15. Chapter 15

fifteen

Clara

Nine weeks later

" C alm down, Clara.” Stephan’s deep voice cuts through the haze of panic clouding my mind.

I grip the medical report tighter, the fucking pregnancy test results crinkling under my white-knuckled fingers. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Stephan,” I snap, pacing the hardwood floor of my apartment like a caged tiger.

Stephan sighs, running a hand through his long hair. He’s dressed impeccably as always, his dark suit tailored to perfection over his intimidating 6’2” frame. But even his sharp, calculated features can’t hide the concern in his eyes as they track my agitated movements.

“It’s not the end of the world, Clara,” he says, stepping closer, his bulk shrinking the room. But I’m too wound up to be soothed.

“Isn’t it?” I wave the papers in his face. “I’m fucking pregnant, Stephan. Me . Pregnant . Even though I’m on the goddamn pill.”

“It happens sometimes,” he says with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “No birth control is 100% effective.”

I’m such a fucking idiot. Why the hell did I do that?

No safety, no sense—just reckless.

I chuck the pregnancy test into the bin, and it hits with a thud. Turning around to face Stephan, I glare at him, my eyes narrowed to slits.

“I don’t need a fucking lesson in reproductive health, Stephan. What I need is to find out who the fuck is trying to kill me, and now I have this to deal with, too?”

Stephan’s jaw tightens, his eyes going flinty. “We’re working on it, Clara. We’ll find the bastard, I promise you.”

I stop pacing, turning to face him head-on. “It’s been two months, Stephan. Two fucking months since that asshole took a hit on me at Viper. And we’re no closer to knowing who he is or why he wants me dead.”

“These things take time—”

“Time?” I let out a harsh laugh. “I don’t have time, Stephan. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a fucking target on my back. And now…” I press a hand to my still-flat stomach, a wave of nausea that has nothing to do with morning sickness washing over me.

Stephan’s gaze follows the movement, something unreadable flickering across his stoic features. “We’ll handle it, Clara. All of it. You’re not alone in this.”

I close my eyes, suddenly exhausted. He’s right; I know he is. Stephan has always been there for me, even more than my own father. Especially since Jake—

I swallow hard, pushing away the thought of my brother. Even after nine years, the pain of his loss is still a raw, gaping wound. Another loved one ripped away from the Ravens, the Russian mob that haunts my nightmares. The ones who murdered Jake in cold blood and who now seem to want me dead, too.

I turn away from Stephan, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the glittering lights of New Orleans. Jake’s city . He built Eden Apartment, and this whole fucking block, from the ground up. Made something of himself, despite our father’s dismissal and disdain.

And then he was gone. Snuffed out like a candle, leaving me alone in a world full of shadows and secrets.

I feel Stephan come up behind me, his presence solid and reassuring at my back. In the reflection of the glass, he looks even bigger, his broad shoulders and imposing height dwarfing my own frame.

“We’ll get through this, Clara,” he says quietly, his deep voice rumbling through me. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Let me set up a doctor’s appointment,” he adds, his voice matter-of-fact. “We can get rid of it today.”

My head snaps up, my eyes locking with his. “‘ It ’?” I echo, my voice catching on the word. “Since when do we call my baby an ‘ it ’?”

Stephan’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. “Clara, be reasonable. You can’t possibly think keeping this pregnancy is a good idea. Not with everything that’s going on.”

A sudden, gut-wrenching throb pulses through me, a physical manifestation of the turmoil roiling in my gut. I press my hand harder against my stomach, as if I can shield the tiny life growing there from the harshness of his words.

Since when did we start treating this baby like an inconvenience? Like something to be discarded, tossed away like last week’s garbage?

My throat tightens, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. I blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. I’ve cried enough in this life.

Now… now I must decide.

My hand drifts down to my stomach again, resting lightly against the place where a new life grows.

No. Wait.

I take a step back, needing distance, needing air. My heel catches on the edge of the plush rug, and I stumble, catching myself on the back of the leather couch. The supple material is cool under my fevered skin, grounding me.

“I can’t just…” I start, my voice cracking. I clear my throat, trying again. “I can’t just ‘get rid of it,’ Stephan. This is my child we’re talking about. My flesh and blood.”

I don’t turn to look at him.

I can’t.

I’m too fucking ashamed of what I’ve done.

“Clara, think about this carefully,” Stephan urges, his deep voice cutting through the tangle of my thoughts. “You’re so young. And Maxwell, he…”

“This is none of my father’s concern!” I snap, spinning around to face him.

Dad’s going to disown me. He’s going to flip his shit if he finds out about this.

The thought sends a spike of fear through me.

My father’s never made a secret of his disdain for me, of his disappointment that I’m not the son he wanted. The heir he could mold in his own ruthless image.

And now… now I’ve gone and gotten myself knocked up by a stranger. A nameless, faceless man who made me feel more alive in one night than I have in my entire twenty-four years.

Fuck. I’m so screwed.

“I need time,” I say, hating the pleading note that creeps into my tone. “Time to think, to process. I can’t make this decision lightly.”

Stephan runs a hand over his face. For a moment, he looks tired. Old. The weight of his years and his responsibilities have etched into the lines around his eyes and mouth.

“Time is a luxury we don’t have, Clara,” he says, not unkindly. “Every day you delay, you put yourself and the b- the fetus at risk. Whoever is after you… they won’t care that you’re pregnant. If anything, it makes you more vulnerable.”

I flinch at the word ‘fetus,’ at the clinical detachment in his voice. But I can’t deny the truth in his words. My hand trembles where it rests on my stomach, fear and uncertainty warring within me.

“I know,” I whisper, my voice indistinct over the sudden roaring in my ears. “I know you’re right. But I can’t… I need…”

Stephan sighs.

He steps closer, his large hands coming to rest on my shoulders. The weight of them is comforting, grounding. I stare out the window, not really seeing the glittering lights of the city spread out below.

“Clara…” he starts, then trails off, as if he’s not sure what to say. What can he say? There are no easy answers here, no simple solutions.

I shrug out from under his hands, wrapping my arms around myself.

Suddenly, I feel very small.

Very alone.

I wish Jake were here; he’d know what to do. But he’s gone, and now it’s on me to avenge him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I murmur. “That I’m being selfish. That I’m not thinking about the consequences.”

Stephan makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “That’s not… Fuck, Clara. I’m just worried about you. This life… it’s not easy for anyone. But for a single mother? In our line of work?” He shakes his head, his expression grim. “It’s a death sentence. For you, and for the… kid .”

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath at the brutal honesty in them. He’s right. I know he’s right. But still…

“Do you know who the father is?” he asks.

The father. A traitorous voice whispers in the back of my mind. The man you can’t stop dreaming about, even though you don’t know his name or his face.

Unbidden, a memory of that night flashes through my mind. Anton , or whatever the fuck his real name is. The way he appeared out of nowhere, saving me from the assassin. The feel of his strong arms around me, his masculine scent enveloping me as he carried me to safety.

Fuck. Stop it, Clara. He’s out of your life now. And he’s not important.

I told myself not to try to find him after that night. I slipped away, knowing it was for the best.

There’s more to him; I know there is. That’s why he kept his mask on, just like I did.

But something about that night feels… off. Like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle. I frown, trying to chase the thought, but it slips away like smoke through my fingers.

“How did they know?” I whisper, more to myself than to Stephan. “How did they know I’d be at the Viper that night?”

Stephan’s reflection meets my gaze, his eyes troubled. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

I nod, squaring my shoulders. He will. Stephan always keeps his promises.

A ping sounds from Stephan’s phone, breaking the tense silence. He glances down at the screen, and for a moment, a flash of something like satisfaction crosses his face. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stoic mask.

“Something’s happening with the Ravens,” he says, his deep voice tight with controlled excitement. “Looks like there’s been an attack on one of their warehouses. Could be the start of an internal power struggle.”

I feel a savage surge of pleasure at the news. Those fuckers. If they’re tearing each other apart from the inside… good. Let them destroy each other. Saves me the trouble.

Stephan slips his phone back into his pocket, already moving toward the door. “I have to go check this out. You going to be okay here?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Stephan hesitates, then reaches out, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Okay,” he says, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “Take some time, Clara. Think it over. But don’t take too long. We need to move on this, one way or the other.”

He turns to go, and I bite down hard on my bottom lip. I taste blood, the coppery tang flooding my mouth.

Sorry, kiddo, I think, my hand stroking my stomach. But I have to do what’s best for both of us.

“Stephan, wait.” My voice sounds strange to my own ears, hollow and distant.

He pauses, looking back at me expectantly. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

“Go ahead and set up that appointment. I’ll… I’ll take care of it. Today.”

Relief flashes across Stephan’s face, chased by something that might be sympathy. “Good, Clara. I know it’s hard, but it’s the right decision. The only decision.”

I nod, not able to meet his eyes. He’s right. I know he’s right.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m alone. Just me and the tiny life growing inside me. The life I’m about to snuff out before it even has a chance to begin.

There’s no way I can have this baby.

I’m sorry, I think again, a single tear sliding down my cheek. I’m so sorry.