Page 85 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

“But you were about to, weren’t you?” I shake my head, pressing my lips together before something sharp slips out. I don’t have the energy to fight- not now.

Achilles exhales slowly and rubs a hand over his face. “I just…” He hesitates, shifts in his seat like he’s trying to get comfortable in a conversation that will never be. “I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

I scoff, the sound bitter and unsteady. “Then don’t.”

The silence that follows is thick, wrapping around us like smoke.

His gaze flicks toward the untouched phone, his fingers tapping idly against the table. We’re both thinking the same thing.

Piers should have called by now.

Achilles clears his throat again. “Have you been safe?”

I hesitate. It’s a simple question, but there’s nothing simple about the answer. I could lie, could give him something easy to swallow. But my life hasn’t been easy, and Achilles, whether he likes it or not, is part of the reason why.

I don’t look at him as I answer. “Safe is relative.”

His fingers still. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” I say, voice quieter now. “It’s not.”

Another pause. Then, softer, like he’s not sure he wants the answer, “Did you ever… have anyone looking out for you?”

For a brief, fleeting second, an image of Piers flashes in my mind—his arms around me, his voice in my ear, the way he used to steady me when the world felt too sharp. But that was a long time ago. And it doesn’t matter now.

I swallow hard. “I looked out for myself.”

For a year, I told myself I hated Achilles for what he did. That he betrayed me. That I’d been robbed of the life I was meant to have. But standing here now, with my nerves frayed and my past clawing at the edges of my mind, I can’t drown out the truth any longer.

I wasn’t fit to lead.

I wasn’t prepared for the responsibility. I was a pawn in a game I didn’t understand, playing catch-up to the life I’d been handed. Raised to hate the Warwicks, trained to take them down- my mother’s vendetta was never my own, but it shaped me, molded me into someone who thought vengeance was my birthright. I used every weapon I had- every connection, every ally- to take control, even when I knew the damage it would do.

And for what? Power? Revenge?

I thought taking what was mine would fill the hole inside me, but it never did. It just swallowed me whole, and by the end of it, I barely recognized the woman I’d become.

And Achilles saw it.

I steal a glance at him, sitting there, his fingers loosely interlocked, his brow furrowed in thought. He doesn’t regret exiling me- I can see it in the squared set of his shoulders, the firm press of his mouth. Maybe I was too blinded by my own fury to see it before, but now I do. He did what had to be done.

And now- I know what I have to do.

The words are there, waiting to be said, but I’ve never been good at apologies. But for the first time in a long while, I can’t ignore it anymore. “I was wrong, Achilles.”

His eyes flicker toward me, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I was reckless. I put everything at risk- our family, the estate, and you. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now. I thought I could force the world to bend to my will, but it only fractured everything I touched. I was wrong to turn on Piers. Wrong to make it all about revenge. And I’m sorry.”

There’s a long pause, but this time, it feels like the air is clearing, just a little.

I don’t know how much time passes, but when a knock at the door cuts through the silence, my heart stops. My breath catches in my throat.

I bolt upright, my pulse hammering. This is it. The only thing that’s mattered since I got here.

Achilles moves to open the door, but I’m already there, yanking it open myself.

Piers stands in the doorway, cradling a small, sleeping form against his chest.

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