“Not a stranger,” he says. “That would be too risky. If the wrong person found out you were her mother, there’s no telling what they might try to do to our family.”
“I don’t think most people looking to adopt a baby are interested in blackmail.”
“Ah, my sweet, stubborn, stupid child. You know everyone can be bought, but everyone is capable of betrayal. Learn that now before it’s too late,” he advises. “You are right about one thing, however. You won’t give her to a stranger.”
I’m too flummoxed to respond. I’m not sure my father has ever admitted I was right before. Still, I don’t see how this is a real option, especially if we both agree that the baby can’t be given up.
“The solution is simple.” Angus MacLaine always has a trick hidden up his sleeve. He saves it for when he needs it most. I’ve watched him play it during billionaire-dollar mergers. He produced it during the investigation into the car accident. “She will stay in the family.”
I press my hand harder against my stomach as I feel an undeniable kick, as though she understands what he’s saying before I do.
“I will pay for the medical bills,” he continues. “You will remain in London and give birth. After which, you will continue to have access to your trust fund and remain in the will. You can remain in London. Return to school. You will both be taken care of.”
“And?” There’s a catch. There always is with a MacLaine. “You’ll just play granddad?”
“Yes,” he says, catching me off guard, until he shows his final card. “Because you’ll give the baby to Malcolm and Ginny to raise. No one will ever know the truth.”
“I wish I hadn’t waited until he was dead to return to Valmont,” Sterling says darkly. “I wish I’d come back to kill him myself.”
“He’d already won,” I say wearily.
“So, they just took her from you?” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “Is that even legal? Did you sign documents?”
“Not exactly,” I admit before plunging into the rest of the story. When I finish, he’s pale. He moves onto the couch next to me and draws me into his arms, tucking my body against his, before kissing my forehead. I let myself cry, openly and freely, for the first time in years. It’s ugly and painful, my sobs wrack my body until my lungs hurt. I’ve told myself not to dwell on the past, because I didn’t think I could survive it. Now, standing on the other side of it, I’m left to wonder if I just gave up.
“Do you think...Did I give up too easily?”
His arms tighten around me, protective and strong, and I dread the first moment I have to spend without their comforting presence, knowing it’s an inevitable fact of life.
“Lucky, you didn’t give up. You never gave up.” He tilts my tear-stained face up to meet his own red eyes. I didn’t realize until this moment that he’d been crying, too. “I’m proud of you, but you don’t have to fight alone anymore. I’m here now, and from this moment forward, we fight together.”
16
Sterling
“And you were in London the whole time?” I ask, dreading her answer. This came up once before when Luca had mentioned time we spent in London. I’d thought she was jealous, then. The more she tells me, the more angry I become.
She nods. “You mentioned being in London while you were serving.”
Of course, she remembers that tiny detail Luca spilled at the gala. I’m not sure why he even brought it up. It was never a night I wanted to remember-—until now.
“I was there for a stopover on my way to final training in Afghanistan,” I confess. “A lot of it’s a blur. The night ended with whiskey and tattoos.” I gesture to the brotherhood tattoo she asked about earlier.
“When was that?” Adair asks, and I can see her eyes flit back and forth like she’s reviewing memories of her time there trying to figure out if one of them has me somewhere in the background. But she won’t find it.
I’m the one who had a chance to fix things, not her. “December.”
“Ellie was born in November,” she murmurs. I feel like I’ve pulled a block out of her carefully constructed reality as realization after realization comes crashing down on her. She shakes her, forcing herself to smile through the obvious pain. “It’s not like you knew we were there.”