Flint’s POVWhile Sierra and I pack in our bedroom, I debate whether to let her come to Russia. There's so much we don't understand. I stuff more clothes into my duffel bag and glance at her as she wanders into the en suite to get her makeup.Curiosity is a powerful thing, and I'm definitely curious about what Eric has been doing. He didn't sound scared in his voicemail messages, or even full of his usual asshole bravado. No, he was excited. Why? I stop packing and lean against the dresser while Sierra continues to put things into her suitcase."Spit it out." She doesn't break her rhythm of sorting and discarding. "You're over there brooding about something.""Don't come to Russia."She laughs. "I'm going to Russia. He called me, not you, and he said you could come along for the show." She throws skincare products into her bag with a huff. "I don't care anymore about what he's doing. You're right. I'll fire him. I don't know why I haven't done it yet."She knows why. I understand why.
Sierra’s POVIstare into my arms at the baby wrapped in a pale-blue blanket. He has dark hair, and his eyes are closed in sleep. His fingers have the tiniest nails, and I want to touch every one, count them, savor this moment. I'm so absorbed in the sight of a baby, it takes me a second to process Eric's words."What?" I glance up, a little dazed."Our son." Eric gives me an encouraging nod. "You weren't here for the birth, but I know you always wanted to name our boy Lucas after your brother."I laugh self-consciously and shift the baby to hand him to Eric. "This isn't my baby." When I try to pass the bundle, he steps out of reach. "He can't be my baby. It's impossible.""Not impossible," my father whispers. "You were searching for a surrogate when you two split.""Exactly," I agree. "Eric and I broke up, and we destroyed the embryos. I signed paperwork to have them destroyed."My father grimaces.Eric shifts his feet. "This isn't the reaction I was expecting.""I signed papers to ha
Flint’s POVThe room Charles assigned to us belongs in a museum. Historical eras aren't my thing, but it's clear this place hasn't had any facelift since the house was built, which was probably a hundred years ago. From the doorway, everything seems clean enough, and nothing smells like mothballs or mildew. I sigh. These thoughts are just a distraction from the fucking fertility circus downstairs. A poor effort to calm the hell down, and it's not working.As I close the bedroom door, I realize I should say something to Sierra, but I don't have any idea where to start. My blood boils, rage coursing through me at Eric and her father creating this child without her consent. When she was at her lowest, they tricked her into signing away her rights to her future children. Their motives are inconceivable to me-and I've done a lot of shitty things in the name of profit or revenge. But this? Their plan is so misguided. How could either of them think a baby was the right solution?My brain s
Sierra’s POVFlint was somewhere in the building with the DNA samples. After a couple of hours, Eric gets up the nerve to speak to me. One plus of Flint insulting him-his confidence took a hit."We should discuss everything before he gets back." Eric sips the coffee he bought from the café across the street.He's so tall standing in front of me that I'd have to crane my neck up to make eye contact or stand up. Neither appeals to me. I don't look at him, and I stay seated in my chair."Or maybe we should wait for the results to make sure what we're discussing is appropriate." I flip through the Voguemagazine I found on a table."You realize Lucas is yours. Why would I lie about that?""Honestly, I don't understand why you thought any of this was a good idea. The inner workings of your mind are a bit of a mystery to me." I toss the magazine onto the nearest table and stand. "I'm with Flint. We're together. What you think you'll accomplish won't happen."He raises his coffee and takes an
Sierra’s POVThe whole day has been a blur, from Eric's pompous expression when I admitted Lucas was mine, to Galina taking me through the steps to care for him, to the distance Flint has put between us.Or maybe I'm imagining his aloofness. Maybe I'm the person putting the space there. My world has tilted on its axis, and I can't shift reality back, make it level again.The thing I do know? I'm exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. When Lucas goes to bed for the night, or however many hours before he needs to feed again, I head to bed. Flint trails behind me, his hands in his pockets.Eric tries to catch my attention, but I've been ignoring him all day. I don't give a shit if Lucas is biologically his baby too. Ever being with him in any way makes my stomach heave like I'm on a boat tossed around by the sea.Flint closes the door to the bedroom and then leans back against it. "You look tired," he says before pushing off and ambling toward me. He tosses his wallet and other o
Flint’s POVBefore the door clicks closed, I’m striding over to the dresser where I stashed my gun. I check how many bullets I have. A full clip.Perfect. I only need one.“Flint,” Sierra says from the doorway.There are no words for the anger raging inside me right now. The warning in her voice is easy to ignore. He put his hands on her as though he was entitled to her body, as though she’s an object he can take and use as he likes. There is no fucking way I let that smug asshole get away with that.When I get to the door, she’s pressed against it.“Move.”“No.”“If I kill him, our problems go away.”“They don’t. And if you think about it, you’ll know why.”“I don’t fucking care. He’s not railroading you. He’s not forcing himself on you. None of that is happening—ever.”“I love you, Flint.” She molds herself to me.I close my eyes and try to block out the smell of her. When her hands slide around my waist and her ear is on my chest, I can’t hold onto my rage.“I love you.” Her voice i
Flint’s POVMy mind drifts to Hagen, but I don’t want to call that fucker again in Boston for another international favor. Still, if he can pull strings in Russia and at least make sure Sierra’s name is on the birth certificate, we might have a hope in hell of securing some sort of custody agreement. At the moment, we’re flying blind. Hagen might refer me back to Demid, and I can’t go to him with this problem. If the guy is like me, he’d murder Eric’s child in retaliation for Valeriya’s death. He wouldn’t think twice about the baby being biologically Sierra’s kid too. He didn’t seem that ruthless, but the last time I underestimated someone, I was shot up in a warehouse and almost bled out on the floor. That’s not happening again.“I’m tired,” Sierra says, against my chest.I lift her up in my arms and carry her to the bed, then slide her under the covers. She reaches for me, and I shake my head.“You’re not coming back to bed?” she says.“I’m going to grab a drink,” I say. “Get some
Sierra’s POVI wake up to find Flint gone. At first, I panic and circled the bedroom, accounting for his things. Then I decided that maybe he didn’t return after he got himself a drink. It’s only eight in the morning. But that’s late for me. Yesterday was exhausting.After I’ve showered and dressed, but before I go downstairs, I creep down the hall to Lucas. In the rocking chair in the corner is Galina with Lucas, and she’s attempting to burp him.“Want to try?” she asks when she spots me hovering in the entryway.“Oh, um, yes.” I take the armchair next to the rocker. She passes him to me, and I mimic the movements I saw her doing. An awkward silence settles between us as I try to get a burp. After a deep breath, I say, “Is this your first time being a surrogate?”Her face fills with surprise. “No, my third. Eric picked me because he wanted someone with a record of success.” She hesitates and then says, “He said this was your last shot. None of the implantations in other surrogates to
Sierra’s POVI wake up to find Flint gone. At first, I panic and circled the bedroom, accounting for his things. Then I decided that maybe he didn’t return after he got himself a drink. It’s only eight in the morning. But that’s late for me. Yesterday was exhausting.After I’ve showered and dressed, but before I go downstairs, I creep down the hall to Lucas. In the rocking chair in the corner is Galina with Lucas, and she’s attempting to burp him.“Want to try?” she asks when she spots me hovering in the entryway.“Oh, um, yes.” I take the armchair next to the rocker. She passes him to me, and I mimic the movements I saw her doing. An awkward silence settles between us as I try to get a burp. After a deep breath, I say, “Is this your first time being a surrogate?”Her face fills with surprise. “No, my third. Eric picked me because he wanted someone with a record of success.” She hesitates and then says, “He said this was your last shot. None of the implantations in other surrogates to
Flint’s POVMy mind drifts to Hagen, but I don’t want to call that fucker again in Boston for another international favor. Still, if he can pull strings in Russia and at least make sure Sierra’s name is on the birth certificate, we might have a hope in hell of securing some sort of custody agreement. At the moment, we’re flying blind. Hagen might refer me back to Demid, and I can’t go to him with this problem. If the guy is like me, he’d murder Eric’s child in retaliation for Valeriya’s death. He wouldn’t think twice about the baby being biologically Sierra’s kid too. He didn’t seem that ruthless, but the last time I underestimated someone, I was shot up in a warehouse and almost bled out on the floor. That’s not happening again.“I’m tired,” Sierra says, against my chest.I lift her up in my arms and carry her to the bed, then slide her under the covers. She reaches for me, and I shake my head.“You’re not coming back to bed?” she says.“I’m going to grab a drink,” I say. “Get some
Flint’s POVBefore the door clicks closed, I’m striding over to the dresser where I stashed my gun. I check how many bullets I have. A full clip.Perfect. I only need one.“Flint,” Sierra says from the doorway.There are no words for the anger raging inside me right now. The warning in her voice is easy to ignore. He put his hands on her as though he was entitled to her body, as though she’s an object he can take and use as he likes. There is no fucking way I let that smug asshole get away with that.When I get to the door, she’s pressed against it.“Move.”“No.”“If I kill him, our problems go away.”“They don’t. And if you think about it, you’ll know why.”“I don’t fucking care. He’s not railroading you. He’s not forcing himself on you. None of that is happening—ever.”“I love you, Flint.” She molds herself to me.I close my eyes and try to block out the smell of her. When her hands slide around my waist and her ear is on my chest, I can’t hold onto my rage.“I love you.” Her voice i
Sierra’s POVThe whole day has been a blur, from Eric's pompous expression when I admitted Lucas was mine, to Galina taking me through the steps to care for him, to the distance Flint has put between us.Or maybe I'm imagining his aloofness. Maybe I'm the person putting the space there. My world has tilted on its axis, and I can't shift reality back, make it level again.The thing I do know? I'm exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. When Lucas goes to bed for the night, or however many hours before he needs to feed again, I head to bed. Flint trails behind me, his hands in his pockets.Eric tries to catch my attention, but I've been ignoring him all day. I don't give a shit if Lucas is biologically his baby too. Ever being with him in any way makes my stomach heave like I'm on a boat tossed around by the sea.Flint closes the door to the bedroom and then leans back against it. "You look tired," he says before pushing off and ambling toward me. He tosses his wallet and other o
Sierra’s POVFlint was somewhere in the building with the DNA samples. After a couple of hours, Eric gets up the nerve to speak to me. One plus of Flint insulting him-his confidence took a hit."We should discuss everything before he gets back." Eric sips the coffee he bought from the café across the street.He's so tall standing in front of me that I'd have to crane my neck up to make eye contact or stand up. Neither appeals to me. I don't look at him, and I stay seated in my chair."Or maybe we should wait for the results to make sure what we're discussing is appropriate." I flip through the Voguemagazine I found on a table."You realize Lucas is yours. Why would I lie about that?""Honestly, I don't understand why you thought any of this was a good idea. The inner workings of your mind are a bit of a mystery to me." I toss the magazine onto the nearest table and stand. "I'm with Flint. We're together. What you think you'll accomplish won't happen."He raises his coffee and takes an
Flint’s POVThe room Charles assigned to us belongs in a museum. Historical eras aren't my thing, but it's clear this place hasn't had any facelift since the house was built, which was probably a hundred years ago. From the doorway, everything seems clean enough, and nothing smells like mothballs or mildew. I sigh. These thoughts are just a distraction from the fucking fertility circus downstairs. A poor effort to calm the hell down, and it's not working.As I close the bedroom door, I realize I should say something to Sierra, but I don't have any idea where to start. My blood boils, rage coursing through me at Eric and her father creating this child without her consent. When she was at her lowest, they tricked her into signing away her rights to her future children. Their motives are inconceivable to me-and I've done a lot of shitty things in the name of profit or revenge. But this? Their plan is so misguided. How could either of them think a baby was the right solution?My brain s
Sierra’s POVIstare into my arms at the baby wrapped in a pale-blue blanket. He has dark hair, and his eyes are closed in sleep. His fingers have the tiniest nails, and I want to touch every one, count them, savor this moment. I'm so absorbed in the sight of a baby, it takes me a second to process Eric's words."What?" I glance up, a little dazed."Our son." Eric gives me an encouraging nod. "You weren't here for the birth, but I know you always wanted to name our boy Lucas after your brother."I laugh self-consciously and shift the baby to hand him to Eric. "This isn't my baby." When I try to pass the bundle, he steps out of reach. "He can't be my baby. It's impossible.""Not impossible," my father whispers. "You were searching for a surrogate when you two split.""Exactly," I agree. "Eric and I broke up, and we destroyed the embryos. I signed paperwork to have them destroyed."My father grimaces.Eric shifts his feet. "This isn't the reaction I was expecting.""I signed papers to ha
Flint’s POVWhile Sierra and I pack in our bedroom, I debate whether to let her come to Russia. There's so much we don't understand. I stuff more clothes into my duffel bag and glance at her as she wanders into the en suite to get her makeup.Curiosity is a powerful thing, and I'm definitely curious about what Eric has been doing. He didn't sound scared in his voicemail messages, or even full of his usual asshole bravado. No, he was excited. Why? I stop packing and lean against the dresser while Sierra continues to put things into her suitcase."Spit it out." She doesn't break her rhythm of sorting and discarding. "You're over there brooding about something.""Don't come to Russia."She laughs. "I'm going to Russia. He called me, not you, and he said you could come along for the show." She throws skincare products into her bag with a huff. "I don't care anymore about what he's doing. You're right. I'll fire him. I don't know why I haven't done it yet."She knows why. I understand why.
Sierra’s POVWhen I slip into bed, Flint tugs me close, but for the first time since we've been together, he doesn't run his hands along me in ways to make me think of sex. Instead, he wedges me in so tight my face is practically squished against his bare chest, and he smooths my hair before kissing the top of my head. Every bandage is gone, and sometimes I lie in bed tracing his scars, asking for their stories as my heart races at the danger and aches at the close calls. A world without him isn't a world at all."You okay?" he says. "You've been too fucking quiet since your mom left.""I don't know," I whisper. Turning toward him, I'm comforted by the steady beat of his heart in my ear. "Anytime I hear someone gave up the chance to be a mom, it makes my heart hurt. I just-I would have done anything to have a baby, to be a mom."He's silent as his hand strokes my back. "Sounds as though your sister had it rough after your mother left.""Yeah. I can't process it. Being beaten by your