Chapter 2

Sienna's POV

Outside the door, total silence fell. No knocks, no retreating footsteps.

I slid down against the wooden door until I was sitting flat on the floor, lifting a hand to press against the hollow of my shoulder.

The shrapnel trapped against the bone flared with a familiar, dull ache.

Chloe set our meeting for the ground-floor lounge.

She deliberately scheduled it for three in the afternoon, right when Lucian's weekly executive meeting let out and he would be crossing through the main lobby.

Ten years ago, Chloe had been terrified to even raise her voice in my presence.

Now, she had memorized Lucian's exact routine down to the minute, strutting in to negotiate terms with me.

I headed downstairs right on time, flanked by four bodyguards.

One of the guards shoved the overseas deployment consent form in front of Chloe.

"Sign it."

Chloe pulled back, clutching her belly with both hands.

"I'm not signing. This is between you and Lucian. What right do you have to kick me out?"

"The right that comes with owning this entire syndicate."

"Lucian is literally downstairs in a meeting! He'll be here any second! You wouldn't dare touch me!"

"Whether he shows up or not, you sign that paper today."

Chloe straightened her spine, puffing out her chest.

"I'm carrying his child. Touch me and see what happens."

I gave my men a slight nod.

Two bodyguards stepped forward, pinning Chloe's arms down and slamming her palm flat against the mahogany table.

A third grabbed her fingers, forcing them toward the signature line.

I reached to my hip and unclipped my tactical baton.

I didn't strike her body. I brought the weighted metal down directly across her open palm.

The first strike cracked against her flesh, tearing a sharp shriek from her throat.

The second strike landed, and she gritted her teeth, spitting curses at me, screaming that Lucian would tear me apart.

By the third strike, all the fight went out of her, replaced by violent, shuddering sobs.

After five clean strikes, she slumped limply in the chair, shivering with agony.

"Are you going to sign?"

"I'll sign... I'll sign it..."

Her palm had swelled into a sickening purplish-red welt, her tears smearing across her collar.

Suddenly, the lounge doors were shoved open with a crash.

Lucian stood in the doorway.

Catching sight of him, Chloe lunged for the fruit knife on the side table, whipping it around to press the blade directly against her own throat.

"Sienna is trying to drive me to my death!"

Lucian bolted across the room, wrenching the knife from her grip and wrapping her tightly against his chest.

He snapped his head up, glaring at me.

"You crossed the line putting your hands on a pregnant woman!"

"Put my hands on her? How?"

"You had men pin her down and took a baton to her hand! Sienna, is this what you call handling business?"

"I tried talking to her. She doesn't understand plain English."

"How could you hit a pregnant woman?!"

"Whose child she's actually carrying—don't you know better than anyone?"

Lucian froze on the spot, his entire frame stiffening.

"What do you mean by that?"

I didn't bother answering.

"She signed the transfer. Tell her to book her own flight."

I reached up, unzipped my jacket, and pulled the collar down over my right shoulder.

A jagged, thick scar ran across the flesh.

"You still recognize this scar, don't you?"

Lucian stared at the mangled tissue, his lips parting slightly.

"Five years ago. Took a grenade blast for you. The surgeons said the shrapnel is fused too close to the bone to ever take out. It's inside me for life."

I tossed the heavy tactical baton onto the glass table, letting it land with a dull, ringing thud.

"Over the last seven years, I've broken through nine ambushes to drag you out alive. The Vice President seat you sit in today was bought with my blood."

"I have twenty-seven scars on my body. This one is the deepest."

"A cluster of unborn cells doesn't outweigh the cold steel embedded in my shoulder."

Every bodyguard in the room kept their head bowed. Nobody dared breathe.

Lucian stood frozen with Chloe in his arms, unable to squeeze out a single word.

I zipped my jacket back up, turned on my heel, and walked out of the lounge.