21. Roland

Over the past several months, my life had become unrecognizable. I'd broken every rule with my boss, quit my job, found out I was pregnant, demanded my job back, raised millions of dollars in a last-minute fundraiser, all because the mob had set their sights on the love of my life, then got married. And just when I didn't think anything could get more insane… twins.

Dr. Zappek had explained that the elevated hormone levels in my blood work had strongly hinted that there was more than one baby, and an ultrasound had confirmed twins.

At least there's a reason I'm already showing,I thought, rubbing my hand in a slow circle over my itty-bitty baby bump. I wondered if they were boys or girls, maybe one of each, and if they would have my warmer complexion or Emerson's cooler shade to their eyes and hair.

When I looked sideways at my husband, I found him already looking back with familiar heat. He reached out and set his hand on top of mine on my stomach, dropping a kiss on my shoulder, and I swore I could feel it even through the layers of clothing.

I finally turned my attention back to where Sawyer was setting up a laptop on Emerson's desk. "You could've used my computer," Emerson said with a hint of impatience.

"I told you," Sawyer grumbled, "your computer isn't secure. This one has hardware and software to keep any hackers out." He rolled his eyes, as if he were explaining something simple.

I put my hand up. "Actually… I don't really understand either. Why the cloak-and-dagger stuff?"

Sawyer held a finger up to forestall while a video chat came to life on the screen to show two men, one with dark hair and a kind smile, the other with copper-colored hair and a pair of glasses, which he pressed up the bridge of his nose with one finger. I wasn't certain, but I thought they looked a little familiar, and I wondered if maybe they'd been guests in the hotel before. "Behold," Sawyer said with a wave of his hand like a game show host presenting a prize. "My unnamed source."

"This is the guy you know?" Emerson asked, brows raised. "I thought you were making that up to cover up the fact that you don't have any friends." He smirked, and I loved to see that he was relaxed enough to make jokes. In fact, I didn't think I'd ever seen him so calm. He was drawing patterns on my thigh with his finger, tickling me and making me forever aware of his presence.

The man on the left with the darker hair laughed. "I might be real in theory, but according to the internet, I do not exist. We may have attracted the wrong kind of attention a few years back, so I hope we can trust you both to keep this meeting under wraps. For today, you can call me Sander, and this is Drake."

I leaned forward in my seat. "Um, hi. I'm Roland, and this is my husband, Emerson." I was just looking for excuses to say husband now. "I appreciate all the help you've been giving us, but… I guess I'm wondering why you wanted to meet with us now?"

The two men exchanged a look, then Sawyer fidgeted awkwardly, which told me he knew what was going on and hadn't warned us for whatever was about to happen. I instinctively laced my fingers with Emerson's, searching for comfort to the foreboding feelings hanging over our heads.

Finally, the dark-haired Sander said, "Not to brag, but my husband here is a bit of a computer genius." The redhead blushed and ducked his head down. "He's the one who's been keeping an eye on things at the hotel for you through your cameras."

"Th-the cameras, you say? You can do that?" I asked, my voice pitched higher. My brain immediately scanned back through every dirty thing Emerson and I had done in the hotel. Were there cameras in his office? In the supply closet? I discreetly checked the corners of the room, but I didn't see anything.

"Yeah, of course," Drake took over. "As soon as Sawyer reached out and mentioned that something fishy was going on, we couldn't just ignore it. Bruno Santana hurt too many innocent people, and we've been expecting someone to try to take his place. Seems like this mayor is just the next in a long line of corrupt officials."

"Drake has done everything he could to find dirt on the mayor, but beyond those hard copies of the pictures of her meeting with Santana that Lee Black handed over, it looks like she's had all trace of any mob connection erased from existence. Whoever she hired was damn good, too."

"Even better than me," the redhead grumbled, pouting. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Emerson said. "It's not your fault. We'll handle her… somehow."

Sander's lips thinned out. "Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if you would be willing to wear a wire the next time you meet with her."

"Absolutely not," I snapped before anyone else could answer, and four sets of eyes landed on me. I blushed under their attention, but I refused to back down. "I have no doubt that she'll be pissed, and while I don't know her very well, I do know that a cornered animal is more dangerous. Who knows what she's liable to do when she finds out all her plans have gone south."

"Which," Sander said, speaking slowly and calmly, "is why I want him to wear a wire. Angry means unstable, and that means she'll be more likely to slip up. If we can get her to confess to something, we can hopefully lay charges and get her out of her position as mayor."

All I heard were the words angry and unstable. What kind of slipup was he planning for? What kind of charges were they going to lay—murder? When she fucking killed my husband?

I could feel sweat dripping down my spine, and I clenched my eyes shut against the encroaching darkness. Pregnant omegas got hot flashes, right? That was probably what this was. It absolutely wasn't a panic attack. Shit, it felt like the walls were closing in. My throat got tight, my breath whistling through my pursed lips.

"Hey, Ro, you're okay," Emerson said softly, but his voice sounded distant. "Put your head down between your knees. Breathe deep. In, out. Slow it down. I've got you." I focused on the steady heat from his palm as he rubbed soothing circles over my back.

When I was finally able to get my bearing, I sat up carefully and turned in my seat, pulling at Emerson's jacket. "Em, I don't want you to put yourself at risk. She's too unpredictable." A ragged sob broke out, all my emotions spilling over my cheeks in the form of tears. "Please, I finally got you. She's going to take you away from me, I just know it."

Emerson looked torn, his gaze flicking over to the screen, then to Sawyer, before settling back on me with a searing intensity I felt right down to my core. "Nobody is ever going to keep us apart. Never again. Do you understand?" He waited for me to nod. "But... I think they're right. She's never going to leave us alone as long as she's in a position of power. She owns businesses, housing complexes—I hate to imagine what she could do to our friends or family if she was in the mood for retribution. She needs to be stopped."

I knew he had a point, but I couldn't help feeling selfish. I didn't care about what happened to anyone else. All I wanted was for the two of us to be safe and happy, to raise our children in peace. But then I thought about how Emerson had been willing to marry her in order to protect me. To protect all his staff. He was a protector at heart, and that was part of what I loved so much about him. I couldn't ask him to abandon his responsibilities.

My tears dripped off my face and onto my lap. "Okay," I whispered, even as I felt like my heart was being split in two.

"Roland, I promise your husband will be safe," Sander reassured me. "There will be FBI agents waiting just out of sight, listening in and ready to move in at the slightest hint of danger."

I just kept nodding, trying not to think of all the ways this could go wrong. It was times like these that my overactive imagination was a curse.

Sander began to outline the logistics of how this was going to work, but we were interrupted by a high-pitched voice calling from somewhere in the background. "Daaaaddy, Andrew's hogging the fishy crackers!"

It was so out of place in our current conversation that a startled laugh burst out. I hadn't imagined these two as parents, as well as agents working against the mob.

Drake winced and leaned off to the side out of view of the camera. "Hang on, Petra. Daddy's on a phone call." He reappeared and smiled. "Sorry, I think I'm needed elsewhere, so if you don't need anything else from me, I'll say my goodbyes," the redhead said.

"Yeah, hey, thanks, Decker," Sawyer said, and everyone's eyes widened at his slip.

"Uh, I think you meant Drake," he muttered, giving us a tight smile.

"Drake, right. Sorry. I don't know how I forgot your… name…" Sawyer chuckled awkwardly, then glanced at me and Emerson. "Any chance you guys can forget I said that?" Then he waved us away with a flick of his hand. "Never mind, they won't tell anyone. You're all good."

Drake—or Decker—frowned then stormed off, mumbling something about how he'd just gotten used to the name, and now he'd have to delete this one too.

Sander called after him, "It's fine, dear. They don't know anything important. You can keep your name."

"Sorry," Sawyer said, looking thoroughly miserable for causing them so much trouble.

The man shrugged. "It's okay, really. He's gotten us this far by being cautious, not to mention brilliant, but my skills lie more in the ability to read people. I'm not concerned about you guys."

We stayed on the call for a few more minutes, but Decker never came back. Sander's attention kept straying over to where his husband had disappeared, and I knew he wanted to go make things right.

"Go on," Emerson said, nodding to him. "We all have arrangements to make, but we can do it on our own. I'll set up a meeting with Eva and let you know the time. Is tomorrow too soon? The faster we can get this taken care of, the better."

He nodded. "We'll make it happen. Line it up."

Once the call was over and Sawyer had packed up the secure laptop once more, he paused on his way out the door. "Hey, Emerson?" he called. "Thanks for doing this. You too, Roland. It's been hard to watch my friend lose his identity, but he did it without question to protect his husband. I know it's important to them to see this through."

"Yeah, of course," Emerson said like it was no big deal.

Once Sawyer left and it was just the two of us in the office, Emerson reached across and pulled me onto his lap, cradling me as if I were the most precious gem. I curled up and rested my head on his shoulder, breathing him in, watching the steady pulse of his heart along the arch of his neck.

"Promise me," I whispered, breaking the silence. "Nothing will go wrong tomorrow."

He hesitated a beat too long before he said, "I promise."