FOUR

GREGOR

"Are you stalking me, Mr. Vallis?" she demanded, predictably. For someone I had no memory of, she hated me with real conviction. I wondered how we'd even ended up together, if we had.

"You aren't that special, miss," I replied, feigning indifference. I hadn't been searching for the woman who might be my child's mother. It was pure chance. My drive across town brought me past a rain-soaked figure trudging along, misery etched into every step. Watching her shiver in the downpour, something inside me cracked. I offered her a ride, even though the glare she shot me said she'd rather freeze than accept my help.

"I don't need your validation to be special, Mr. Vallis, and the name is Justina." She said it with that same fire in her eyes, like she was playing nice while wanting nothing more than to destroy me. My fingers tightened on the wheel as I held her gaze in the mirror, cognac-colored and flickering with the streetlights.

"Okay, Justina. It's freezing out, so let go of whatever grudge you have and get in. I'll drive you home." I watched her hesitate, unmoved. It was odd, this urge to get her out of the rain. I told myself it wasn't pity. It was just her—this woman who claimed I had a son. I needed answers, and she was the only one who could give them.

"And I'm pretty sure Adonis wouldn't want you dying of pneumonia," I added, and finally got a reaction.

She sighed in defeat, climbed into the back seat, and pulled the door shut.

"Where do you live?" I asked, watching her rub her hands together for warmth.

"On St. Baruch." She pointed into the distance, and I started driving. Partway there, she turned toward the window, staring at nothing, clearly trying to avoid conversation. It was inevitable anyway.

"Are you cold?" I asked. The question seemed to freeze her, like it had sent her somewhere else entirely. It took her a long moment to come back.

"I'm fine, Mr. Vallis," she said, eyes fixed on the rain-streaked window. I could tell she was lying. Why did she despise me with such intensity? Was it the child? Had I shattered her life, left her to pick up the pieces alone? My phone buzzed—a message from my mother about Liliana's visit—piling on to the heaviness already crushing me. The pressure built until I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Why are you doing that?" I demanded, earning an unimpressed look from the back seat.

"Doing what, Mr. Vallis?" she asked, clearly refusing to give me a real answer.

"Stop calling me that. The name is Gregor." I fired back. "And if you're going to keep playing dumb, I'll spell it out. How did this happen? Where did we meet? How did you keep this from me so long?"

Justina swallowed hard, refusing to meet my gaze, her features twisted with pain. Within moments, silent tears traced down her cheeks. I hadn't meant to make her cry. My reckless past was always lurking, refusing to let me move on. I wasn't that man anymore—the one who chased after anyone who smiled at him—but my old mistakes still hunted me. This was the worst of them all. I eased the car onto Baruch Street, the weight of it pressing down on me.

"I'm sorry," I said, keeping my voice low even though I wanted to shout. "It came out wrong, but you have to understand, I don't know how this is happening. I have my life planned out, and this could change everything."

The redhead in the back seat looked unconvinced. If anything, my apology only seemed to rip open wounds that had never healed.

"What makes you think my son wants you in his life? We don't want anything from the generous Gregor Vallis, and if I weren't so desperate to save Adonis, you still wouldn't know he existed."

"But why? He's my son."

"Fuck that," she said. "I'm sure you're running a DNA test on him right now, but let me assure you, Mr. Vallis, that perfect little world you've built while ruining other people's lives is still standing. Don't worry about us. Once this is done, we're gone, and we'll pretend none of this ever happened."

She wasn't after money. All she cared about was her son's survival. Did that mean I truly was the father? Or was Justina simply a master at deception? Was I just another mark?

"I ruined your life? Last I checked, I only went after women who knew exactly what they were doing." I twisted to face her from the front seat. "And let's not forget, I paid good money for one night."

Before the words could even settle, her palm cracked across my face, a sharp ring in my ear, my vision blurring for a second. She'd slapped me.

***

JUSTINA

The bastard had the nerve to defend himself. He killed Charis, and now he thought tossing money at his one-night stands could buy him forgiveness. Fuck him.

"You slapped me?" he demanded, still stunned.

"You deserve worse, Mr. Gregor, but it's not my place to make you pay for what you did to her," I said, already reaching for the door handle, making my escape just in time.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Vallis," I muttered before storming off. The rain had faded to a drizzle, but it made no difference. All I could think about was the chaos I'd unleashed by tangling with the one man I wished would disappear forever. What now? If only I could ask the dead for advice. This whole act was wearing me thin. I was on the verge of losing Adonis to foster care, my shift was looming, and I'd just handed a dangerous secret to one of the city's most powerful men. My life was a disaster. I stopped at the battered building marked eighteen. It looked more like a shed than a home, but it was all I could afford. I fumbled in my soaked pocket for the key, vision blurred with tears. When I finally found it, I slipped inside my tiny refuge.

The first thing I saw was a photo of Charis and me from six years ago, on vacation at the beach. I picked up the last framed picture I had of my sister and wept.

"What do I do, Charis? I feel like I've made the wrong choice. I don't want to lose Adonis. He asked me so many questions today, Charis. All I wanted was to rip his throat out for calling you a slut. He knows Adonis exists now."

It was dark, quiet, but somewhere in it, an old, familiar whisper answered back. He never wanted Adonis anyway. If Gregor had it his way, Adonis wouldn't exist. So why are you worried?

It was ugly. But it was the truth. Gregor had wanted Adonis dead since the beginning.