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“You’re lying,” I grit. “Yulian would never?—”

“He wanted bait and a squeeze,” Brad cuts in. “He never signed up for a kid in the mix. He’d fuck you until you got sniped, maybe get a legitimate heir out of you, but that’s it. In exchange, he’d get an exclusive contract with Baldwin Construction.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No?” He opens his arms wide. “Then how do you explain all the coincidences? He took you to my wedding. I popped up at his investors’ meeting—how could I have done that unless he’d invited me?”

“But you fought. You?—”

“The fights were staged,” he explains, a bored note to his tone, like he’s fed up that I don’t get it yet. “He needed to gain your trust for this to work. Seriously, you never suspected? God, you’re even dumber than I remembered.”

I want to spit in his face. Want to call him a liar again, louder.

But then I remember Yulian’s behavior. His hot-and-cold flashes that never seemed to make sense, his initial discomfort towards Eli. The coincidences Brad just talked about, a little too convenient to make sense.

And then his words tonight.

“I guess you never learned your lesson.”

I don’t want to believe it. I refuse .

But what if it’s true?

Tamara—Yulian hired her. He sent her to me. If she was a spy, he’d never miss it.

Which can only mean…

He used me. Not just for his revenge—for everything.

Bitterness pools in my stomach. I have no idea what to believe. All I want right now is for Yulian to come bursting through that door, explain himself to me, tell me he loves me. That he’ll make it all okay.

But he’s not here. And if Brad’s right, he’s not coming at all.

So I need to fix this on my own.

“Send her away,” I murmur, gesturing to Tamara. “Then we can talk.”

“Fine. You, back to the bedroom.”

“With pleasure,” Tamara winks, hips swaying as she retreats behind closed doors.

Finally, we’re alone again.

“It’s game over, Mia.” Brad steps towards me, close, looming.

I can smell alcohol on his breath, and I hate it.

Hate the memories it drags back up for me.

“I can take you for everything you have now. I can sue you for damages, petition the court for Eli’s custody, report you to the State Board for unethical conduct.

You’ll lose your job, your license, your parental rights.

You’ll be penniless and alone, just like you deserve. ”

Brad’s words sink into me like claws. They’re not idle threats—they’re a preview.

I can see that future unfolding plain as day: Adams giving me the pink slip, my landlord evicting me, CPS declaring me an unfit mother.

I could never work again as a nurse in the State of New York.

I could never see my son without supervision, without Brad’s approval.

And yet, at the same time, I’d never leave the city. Because leaving would mean losing my son for good. I’d be homeless, reduced to begging on the streets, surfing between Kallie and Reese’s couches on the coldest nights of the year.

Until they got sick of me, too.

And then I’d really have no one.

“Please,” I find myself whispering. “Please, Brad, don’t do this.”

He cups my chin. I want to jerk away so badly, but I force myself to keep still. Because right now, he has all the power, and I’ve got nothing.

Just like back then.

“There’s another way, you know.” He drops in close, his whiskey breath acrid on my nostrils. “A way for you to earn Eli’s forgiveness. A way to keep him.”

Hope sparks in my chest. “What’s that?”

“Come back to me.” He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. “Let us be the family we were always supposed to be. I never liked Yulian’s part of the plan—fucking you until you died. It was a bit much, even for me.”

“You shouldn’t have agreed to it, then.”

“I did what I had to do. But now, I don’t have to play nice with him anymore.” He lowers his lips to mine, speaking right against them. It makes my stomach roil. “You deserve better than a lie, Mia. We all do.” He glances towards Eli as he says this. “Don’t you agree?”

My heart is hammering now. A drum of war. “And how am I supposed to believe you’ve changed?”

“You give me a chance to prove it.” He starts playing with my hair, like he used to do back then. It gives me the chills, but I let him. I’ve got no other choice. “I didn’t hit you tonight, did I? Even if you made me angry.”

“What do you want, a fucking medal?”

“I want you to trust me.” He takes my hand, squeezes it just on the wrong side of too hard. “I want us to be whole. You, me, Eli—our family. Let me mend what you broke.”

I’ve never wanted to run so bad. Every instinct is screaming at me that I can’t trust this man—this monster pretending to be a father to my child.

“Don’t look so afraid,” he tuts. “I won’t touch you until you’re ready. Consent is all the rage these days, didn’t you hear?”

“No offense, Brad, but that sounds like the bare minimum.”

“God, you’re never happy, are you?” He rolls his eyes, steps back from me. “Maybe this will motivate you.”

Then he pulls out a gun.

My blood freezes. “Brad, put that down.”

But he doesn’t aim it at me. Instead, he presses it on the glass, right at the heart of the spider cracks he made. Right towards…

Eli.

“Let’s see if this works better,” he says with an eerie sort of calm. “Either you do as I say, or I’ll shoot the little bastard in the head. How’s that for a deal?”

“Don’t you call him that,” I snarl. “Don’t you ever call him that.”

He taps the gun to the glass. The spider cracks grow wider. “Tick-tock, Euphemia. What will it be?”

I’ve never felt so outraged in my life. Never been so fucking furious. But all of that pales in comparison to the terror of seeing my son—my world—being held at gunpoint in his bed.

“Three,” Brad counts down.

I rack my brain for a choice— any choice.

“Two.”

Trust Brad. Trust Yulian. Are those really my only options?

“One.”

I open my mouth to speak…