Page 75 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

And he didn’t say anything about me.

Cold dread coils through me, wrapping around my ribs like barbed wire. My mouth feels dry, my tongue heavy as lead.

Is he going to kill me?

Has he already made up his mind?

Harold takes a step closer, leaning in until I can smell the stale whiskey on his breath. “Don’t think I’m fool enough to let you walk away from this,” he murmurs, his voice low and sharp. “You’ve been more trouble than you’re worth. But her…” He glances toward Valeria, still limp in that thug’s arms. “If you behave- if you don’t make this harder than it needs to be- maybe I’ll be generous enough to let someone find her once I’m gone.”

The ground seems to sway beneath me.

I suck in a breath, sharp and shaky, my heart pounding so hard it hurts. Harold doesn’t just plan to kill me- he’s going to disappear afterward, leave Valeria stranded somewhere, alone and terrified, if she even survives that long.

My hands curl into fists, nails digging into my palms. I can’t let that happen. Whatever Harold’s plan is, whatever twisted game he’s playing- I have to make sure she survives this.

“Get in,” Harold orders, shoving me toward the van.

I climb in without a fight, too terrified to push back. Valeria’s car seat is strapped in beside me, and the man settles her in place.

I barely breathe until his hands let go, and then- finally- he steps back.

“Mummy’s here,” I whisper, reaching out with trembling hands. My fingers brush her warm, soft cheek. A sob escapes before I can stop it, and I press my palm to her face, feeling her little breath against my skin.

I can’t help myself- I unbuckle her car seat, lifting her into my arms. She’s warm and solid, her head lolling against my shoulder as I hug her tightly to my chest.

I’m shaking- whole-body, gut-deep trembling- but I can’t let go. My tears spill hot and fast, soaking into her hair as I clutch her like she’s the only thing holding me together.

For a moment, I forget about Harold. Forget about the danger waiting ahead. Forget that I may not live to see another sunrise.

For this moment, it’s just me and her.

My little girl. Safe in my arms.

The van’s engine rumbles to life, a low, grinding noise that jolts me back to reality. The tires crunch over gravel, and the van lurches forward.

She’s still asleep, her head heavy on my shoulder, but she’s not safe like this. Moving fast, I lower her back into the seat, guiding her limp body into place. Her tiny face scrunches in her sleep, but she doesn’t wake.

“Almost done,” I murmur. “Almost?—”

The final buckle snaps into place just as the van sways around a corner. I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to feel her breath against my skin. Only then do I sit back, my eyes never leaving her peaceful face.

The car ride is silent and suffocating. Every mile that passes feels like it’s dragging me deeper into hell. I can feel Harold’s eyes on me through the rearview mirror, his glare as sharp as ever, but I dare not look at him. If I do, I know I’ll give him exactly what he wants- an excuse to punish me.

I glance at Valeria, her face soft and peaceful in sleep. A curl has fallen across her forehead- a bright copper-red, just like his. My breath catches, and I reach out, gently smoothing it back.

Piers.

The memory of him hits hard- the way his hair would catch the sunlight, turning it to fire. I remember the way I used to run my fingers through it, tugging playfully just to see that crooked smile of his. My chest tightens.

I left to protect him- to make sure he wasn’t forced into this. He never asked for any of it- not the lies, not the secrecy, and certainly not the responsibility of a child he never agreed to. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel trapped, like he had no choice but to clean up my mess. That’s exactly why I left- to spare him from feeling obligated to stay with me.

And yet here we are. Me, a hostage. Valeria, leverage. And Piers, being forced to pay for us both.

The van shudders to a stop, jerking me forward in my seat. Before I can react, one of Harold’s men wrenches the door open, barking orders for us to move.

“Out. Now.”

A rough hand clamps around my arm, dragging me from the van before I can even find my footing. I stumble, my legs buckling beneath me as I hit the ground. The air is sharp and cold. My breath fogs in front of me as I blink up at the towering stone walls.

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