Page 71 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

I shook my head, desperation and fear clawing at my chest. But there was hate too. It was such a strong feeling, I feared it’d suffocate me. I wanted to fight him. Maybe even kill this man. But my strength was nonexistent.

“I want nothing to do with you and your family,” I choked out.

“Don’t come around us again,” he hissed. He tightened his grip around my neck once again for good measure. “Just remember what I can do to your sister.”

He released my throat, my hands falling onto the bed. Greedily, I gasped for air. My nails throbbed from clawing at him. Oxygen seeped into my lungs, and I panted while the senator turned around and strode out of the room.

This time, I stared at the door and clutched the hospital sheets, fearing he’d come back. I never wanted to see him again. I never wanted to cross paths with him—nor Byron—again. One came with the other. They were a package deal, and I couldn’t survive the senator. So I’d avoid the Ashfords at all costs.

The door opened again and I reached for the emergency button next to me. I didn’t think I could scream loud enough. But before I pressed it, an old, familiar voice came through.

“Ma chérie. What happened?”

Marco stood in the doorway, as handsome as ever. His jeans hugged his hips and the button-down silky black shirt made him look like… well, like a gigolo or something. Yet, I had no energy to even give him a hard time about it.

“Marco,” I said. My voice sounded strange to my ears. Low and hollow. Lifeless. Beaten. I didn’t even wonder what he was doing here. I had nothing—no spark, no life—left in me. He closed the distance to the hospital bed and took my hands into his. “What have they done to you?”

My breaths seemed to take too much energy. Words even more so. “Car accident.”

“Baby?”

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I attempted to take a lungful of air in. My breaths were shaky. My heart was achy. And my body… it felt broken.

“Lost.” Why did it hurt to say it?

He shook his head. “Non. You’re still pregnant.” Hope and confusion fluttered in my heart. My eyes sought out his, and found nothing but a somber expression. No trace of a tasteless joke or maybe some mistake.

“How? Why?” I rasped. “I don’t understand.”

He took a deep breath, sadness and another feeling lingering in his eyes. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. “My girlfriend works here. Tristan’s sister.” I blinked, then remembered the serious woman I spoke to briefly all those months ago. “This was to protect you. From them.”

At that moment, I couldn’t quite determine if Marco had saved me, or stolen something from me.

But one thing was certain. I wouldn’t risk my baby’s life by staying close to the Ashfords.

Pushing the memory away, I focused on our current situation. I had no choice but to reach out to Byron. It was our last lifeline.

I squared my shoulders. I’d just ask for a loan. Ares couldn’t get caught in the middle of all this shit. Revealing Ares as Byron’s son would be my last resort.

“Tell me again why we didn’t ask Nico Morrelli for false identifications?” Billie demanded to know. Desperation laced her words. I could see it in her eyes too. It reflected what I felt in my heart.

I let out a heavy sigh. “We both know we have no money to pay him for it. I doubt falsified documents for the three of us would cost less than ten grand. It’s not like my Hilton rewards points would cover that bill.”

“Maybe he would have given us a discount,” she grumbled.

“Or called the feds and had us sent to federal prison.”

“Now what?” She ran both hands through her blonde hair. “If we can’t pay for the fake documents, we certainly can’t come up with a million dollars in the next”—she glanced down at her watch—“thirty-six hours.”

We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pedestrians never missing a step. They rushed around us, some even shot glares at us. My eyes traveled around us and a small shop caught my attention. A bookstore with coffee tables, and piles and piles of books.

“Let’s go inside,” I said, my eyes darting over Billie’s shoulder. She turned around to see what I was looking at. “Ares can have hot chocolate and books to read while we talk.”

A happy squeal sounded, and before my sister could even agree, we were being dragged into the store.

The minute we stepped inside, coffee beans and the smell of books on the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled the air. The tension in my shoulders eased slightly, and we roamed around until we found an empty table, right next to the children's section.

“Who wants hot chocolate?” I asked.