of my building. On my path away from my old life.

The only thing left in my heart is anger, pain, and a burning need for vengeance—even though the best vengeance I could’ve mustered has already been executed.

Chapter Forty-One

Killian

It’s been an extraordinarily long time since I’ve felt helpless. The last time I remember feeling helpless—trulyhelpless—was when I was a boy.

At the pharmacy with my grandfather. Watching with big eyes as the pharmacist informed him that he didn’t have enough money in his entire savings to pay for the medication, by the looks of him.

I was very young, but even then, I understood the horrible implications of her words. I understood it meant Grandpa would be leaving this earth sooner rather than later, going to a place where no one could access him—whereIcould never again access him. That moment has haunted me throughout the years. It’s driven my decision to be who I am now: a man who willneverbe helpless again.

Yet that’s precisely what I am now.

It’s not the article released that presents the greatest barrier—that’ll be a pain in the ass to navigate, but it's navigable. The only thing making me helpless now is the blood.

It’s all over Lyra’s living room. Trailing a path from beneath the windowsill to the very center of the room. I know what it means; Locke, standing beside me, knows what it means.

My unborn childis dead.